The cats were going crazy. That was my first clue something was wrong out there. I mean, they were known to mew from time to time but nothing like the panicked cries and banging coming from the rest of the house. Groggily I sat up and checked the clock of my cell phone which was charging nearby. Geezus, 2 a.m. Still half-asleep I rolled off the bed to my feet and opened the door. That's when the smell hit me. I had left the windows open that night to let some of the cool air in. The days had been so hot and dry. A common condition in west texas. At first I had thought maybe the wind had just shifted and we were downwind from the feed-lots again, but the overtones of decay quickly made themselves apparent.
My two cats dashed into my room and into the closet. I made for the front door to see what was going on to upset them so. It looked like there was some sort of party going on outside, only in slow motion. People were staggering all over the streets. It took a second for the lack of the typical heavy bass music blaring to catch my attention. Then I saw my neighbor... you know I never bothered to catch their names... dash from the house, screaming. She was bleeding. I could see the dark stains on her night gown in the illumination provided by her porch light. Someone staggered out door behind her, arms outstretched. He looked like her son. He looked... odd. Several of the people nearby turned and lurched in her direction. There was nowhere for her to go. They were on her in two seconds. There was a chorus of moaning accented by screams and the sickening sounds of tearing flesh. My eyes went wide and my heart raced. I couldnt see what was happening for the other "people" in the way, but I had a pretty good idea. It was at that moment that someone shuffled into view right in front of my door. It was a woman. She was dressed in some kind of torn gown. There was dirt in her hair. She turned to face the window, obviously spotting me. Her face... half of it anyway... was gone...
I fell backwards with a shout. That shout damn near got me killed. The dead woman at my door began to pound on it, and through the open windows I could see several more forms shuffling towards the house, no dout alerted by my yelps. This was something straight out of my worst nightmares. Literally. There was only one word to describe the situation... zombies. Something my subconscious mind had plagued me with for years. Night after night, visions of the rotting dead haunted me. Ever since my car wreck over a decade ago I had had the dreams...
Breaking out of my reverie I scrambled to my feet. I had to get out of here. By the number of forms I saw outside there must be over a hundred of them. Already I can hear them pounding on the door. I dash to my room and pull on some jeans and a shirt. Adrenaline is racing through my system. My eyes search for something to defend myself with, anything. The glass in my windows shatters, and several grey-skinned arms reach through. They're groaning... just like in my nightmares. I grabbed my staff, a slightly curved, thick wooden walking staff my grandmother had bought me some years ago in new mexico. I had liked it because of it's shamanistic look. Somehow I doubt it would be used for anything ritualistic tonight. The glint of metal catches my eye. My sword. It's just a cheap pakistani steel replica, but it's sharp. I have my friend Will to thank for that. He could put an edge on anything. The dead are almost through the window now as I attach the short blade to my belt. I wish Mike were still here. He was always armed to the teeth. Medical school had stolen him and his gun collection away to El Paso though.
The large windows in the dining room break about the same time as the front door gave way. I was halfway across the room, heading for the kitchen. Two small, panicked, streaks of fur followed hot on my heels. Bringing my staff to bear I clubbed the nearest corpse, sending it sprawling back into its companions. It slowed the mob long enough to get to the kitchen and fling the door open. The backyard was clear, thank god. Seems the 6 foot fence was at least somewhat effective. Wedge and Mara, my cats, dashed out as I slammed the door shut behind me, locking the deadbolt with my keys, which were mercifully enough still in the pants I had pulled on. The dead fell against the door immediately, banging and clawing at it. I had only a few moments before some of them found the window...
I made for the back gate and the alleyway. There was no way I could make it to my SUV. The front yard was overrun. Looking around I could see the dead meandering about the streets of my neighborhood, but except for the ones now crashing through my back window they didnt seem to notice me... yet. I opened the gate and entered the alley behind our place. Wedge and Mara followed. I was surprised at that. Those two usually didnt seem to fond of me. I guess they figured they had a better chance while sticking the the guy with the beat-stick. Keeping as low as I could I crept through the dark alleyway. Dark. I had forgotten how dark it got back here at night. If I bumped into one of those walking dead-guys I'd be in a world of hurt. Well... with any luck they cant see in the dark very well either.
