I can hear the breathing. The fast, hungry, desperate, breathes distorted by the caked blood in their throats.
The movement is slow now, creaking the floorboards. The creaks get closer to my curtain, under which, is me.
I don't breathe. I can't breathe. I hold my breath for as long as I can before I start to breath quietly through my nose.
The zombie is close now, right in front of me, and the hand touches the fabric...
I slowly pull out the survival knife tucked away in my belt. I grip it so tightly in my hand that my knuckles turn bone white.
I tear away the curtain and slash wildly at the zombie. It cuts it across the jugular spraying a stream of blood onto the window to my right. He's still alive, blood pumping into every single capillary of his whole infected body. His eyes seem to pump with each heart-beat.
He flies at me, mouth open, hissing and screaming. I thrust the knife as close as I can get to its forehead, and it gets lodged deep into his right eye. The zombie screams for a few moments and then falls to the ground with a thump.
I breath. I blink. Once. Twice.
I need to get out of here.
I look at the window. I start trying to tear off the boards I had nailed to it, prying and clawing at it. It wont budge.
"Fuck!" I run over to the cabinets, opening each one. Not one goddamn hammer in the entire place.
"FUCK!"
They'll be here soon. They could probably hear the ruckus from outside, and now I need to get out.
If I dont act now, i'll be one of them.
I run downstairs, opening the closet door. I grab the .17 HMR that my brother bought me last year. Hopefully it'll be effective against these things. I'd only shot it twice in my entire life.
The door is smashed open. That must've been where he got in. Did I leave a light on? How the hell did he know where I was?
No, no, stop. Focus. Focus on getting supplies.
What supplies? I dont have anything that I would want to lug around all of London. Dammit!
I run out the door, and keep running. I try to stay in the shadows as best I can, past the looming houses. The street never seemed this long before.
I catch my breath for a second and stop. Panting I look up into the sky. The Big Ben stands proud and tall above all of the wreckage.
The Big Ben then. I'll run to the Big Ben.