The first two zombies I ran across proved to be no match for my hatchet. One skull was already rolling on the ground before the other realized his buddy had been struck down, and as soon as he started to come after me, I made swift work of dispatching him with a blow to the neck and another to the back of the head once he hit the floor. I decided not to take any chances, so I whipped out a match. Soon both bodies were set ablaze, and I carried on my way.
Zombie. Was that even the right word for those things? 'Zombie' evoked images of mindless undead humans stumbling around without an ounce of free will. But these things… they seemed to have some ember of sentience, small and dim as it may be. I mean, they could fire weapons and were apparently smart enough to rig trip wires that would activate rather sophisticated traps. Sure, they resembled 'zombies' as far as looks go, but I was certain that under the hood, they were very different.
And that scared me.
Unsurprisingly, the landscape - a maze of decrepit buildings, walls, and bridges - was pretty empty. Seb and I had done away with most of the enemy during our initial charge. I was actually glad that he'd gotten injured when he did, at the very end of the battle instead of in the midst of it. Had he collapsed under fire (I shuddered to even think it) it was likely that we both would have wound up dead.
I carefully picked my way over a weathered wooden bridge and tried not to look down. A lot of good I'd do if I ended up splattered on the bottom of that abyss. I wasn't afraid of heights, but something like this was enough to make even the toughest man cringe. Picking up the pace, I decided the less time I spent up here, the better. My feet thunked over the planks and I did my best to quiet the sound, treading carefully until I hit soft dirt on the other side. There was a nicely decapitated body sprawled across the trail. Screwing up my face, I stepped over it before once again assuming a smooth jog.
Darkness was setting fast as the Sun sank down into the seemingly endless expanse of water to my right. I suddenly wished I'd had the sense to ask Sebastian if I could take his lantern. I'd have to tread carefully and hope my eyes adjusted once it really got dark, and I sincerely hoped that I wouldn't be out that long.
Coagulating blood dripped from the end of my axe as it swung back and forth with the movement of my body. I was turning my back on the tower Sebastian and I had battled so hard to get to. I threw a glance over my shoulder at the imposing bastions, wondering if it'd been worth it. As far as I knew, we'd cleared out the zombies tasked with guarding it, and aside from the occasional pocket of two or three, their masses had been significantly diminished and were no longer a dire threat. The problem now was getting Seb healed up enough to make it. I refused to advance all alone. If I was moving forward, damn it, my partner better be with me.
Aw, hell. Where was that barn? Now that I'd made my way over the bridge, my bearings were gone. Funny how you don't take the time to really observe your surroundings when you're running for your life. It all looked different from this angle. Chewing my lower lip, I drummed my fingers over the shaft of the axe clutched to my chest. It… it had been a barn, right? Or was that damned med kit in some other building? Great. Now I was second-guessing myself and Sebastian was bleeding out. Could I make it back to him in time once I did find the syringe? If I found the syringe?
Stop it, I thought angrily at myself. No use getting worked up.
A nasty snapping sound to my left made me draw up short. Pebbles skidded over the ground in front of me as I slid to a halt, eyes narrowed and scanning. It was getting hard to see with the land cast in deep shadows, and at first I thought it was my imagination… but the more I looked at it the more I realized that one of those shadows definitely was moving.
I was too far away for a successful stealth kill, but too close to warrant the sniper rifle. I crouched low and placed my weight evenly over my feet, hoping to minimize the sound of my footsteps. My demeanor was oddly calm. A single zombie seemed like nothing after mowing through a couple dozen of the bastards, but I also knew I couldn't afford to get cocky. Sebastian had taught me that very quickly when we'd first started working with each other…
Creeping forward, I held my hatchet before me, just in case. So far, the flickering darkness that was the enemy didn't seem to notice me; instead, it was too distracted by its gruesome meal of bloody remains. I couldn't see what creature was being happily munched on and to be honest I didn't care, but I did find myself pitying the poor thing. What a way to go out, I mused, and made a mental promise to myself not to end up like that.
That was when I realized the zombie wasn't facing away from me as I'd originally thought. Tiny, glowing pinpricks of ghostlike pupils snapped in my direction as the body in its hands fell to the ground. Before I knew it, the thing was charging at me, brandishing an axe much like mine. I shot to my feet, swinging my weapon to parry the poorly-aimed blow. The shock radiated up through my arm and gathered in my shoulder, causing the joint to grate painfully against itself. I gritted my teeth and reeled back to return the strike, but when I hit nothing but empty air, I knew I was in more trouble than I thought.
The head of my axe went flying somewhere into the shadows. With horror, I saw that the blade had been sheared clean off, and I was left with nothing but the splintered handle as defense. I thrust it forward, feeling a sort of morbid satisfaction when I felt it connect with cold, reanimated flesh.
As a living man, I had an advantage over the zombie: agility. I spun out of the way as it swung its hatchet at me again, disturbing the air close to my chest. My hands were behind my head, lifting the sniper rifle from its place on my holster. I sent a bullet into the chamber, thumbed the safety off, peered down the sights, and fired.
The creature's head exploded in a fine spray of thickened blood and liquefied brain matter along with bits of yellowed skull and shattered wood. With a disgusted expression, I tucked the rifle back into place across my back before kicking the dead thing's hand away to claim its axe. The scent of blood hung heavily in the air, coating my tongue and the roof of my mouth, and I spat to the side before dragging my relatively clean forearm over my lips. Will I ever get used to that? I wondered, spitting once more for good measure before swinging my new hatchet over my shoulder and soldiering on.
Seb must be real worried now. I bit my lip. He'd probably heard the sound of the shot, assuming he was still conscious. And he wouldn't like it one bit. He might look and act like a bona fide hard-ass, but trust me, the man had a soft spot. Sometimes I thought the older man put my wellbeing before even his own. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to move faster, wanting to get back to him as soon as possible.
The rest of the journey was thankfully uneventful, much to my relief. The building was indeed a barn – I'd remembered correctly after all. Glass shattered over the axe and fell in glittering shards to the ground as I busted out a lower-level window. The barn itself smelled heavily of mold and rotting hay, but honestly, it was a welcome change from the putrid scent of death and blood that permeated everything else in this hellhole.
I had to suppress a whoop of sheer joy when I saw the tin box emblazoned with a red cross glittering in the dimming sunlight. I fell on it and pried it open with bloodstained hands. Inside was a thick syringe attached to a scary-looking needle, filled with that green goop I'd injected myself with earlier. It was a much larger quantity, however. Perfect.
A grin split my features as I slid the tin carefully into a pocket attached to my shoulder holster and fastened it tight.
My mission complete, I spun on my heel and raced back to where I'd left my partner.