My some miracle I made it to the end of the alley. I had hoped to flag down someone in a car and make for the police, or fire department, or a hospital, ANYTHING really. My mind was racing and my body was on overdrive from teh adrenaline surging through me. My hopes were dashed when I got a good look at the condition of the street. There were several crashed cars. Some of them were on fire. The street was mostly blocked. Apparently some folks had bailed or crashed rather than run into these walking corpses. There were a few of them visible in the street. They hadnt seen me yet. How fast had all this happened? Had things really fallen apart this quickly? Where did they all come from? My mind went over the layout of the neighborhood. There was a graveyard, about a mile away. That must be where this started.
Putting the toe-heel express into full throttle I headed down the street. I could outrun these guys... for awhile. My fat-ass wasnt made for running, and my old car-wreck injuries would eventually slow me down to a crawl. Already my shattered right knee was creaking, but the adrenaline hadnt worn off just yet. I could hear screams from some of the houses. Nothing I could do for them... I muttered a silent prayer to the gods for those who were caught unawares and crept on. The only place I could think to head for was Darrell's house, and hope to gods that they hadnt gotten there yet. I was quite a few blocks away... Clicking my tongue softly I caught the attention of my two feline refugees and we ran along.
If my dreams and the movies were any indication, the "infection," or "curse," or whatever it was would spread like a plague. Those who were killed would rise up eventually. And those who were bitten, would turn in time. Did I have any hard evidence of this? Of course not. But instinct and a little thing my friends like to call "gamer sense" made me fairly confident of these facts.
A few more blocks. They were still there. Not all packed together like at my house. But just a few of them is enough. The screams and shouts of fear and confusion were everywhere. One person sped past me in a convertible, only to crash into a pole a few dozen yards later, his female passenger was latched onto his neck, chewing hungrily. He must have been trying to save her... No time for sentimentality as I swung my staff in a wide arc, knocking the head off an unsespecting corpse that was in my path. Some of them were less sturdy than others it seemed, no doubt relative to their decayed state. The tried and true movie method seemed to be workign so far. The body didnt get up. Mental note to self... aim for the head. It's the only way to be sure. My cats were faring significantLY better than I was. They weaved easily between the legs of the walking dead when they had to. My breath was coming in ragged gasps as the adrenaline rush gave way to a sense of creeping dread. I was only about halfway to D's house, and I was already giving out. Years of MacDonald's burgers were taking their toll on me... I had to find a place to catch my breath. A nearby dumpster caught my eye, and as I hauled my body in my cat's must have agreed as they followed suit. Closing the lid, I could only hope the dead would wander nearby and hear, or smell, or sense, me... whatever they did.
How long did I sit there? I couldn't tell. The stench of garbage was overshadowed by fatgiue. My breathing had finally slowed to something sane. My heart was beating at a reasonable pace. Nothing had come by and tried to eat me just yet so for that I was thankful. Mara and wedge were licking their paws idly, still huddled up against me in the darkness of the trash. Panic lept upon me though, as I thought about my friends over at D's place ance the danger they were in if they weren't already fighting for their lives. With the creaking in my joints worse than ever I stood up, peeking out from under the flimsy plastic lid of my shelter. There were a few dead-boys nearby, but they werent facing me. Experience had shown that if I kept quiet they might not notice me. And that would have been great if I hadnt slipped and fallen noisily onto the pavement, my staff clattering and rolling away.
The zombies turned to face me. Their eyes were grey, glossed over. They both were missing large patches of skin, revealing muscle and bone beneath. Their clothes were old, torn, and rotting like the rest of them. They stepped over my staff and lurched towards me. I needed that staff... it was the bulkiest weapon I had. Drawing my sward from it's scabbard I attempted to dodge around them to the left and snatch my other weapon from the ground, using my sword to fend them off. And that might have worked had I remembered that I am half-crippled, overweight, and not terribly nimble. My left leg skidded on the asphalt and I tumbled to the ground. One of the zombies fell right on top of me. I managed to get my sword-blade in his mouth, holding him off just long enough to slide the even clumsier corpse off of me and scramble away. Mara and Wedge watched with interest from their perch on the dumpster. Going back to plan 'A' I grabbed my staff and ran. The three zombies pursued, slowly. The close call rattled me, and I didnt stop shaking till I had cleared 5 more blocks. God bless adrenaline...
