very little slow shambling. I can see they are pretty fresh; must have just turned today. Again, great.
I scramble to my right, tossing the gravel at the Zs, which does exactly zip to slow them down, but it makes me feel like I’m at least participating in my own death. Do your part before you die a horrible, screaming death, should be the official slogan of the apocalypse. There could be t-shirts and shit.
One of the Zs is faster than the others are and gets to me before I can dodge out of the way. Its hands grasp for me, but I knock them away, spinning around the thing and elbowing it in the back, sending it into the fence. Now, here’s the problem with chain link fencing: it’s got bounce.
So I send the Z into the fence and it just ricochets right off and back at me. We collide and fall to the ground in a pile of living and undead limbs. The monster’s jaws snap at my face, but I shove it away, my fingers digging into its cheeks for purchase. It snarls at me as I roll over, pinning it down. I’m about to rip the fucking thing’s face right off when Z fingers grab me from behind.
Oh, right, there’re two more of the mother fuckers.
I jump back, using my momentum to send the Zs tumbling. I’m lucky and keep my balance, but not for long as a Z hand grips my ankle and pulls. I’m down on my face, gravel digging into my forehead, when I hear a thump. There, just a few feet away, is The Bitch.
“Thought you might like that,” Mondello calls out. “Ms. Foster says her man, Jameson, took it off you.”
Jameson? Does he mean Cowboy? Who cares, I have The Bitch back!
Now I just have to get to it before I die.
I flail, thrash, and manage to get the Z off me. Rolling over and over, I get close to The Bitch, but not close enough. My hand is inches from it when two Zs are on me. I just start punching and kicking. I connect with a Z and its head rocks back as I get my knees up under it and shove as hard as possible with my legs. The thing flies off me and I slam my elbow into the temple of the second Z. I hear a snap and the Z’s head twists to the side, its neck broken. It falls on me and I’m pinned under undead weight. Of course, since I haven’t destroyed the brain, the thing’s jaws are still working, but at least the body isn’t responding.
Barely managing to get the fucking thing off me, I roll once more and I have The Bitch! Then I don’t , as I’m tackled by a Z, its teeth gnashing at my face as zombie spittle drips onto my cheek. Fucking gross, man! I slam my good hand against its head over and over and over, but the fucker won’t die. Its teeth snag my shirt and I nearly freak out, as I feel it start to bite through the cotton and into my arm.
Adrenaline seriously kicks in and I let out a guttural scream , as I wrap the Z in my arms and roll. Now I’m on top, mother fucker! Despite the intense agony, I grab the Zs head with both hands and twist, breaking its neck and severing the spinal column. It looks up at me with its dead, grey eyes and hisses. Fuck that shit. I get to my feet and stomp the fucker until its skull is in pieces and zombie brains coat the gravel.
I walk over to the other Z and finish it off.
Now, where’s the third one? Oh, here it comes.
I duck my shoulder and let the Z run right into me , then I stand up straight, sending the thing flipping over my back. It hits the gravel hard and roars with rage. Oh, did I make the Z angry? Poor widdle Z. Without hesitation, I turn its face into pulp, wiping my boot on the gravel as Z brain drips from the sole.
I walk over and pick up The Bitch, loving the familiar feel, even if it is in my left hand.
“Didn’t even need it!” I shout. “How do you like that, asshole?”
The crowd is cheering and hollering at me; I guess I put on a nice show. It was only three Zs, after all. Sure, it got a little hairy, but I’ve faced worse. They’d have loved me with two working hands. What the fuck am I thinking? This shit is crazy! I really
I scramble to my right, tossing the gravel at the Zs, which does exactly zip to slow them down, but it makes me feel like I’m at least participating in my own death. Do your part before you die a horrible, screaming death, should be the official slogan of the apocalypse. There could be t-shirts and shit.
One of the Zs is faster than the others are and gets to me before I can dodge out of the way. Its hands grasp for me, but I knock them away, spinning around the thing and elbowing it in the back, sending it into the fence. Now, here’s the problem with chain link fencing: it’s got bounce.
So I send the Z into the fence and it just ricochets right off and back at me. We collide and fall to the ground in a pile of living and undead limbs. The monster’s jaws snap at my face, but I shove it away, my fingers digging into its cheeks for purchase. It snarls at me as I roll over, pinning it down. I’m about to rip the fucking thing’s face right off when Z fingers grab me from behind.
Oh, right, there’re two more of the mother fuckers.
I jump back, using my momentum to send the Zs tumbling. I’m lucky and keep my balance, but not for long as a Z hand grips my ankle and pulls. I’m down on my face, gravel digging into my forehead, when I hear a thump. There, just a few feet away, is The Bitch.
“Thought you might like that,” Mondello calls out. “Ms. Foster says her man, Jameson, took it off you.”
Jameson? Does he mean Cowboy? Who cares, I have The Bitch back!
Now I just have to get to it before I die.
I flail, thrash, and manage to get the Z off me. Rolling over and over, I get close to The Bitch, but not close enough. My hand is inches from it when two Zs are on me. I just start punching and kicking. I connect with a Z and its head rocks back as I get my knees up under it and shove as hard as possible with my legs. The thing flies off me and I slam my elbow into the temple of the second Z. I hear a snap and the Z’s head twists to the side, its neck broken. It falls on me and I’m pinned under undead weight. Of course, since I haven’t destroyed the brain, the thing’s jaws are still working, but at least the body isn’t responding.
Barely managing to get the fucking thing off me, I roll once more and I have The Bitch! Then I don’t , as I’m tackled by a Z, its teeth gnashing at my face as zombie spittle drips onto my cheek. Fucking gross, man! I slam my good hand against its head over and over and over, but the fucker won’t die. Its teeth snag my shirt and I nearly freak out, as I feel it start to bite through the cotton and into my arm.
Adrenaline seriously kicks in and I let out a guttural scream , as I wrap the Z in my arms and roll. Now I’m on top, mother fucker! Despite the intense agony, I grab the Zs head with both hands and twist, breaking its neck and severing the spinal column. It looks up at me with its dead, grey eyes and hisses. Fuck that shit. I get to my feet and stomp the fucker until its skull is in pieces and zombie brains coat the gravel.
I walk over to the other Z and finish it off.
Now, where’s the third one? Oh, here it comes.
I duck my shoulder and let the Z run right into me , then I stand up straight, sending the thing flipping over my back. It hits the gravel hard and roars with rage. Oh, did I make the Z angry? Poor widdle Z. Without hesitation, I turn its face into pulp, wiping my boot on the gravel as Z brain drips from the sole.
I walk over and pick up The Bitch, loving the familiar feel, even if it is in my left hand.
“Didn’t even need it!” I shout. “How do you like that, asshole?”
The crowd is cheering and hollering at me; I guess I put on a nice show. It was only three Zs, after all. Sure, it got a little hairy, but I’ve faced worse. They’d have loved me with two working hands. What the fuck am I thinking? This shit is crazy! I really
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