The Demented Z (Book 1):The Demented by Derek J Thomas Page B

Several still moving about down below, but nothing new.” With
that Hank laid down on the dusty floor and closed his eyes, crossing his arms
across his chest. He immediately began snoring.
    Tom
stood and walked over to the windows, wishing he had a warm cup of coffee to
keep him company in the darkness.
    Watching
absent-mindedly out the window, he thought back on everything that had
transpired. The most recent events stuck in his mind. The demented almost
seemed to have set a trap for them or was it just coincidence. He had thought
earlier that some of them retained more intelligence than others or were at
least better able to restrain their rage. The giant one that dragged the metal
post, was he drawing the others in or just too lazy to pick it up? He decided
to himself that the car was surly not part of the trap, much too complicated.
The fence post might be a different story.
    Movement
below caught his eye and pulled his mind from his depressing thoughts. Several
of the demented down below were sprinting off down the street, followed by
several more, slow moving undead.
    Looking
down the street, Tom tried to get a fix on what had attracted their interest.
Near the end of the street sat a small one story house, its picket fence
falling over from lack of maintenance. The demented were racing through the
small yard, leaping onto the broken down front porch. He could see more of
them coming from between the houses to each side.
    Shattering
the night silence were several rapid shots, their flash lighting the interior
of the home.
    Tom
turned to wake the others, but saw they had heard the shots and were already
coming to the window.
    “What’s
all the rukus?” Hank inquired.
    Pointing
toward the little house, Tom said, “Several demented suddenly rushed the house down
there, then the shots.”
    More
shots lit up the night, the gunfire drawing demented and undead from all
directions. The small yard was quickly filling up, as well as the surrounding
lawn.
    Pop…Pop…Pop .
More bright flashes, farther back inside the house.
    The
spine tingling sound of shattering glass.
    Suddenly
the hordes were flowing in through the windows to each side of the front door.
    “Anything
we can do?” Rachael asked.
    Nobody
answered. They all continued to stare out the window, mesmerized by the sheer
number entering the house. How could so many fit?
    There
was movement on the roof. The attic had roof access through a hinged flat
square at the peak that was being flipped open.
    “There…right
there! Someone’s on the roof.” Rachael shouted.
    The
man on the roof reached back into the void and pulled out what looked like a
shotgun. Another man climbed out of the hole onto the roof, closing the trap
door behind him. They both turned and sat on top of it.
    “Let’s
get out of here…while those things are busy over there. Right now we can go
for gas.” Rachael said.
    “I
can’t leave them...not like that.” Tom said.
    “There
are way too many.”
    “We
have to help them.” Tom said, nearly shouting now.
    Hank
stepped in, hands raised. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s figure this out kids.”
    Tom
breathed a heavy sigh, realizing he was getting all worked up. Looking at both
of them he said, “I have to help them…or at least try. They will die of
dehydration and exposure up there.”
    “I’m
with you, but we need a plan…and not one of my crazy ass plans.” Hank replied.
    Tom
nodded his head. “A diversion. I think that is the only way.”
    ******
    “Danny!
They’re coming! Get back in here!”
    Ben
watched as his brother came rushing up the porch steps, nearly tripping over
the broken step he had always meant to fix. Pulling the revolver out from the
back of his pants, he slammed the door behind his brother and locked the
deadbolt.
    “I’m
sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drop it.”
    There
was loud stomping on the porch as the demented raced up. The door shuddered as
they pounded into it. The hinges rattled and