and dangerous, but when the bookcase had fallen over, it revealed a doorway heading to the basement. The smell wafting upwards into the kitchen from the black opening into the cellar was easily one of the worst things I have ever breathed in. Even right now I’m coughing, and I think it’s just psychosomatic.
Gilbert’s spray of rounds had decapitated at least three small kids that burst through the opening to the basement. He was literally rooted to the floor at the doorway, and from below, I could see a mass of glistening white eyes floating up the stairs towards us.
All the children had been trapped in the basement the whole time. Someone had shut them down there, and pushed the bookcase in front of the opening to hide the door. I recall now seeing that the doorknob had been removed so the bookcase could slide flush against the wall.
I had a split second to make a decision. If I was wrong, or hesitated, Gilbert would be killed. Panic couldn’t happen or my friend would die. Or I might die.
Phew.
I pulled the shotgun’s trigger and sent a spray of pellets down the stairs into the dark. Some of the eyes went black and I heard little bodies tumble away into the depths of the daycare cellar. Without putting any thought into it, I racked and fired the Mossberg over and over until it clicked dry. I stepped on the bookcase to get into the doorway, which caused Gilbert to scream out in pain. He claims that was the moment his toes broke. We can’t be sure. He’s got no right to bitch at me, that’s for sure. At least he’s still alive.
I dove into the doorway, and started to reload the shotgun. Behind me I heard Patty and Abby arrive in the kitchen and start to help Gilbert. We yelled and hollered as I literally used my body to block the basement. Right about then the girls started yelling that the bookcase was too heavy for them to lift. I looked back to them to assess, and when I turned to check the basement below again, more of the white eyes had appeared. In the dark all I could see was the reflection off the milky white haze in their eyes. Creepiest thing I’ve ever seen. Easily.
I let loose a couple more shotgun blasts to buy myself some time, and I sprinted up the couple steps back into the kitchen. I jumped over the bookcase and tossed the shotgun to Abby, who caught it like a champ.
“Anything comes up the steps, blast it!” I hollered to her. She swallowed hard and jumped over the bookcase to block the doorway with her tiny body. I motioned for Patty to get the fuck out of the way, and I Hercules tossed the bookcase. It smashed in the glass window on the stove when it landed kitty cornered. Gilbert lost his balance and stumbled backwards, smashing his ass end into a kitchen counter. He yelped in pain, and called me a few very choice names, but he was free.
I think I told him to shove his attitude up his ancient asshole, and Patty and I grabbed him to help him get outside. I told Abby to follow us out. Down the hall and through the rooms we went, half helping, half carrying old man Donohue with the busted toes. Patty went ahead and opened the passenger side of the Chevy, and I got him in. I turned to make sure Patty and Abby were okay, and all I saw was Patty.
Abby never followed us out.
Patty’s face went white as a sheet when we heard my shotgun start going off inside the daycare. I told her to stay put. Sitting in the bed of the Chevy was my M15, so I snagged it, flicked it to three round burst, and headed back inside towards the sound of my Mossberg.
I don’t think I’ve had a heart attack before. I mean, I can say comfortably that up until yesterday, my heart has always beat in a normal fashion. When under stress or when I’m scared yeah sure, it hammers away. But that’s normal. When I came down the hall and saw Abby on her back, pinned to the fallen bookcase by a twenty something girl zombie with at least three or four more toddler sized undead biting and scratching at her legs, my heart
Gilbert’s spray of rounds had decapitated at least three small kids that burst through the opening to the basement. He was literally rooted to the floor at the doorway, and from below, I could see a mass of glistening white eyes floating up the stairs towards us.
All the children had been trapped in the basement the whole time. Someone had shut them down there, and pushed the bookcase in front of the opening to hide the door. I recall now seeing that the doorknob had been removed so the bookcase could slide flush against the wall.
I had a split second to make a decision. If I was wrong, or hesitated, Gilbert would be killed. Panic couldn’t happen or my friend would die. Or I might die.
Phew.
I pulled the shotgun’s trigger and sent a spray of pellets down the stairs into the dark. Some of the eyes went black and I heard little bodies tumble away into the depths of the daycare cellar. Without putting any thought into it, I racked and fired the Mossberg over and over until it clicked dry. I stepped on the bookcase to get into the doorway, which caused Gilbert to scream out in pain. He claims that was the moment his toes broke. We can’t be sure. He’s got no right to bitch at me, that’s for sure. At least he’s still alive.
I dove into the doorway, and started to reload the shotgun. Behind me I heard Patty and Abby arrive in the kitchen and start to help Gilbert. We yelled and hollered as I literally used my body to block the basement. Right about then the girls started yelling that the bookcase was too heavy for them to lift. I looked back to them to assess, and when I turned to check the basement below again, more of the white eyes had appeared. In the dark all I could see was the reflection off the milky white haze in their eyes. Creepiest thing I’ve ever seen. Easily.
I let loose a couple more shotgun blasts to buy myself some time, and I sprinted up the couple steps back into the kitchen. I jumped over the bookcase and tossed the shotgun to Abby, who caught it like a champ.
“Anything comes up the steps, blast it!” I hollered to her. She swallowed hard and jumped over the bookcase to block the doorway with her tiny body. I motioned for Patty to get the fuck out of the way, and I Hercules tossed the bookcase. It smashed in the glass window on the stove when it landed kitty cornered. Gilbert lost his balance and stumbled backwards, smashing his ass end into a kitchen counter. He yelped in pain, and called me a few very choice names, but he was free.
I think I told him to shove his attitude up his ancient asshole, and Patty and I grabbed him to help him get outside. I told Abby to follow us out. Down the hall and through the rooms we went, half helping, half carrying old man Donohue with the busted toes. Patty went ahead and opened the passenger side of the Chevy, and I got him in. I turned to make sure Patty and Abby were okay, and all I saw was Patty.
Abby never followed us out.
Patty’s face went white as a sheet when we heard my shotgun start going off inside the daycare. I told her to stay put. Sitting in the bed of the Chevy was my M15, so I snagged it, flicked it to three round burst, and headed back inside towards the sound of my Mossberg.
I don’t think I’ve had a heart attack before. I mean, I can say comfortably that up until yesterday, my heart has always beat in a normal fashion. When under stress or when I’m scared yeah sure, it hammers away. But that’s normal. When I came down the hall and saw Abby on her back, pinned to the fallen bookcase by a twenty something girl zombie with at least three or four more toddler sized undead biting and scratching at her legs, my heart
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