The Undead Situation by Eloise J. Knapp Page A

reach for something, almost lose it. I thought she was capable, but whatever she was doing proved me wrong.
    By the time I got to the exit, Blaze was there too. She was halfway out the door when I pushed her to the left against the outside wall. I pivoted on my foot just outside of the doorway, my body slamming into hers. As I spun 180 degrees, the kitchen came back into view. Crazies were in clear sight, getting ready to fire, unaware of the hazard in front of them. It only took a second to aim and shoot the tank just a few feet in front of them.
    Everything happened at once. The door beside us flew off its hinges from the force of the explosion, landing in overgrown grass. Heat washed over me, making my eyes hurt and my skin tight. The impact shook the thick stone wall we used as cover, and pebbles and dust burst from its cracks.
    The explosion happened quickly, but the aftermath was what hurt the most. My ears were ringing and my head felt fuzzy. Smoke billowed from the kitchen. I coughed as I inhaled. Pieces of fiery debris caught the browned grass on fire; some areas were already beyond control.
    From inside came agonizing screams. The explosion would’ve killed all the crazies I saw, but if my prediction was right there would’ve been even more headed for the hallway. The flames and impact would’ve kept traveling in every direction, hitting them too, but some less severely.
    I’d been holding onto Blaze. I released her, taking a shaky step back.
    The ragged brick wall hit my face as someone pushed me from behind. I felt my skin tearing as the stone dug in.
    Pressure on my shoulder made me turn my head. A tremendously overcooked face snarled, and its blackened teeth tried to latch onto me. His skin crackled, while the smell of oily, burnt fat filled my nostrils. Lips were long gone, and his teeth gnashed furiously. I tried using the wall as leverage to push us both back, but he had been a big fucker before he died. He weighed too much and moved too violently.
    This one was a runner. It dug its hands into my shoulders, trying to pull me closer. Its strength was no more than it was when it was living, but the determination in its oozing, grip made up for it. The smoldering zombie pushed me back against the wall just as I was gaining leverage, my head spinning as it hit.
    She was there then. Blaze was fast, pushing the thing off me. It stumbled then lurched forward towards me. A bullet went through the middle of its forehead. Boiled brains spewed from the exit hole and the body fell.
    My strength came back as I stepped away from the wall. I felt my face, and my hand came away with blood after I pressed my fingers into the throbbing wound. A stinging, sharp sensation reminded me my shoulder was sliced up. Everything was going downhill. We had to get out of there.
    If there were more runners, they weren’t coming outside. Frank and Gabe stood near the red Mustang we’d seen earlier, their eyes fixated on the doorway.
    I paid attention to my surroundings. Moans and groans filled the air, but they weren’t coming from inside. I wasn’t sure if the night brought out the dead, or if it was the ruckus inside the prison that drew them, but they were here in all their slimy, undead glory. The stench of rot was overwhelming, and I almost choked when I inhaled. Sunny weather made corpses extra juicy and pungent.
    “This is mine. Get in,” Blaze said as she walked to the Mustang.
    All of us were frazzled, but we were regrouping faster than I thought.
    Frank said, “We have a Hummer up front.”
    “Just get in. I’ll take you.”
    We were still in a hot zone, so I didn’t argue. I wanted to blame the impact of the explosion for rattling my mind, but since everyone else was fine I couldn’t. Frank slid into the backseat with Gabe and I got into the front.
    The Mustang smelled like old leather and tobacco. There was a pack of cigarettes on the floor of the front seat. Empty cigarette boxes littered the dashboard.
    “This