My two cats dashed into my room and into the closet. I made for the front door to see what was going on to upset them so. It looked like there was some sort of party going on outside, only in slow motion. People were staggering all over the streets. It took a second for the lack of the typical heavy bass music blaring to catch my attention. Then I saw my neighbor... you know I never bothered to catch their names... dash from the house, screaming. She was bleeding. I could see the dark stains on her night gown in the illumination provided by her porch light. Someone staggered out door behind her, arms outstretched. He looked like her son. He looked... odd. Several of the people nearby turned and lurched in her direction. There was nowhere for her to go. They were on her in two seconds. There was a chorus of moaning accented by screams and the sickening sounds of tearing flesh. My eyes went wide and my heart raced. I couldnt see what was happening for the other "people" in the way, but I had a pretty good idea. It was at that moment that someone shuffled into view right in front of my door. It was a woman. She was dressed in some kind of torn gown. There was dirt in her hair. She turned to face the window, obviously spotting me. Her face... half of it anyway... was gone...
I fell backwards with a shout. That shout damn near got me killed. The dead woman at my door began to pound on it, and through the open windows I could see several more forms shuffling towards the house, no dout alerted by my yelps. This was something straight out of my worst nightmares. Literally. There was only one word to describe the situation... zombies. Something my subconscious mind had plagued me with for years. Night after night, visions of the rotting dead haunted me. Ever since my car wreck over a decade ago I had had the dreams...
Breaking out of my reverie I scrambled to my feet. I had to get out of here. By the number of forms I saw outside there must be over a hundred of them. Already I can hear them pounding on the door. I dash to my room and pull on some jeans and a shirt. Adrenaline is racing through my system. My eyes search for something to defend myself with, anything. The glass in my windows shatters, and several grey-skinned arms reach through. They're groaning... just like in my nightmares. I grabbed my staff, a slightly curved, thick wooden walking staff my grandmother had bought me some years ago in new mexico. I had liked it because of it's shamanistic look. Somehow I doubt it would be used for anything ritualistic tonight. The glint of metal catches my eye. My sword. It's just a cheap pakistani steel replica, but it's sharp. I have my friend Will to thank for that. He could put an edge on anything. The dead are almost through the window now as I attach the short blade to my belt. I wish Mike were still here. He was always armed to the teeth. Medical school had stolen him and his gun collection away to El Paso though.
The large windows in the dining room break about the same time as the front door gave way. I was halfway across the room, heading for the kitchen. Two small, panicked, streaks of fur followed hot on my heels. Bringing my staff to bear I clubbed the nearest corpse, sending it sprawling back into its companions. It slowed the mob long enough to get to the kitchen and fling the door open. The backyard was clear, thank god. Seems the 6 foot fence was at least somewhat effective. Wedge and Mara, my cats, dashed out as I slammed the door shut behind me, locking the deadbolt with my keys, which were mercifully enough still in the pants I had pulled on. The dead fell against the door immediately, banging and clawing at it. I had only a few moments before some of them found the window...
I made for the back gate and the alleyway. There was no way I could make it to my SUV. The front yard was overrun. Looking around I could see the dead meandering about the streets of my neighborhood, but except for the ones now crashing through my back window they didnt seem to notice me... yet. I opened the gate and entered the alley behind our place. Wedge and Mara followed. I was surprised at that. Those two usually didnt seem to fond of me. I guess they figured they had a better chance while sticking the the guy with the beat-stick. Keeping as low as I could I crept through the dark alleyway. Dark. I had forgotten how dark it got back here at night. If I bumped into one of those walking dead-guys I'd be in a world of hurt. Well... with any luck they cant see in the dark very well either.
