Zombies beat on the metal door behind Nita as she looked over the room again, confirming that none of the other bodies were animated. The only light came from the dying sun outside and an old lantern. She wondered if someone had been here recently. There was a headless body leaning against one of the walls. There were large, dark bloodstains covering the already grimy flannel shirt and an old shotgun sitting in its lap. Behind it, on the wall, was a large blood spatter covering the different survivor messages. She could tell all too well the events leading up to this poor man's end. He was probably hungry. Endlessly hungry. Nothing he ate would satisfy him and water made him feel sick. Even in his last moments, memories of his loved ones only increased his hunger. It was nightmarish and cruel.
Nita turned away, wiping an indignant tear from her eye. Rolled up and shoved together onto a shelf was an assortment of tattered blankets. She grabbed one and tossed it onto the body, stirring up a small cloud of flies. They didn't even bother her. Flies were common these days and she'd had such a terrible day that she couldn't even bring herself to swat at them.
With the zombies outside losing interest, Nita set about dealing with her wounds. Once her armor was off, she examined her abdomen. there was a large bruise covering part of her right side. With no mirror to check, Nita assumed it went all the way to her back. She took several deep breaths. There was no particular pain that stood out to her. Now that the adrenaline had died down, her whole body felt sore, though. Gingerly touching each rib, she made sure that they weren't broken. All things considered, she felt lucky. Not even her father ever dared face a tank.
Once she had disinfected and bandaged all of her scrapes, Nita decided to search the room. There wasn't much that she could use. Trash littered the floor and Nita swore she heard the squeaking of mice over the groaning of the dead outside. She kicked some of the trash away to clear a space for her sleeping bag. A heavy cylinder bounced away as she did so. She picked it up and examined it. There was a fuse at one end of it and different devices attached to it. It had been some time since she had seen a pipe bomb. Hopeful, she searched the room. There were no more pipe bombs, but she did find a bottle of pills. Sighing, she gave up and set up her sleeping bag.
Once she had disinfected and bandaged all of her scrapes, Nita decided that it was time to rest. The dead outside the door had wandered off. They weren't terribly bright. By the time she laid out her sleeping bag and had a supper of pound cake and water, the sun had long since set. she laid there and listened. In the distant parts of the city, through the ever present moaning, she could hear other things. A smoker coughed violently. A witch cried, sounding pathetic. She thought she even heard the screech of a spitter. The city was certainly dangerous.
Nita was jerked awake by the sudden sound of gunfire. The street was alive with movement. She rushed to the door and peered out through the barred window. Through the mass of moving corpses, she could make out a small group of survivors making their way slowly down the road, taking cover whenever they could. She guessed that there were perhaps three people. A woman screamed and there was more gunfire. Unable to sit idly by, Nita Pulled on her armored vest and her balaclava and pulled the door open. She began taking out some of the zombies on the outside of the group with her Ruger.
The survivors took note of the new gunfire and began cutting through the crowd towards Nita. She cleared a few more and reloaded her pistol. Above them was the wet cough of a smoker. The thing poked it's grotesquely deformed head over the edge of a drugstore roof. She put two rounds into it's head before it could attack. There was a puff of smoke and the thing ran off, still coughing. The survivors, two men and a small woman, had separated from the zombies and were nearly to the room.
One of the men, a short, heavily muscled man, made it to the door and was immediately in. The second man stopped just short of the door and made sure the woman, a slight blonde woman with wide eyes, was in front of him. Seeing the black clothed figure in front of her, the woman stopped. There was another cough and Nita pushed the girl into the room without a second thought. She tripped into the room with a small squeak and her companion went to follow. He was taller than the first man and more leanly muscled. He motioned for her to enter first.
As she turned, something wrapped itself around her neck and chest. There was a brief feeling of panic as she was jerked backwards and dragged across the street. The man reached out for her a second too late. She heard him shout into the room. "Derek! Give me a gun!" then she heard the door slam. She stopped resisting and began fumbling at her vest for a knife. The slimy tongue was wrapped around her shoulder, making it difficult to reach the knife on her back. Suddenly, her feet were no longer on the ground and the tongue was becoming tighter. Below her, the zombies had caught up and were reaching for her.
Nita kicked at the zombies to keep them away and continued to search for her knife. Her gun fell from her grip, but she paid it no mind. She couldn't even look down anymore. The disgustingly thick tongue was tightening around her throat and she began struggling for breathe. As her vision began to fade, her fingertips finally closed around a boot knife strapped to her chest. It cut part of the tongue as she pulled it from its sheath and the smoker hacked angrily and tightened its slimy grip. Nita summoned all of her strength and stabbed the knife into the length of tongue over her head.
The smoker screamed and retracted its tongue, taking the knife with it. Nita fell, limp and dazed toward the crowd beneath her.
