Survivor_World of Monsters by Michael Brightburn

Author:Michael Brightburn [Brightburn, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-03T22:00:00+00:00

41

Mirabelle’s rifle cracked. The zombie closest—only six feet away—collapsed to the ground.

“Jonathan, Eliza, watch the ones behind us,” he told them, glancing over his shoulder and seeing the ones from the gas station getting close.

They moved to do so, and Cal aimed at the next closest zombie. But again, he couldn’t shoot, as it was directly in front of the dumpster. He moved to the side until any stray buckshot would be well clear of the dumpster, then saw the one Mirabelle shot start to rise. “What the hell!” He aimed at it, spray in no danger of hitting the girl since it was still low to the ground.

Bang!

Its head exploded and the zombie went back down.

He kept his eye on it for one second, two, three.

Beside him, Mirabelle’s rifle cracked and another zombie fell.

Then both it and the one whose head he’d just blown to pieces started moving again.

“No,” he said. “That’s impossible.”

But it wasn’t, not if he believed his own eyes.

“What are we going to do?” Mirabelle asked. “They’re not dying.”

“We need to get her out of here.”

“We’re about to have company,” Eliza said from behind him.

All the noise had apparently gotten the zombies from the gas station excited and made them pick up their pace. They were no more than twenty-five feet away.

The three determined zombies at the dumpster finally turned away from it and began staggering toward Cal and Mirabelle.

“Hold your fire,” Cal told Mirabelle, then ran for the dumpster, hopping over the reaching hands of the fallen dead, dodging between the ones still standing, his heart racing at a manic pace as he passed far too near for comfort, the smell of their rotting flesh and innards filling his nose.

He tried to slam the butt of the shotgun into one of the standing zombies that he couldn’t dodge, instead pulled himself off balance and nearly fell.

The strap was still around his shoulder.

He cursed and body-slammed the walking corpse. It went flying into the dumpster and collapsed.

He slid the strap from his shoulder and slammed the butt of the gun into the face of what once might have been an attractive woman. There was a crunch and she went to the ground.

One left between him and the dumpster.

It lunged, snapping at him, teeth clacking together. He swept at its legs. It fell and he sidestepped away so his ankle didn’t get bit.

Then he tossed the shotgun up onto the dumpster and leapt.

He scrambled up, the girl shrieking and pressing herself against the alley wall the dumpster rested against.

“It’s okay,” he told her, picking up the gun. “We’re getting you out of here.”

He turned to see the fallen zombies getting up again. “Start shooting!” he told Mirabelle.

Behind her, Eliza and Jonathan had their weapons up, but were watching him rather than the zombies behind them.

Zombies which were almost upon them.

“Look out!” He pointed and Eliza spun just as a fat dead man wearing a too-tight dress shirt lunged for her.

Moving faster than seemed possible, she swung the hockey stick at its head.

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