My some miracle I made it to the end of the alley. I had hoped to flag down someone in a car and make for the police, or fire department, or a hospital, ANYTHING really. My mind was racing and my body was on overdrive from teh adrenaline surging through me. My hopes were dashed when I got a good look at the condition of the street. There were several crashed cars. Some of them were on fire. The street was mostly blocked. Apparently some folks had bailed or crashed rather than run into these walking corpses. There were a few of them visible in the street. They hadnt seen me yet. How fast had all this happened? Had things really fallen apart this quickly? Where did they all come from? My mind went over the layout of the neighborhood. There was a graveyard, about a mile away. That must be where this started.
Putting the toe-heel express into full throttle I headed down the street. I could outrun these guys... for awhile. My fat-ass wasnt made for running, and my old car-wreck injuries would eventually slow me down to a crawl. Already my shattered right knee was creaking, but the adrenaline hadnt worn off just yet. I could hear screams from some of the houses. Nothing I could do for them... I muttered a silent prayer to the gods for those who were caught unawares and crept on. The only place I could think to head for was Darrell's house, and hope to gods that they hadnt gotten there yet. I was quite a few blocks away... Clicking my tongue softly I caught the attention of my two feline refugees and we ran along.
If my dreams and the movies were any indication, the "infection," or "curse," or whatever it was would spread like a plague. Those who were killed would rise up eventually. And those who were bitten, would turn in time. Did I have any hard evidence of this? Of course not. But instinct and a little thing my friends like to call "gamer sense" made me fairly confident of these facts.
A few more blocks. They were still there. Not all packed together like at my house. But just a few of them is enough. The screams and shouts of fear and confusion were everywhere. One person sped past me in a convertible, only to crash into a pole a few dozen yards later, his female passenger was latched onto his neck, chewing hungrily. He must have been trying to save her... No time for sentimentality as I swung my staff in a wide arc, knocking the head off an unsespecting corpse that was in my path. Some of them were less sturdy than others it seemed, no doubt relative to their decayed state. The tried and true movie method seemed to be workign so far. The body didnt get up. Mental note to self... aim for the head. It's the only way to be sure. My cats were faring significantLY better than I was. They weaved easily between the legs of the walking dead when they had to. My breath was coming in ragged gasps as the adrenaline rush gave way to a sense of creeping dread. I was only about halfway to D's house, and I was already giving out. Years of MacDonald's burgers were taking their toll on me... I had to find a place to catch my breath. A nearby dumpster caught my eye, and as I hauled my body in my cat's must have agreed as they followed suit. Closing the lid, I could only hope the dead would wander nearby and hear, or smell, or sense, me... whatever they did.
How long did I sit there? I couldn't tell. The stench of garbage was overshadowed by fatgiue. My breathing had finally slowed to something sane. My heart was beating at a reasonable pace. Nothing had come by and tried to eat me just yet so for that I was thankful. Mara and wedge were licking their paws idly, still huddled up against me in the darkness of the trash. Panic lept upon me though, as I thought about my friends over at D's place ance the danger they were in if they weren't already fighting for their lives. With the creaking in my joints worse than ever I stood up, peeking out from under the flimsy plastic lid of my shelter. There were a few dead-boys nearby, but they werent facing me. Experience had shown that if I kept quiet they might not notice me. And that would have been great if I hadnt slipped and fallen noisily onto the pavement, my staff clattering and rolling away.
The zombies turned to face me. Their eyes were grey, glossed over. They both were missing large patches of skin, revealing muscle and bone beneath. Their clothes were old, torn, and rotting like the rest of them. They stepped over my staff and lurched towards me. I needed that staff... it was the bulkiest weapon I had. Drawing my sward from it's scabbard I attempted to dodge around them to the left and snatch my other weapon from the ground, using my sword to fend them off. And that might have worked had I remembered that I am half-crippled, overweight, and not terribly nimble. My left leg skidded on the asphalt and I tumbled to the ground. One of the zombies fell right on top of me. I managed to get my sword-blade in his mouth, holding him off just long enough to slide the even clumsier corpse off of me and scramble away. Mara and Wedge watched with interest from their perch on the dumpster. Going back to plan 'A' I grabbed my staff and ran. The three zombies pursued, slowly. The close call rattled me, and I didnt stop shaking till I had cleared 5 more blocks. God bless adrenaline...