Part 4

I emerged from the treeline an entirely different beast. Moist dirt covered my jeans, extra attention paid to the metal bits to dull their glint in the moonlight. My long hair lay close against my head, wet with juice from possibly poisonous berries. A pair of vines wrapped around my chest, providing a touch of camouflage and a certain degree of modesty if I was successful in finding living persons. Hopefully people with indoor plumbing. One awkward call of nature in the woods was more than enough.

Despite my small stature and lackluster arm strength I felt powerful as I stalked through the tall grasses. Prey turned cautious predator. Disguised as I was, so long as I only moved when they weren't looking I was nothing more than a plant to them. I took down three of the man-eaters as I crossed the field. Judging by the large building and parking lot ahead it was likely lawn gone to seed rather than genuine prairie. A government building? A school, perhaps? Judging by the overgrown grass it had been at least a few weeks since the outbreak. If the building was still defended after so long it was likely it had been turned into some sort of evacuation center. With any luck there would be dozens still alive inside.

I slowed as I reached the edge of the grass. There had to be a hundred zombies milling around and more coming from the woods. They were inside the gates, inside the school itself. The whole accursed town could be here, alive and dead alike. With the yard and building overrun they were likely in the cafeteria or gymnasium if there was a large number of survivors. If there were only a few there was no telling where in the building they might be. Saving or even joining them was near impossible with my current resources. If I left the tall grass they'd see through my camouflage quickly enough and then it would be a one way trip through the horde, hoping I could find sanctuary before one of them brought me down. No, I wasn't that desperate yet.

A single gunshot rang out, loud and close. Unlike the others, this one was swiftly followed by screaming. There were no more gunshots, and the screaming ended before I could finish processing that it was happening. 'Are they all dead?' I wondered. Curiosity urged me to investigate but instinct was driving me to head back to the woods, the safety of the heights. Either way, I couldn't stay in the meadow. Every moment risked discovery by the shamblers.

A putter-putter of an engine snapped me out of the quandary. It was so soft as to be indistinguishable over the groaning and shambling unless I listened closely. 'That one.' It was a truck, parked on the road for a quick exit. A sensible vehicle for the apocalypse, I supposed. Green only went so far.

I wondered if the owner was coming right back. That was the normal assumption when a motor was left running but the situation was anything but normal. With a full tank it could have been idling there for days, separated from its driver by a sea of zombies.

I couldn't just sit around waiting for them to return forever. I counted silently to sixty before grabbing a rock. I leapt from the grass, three light-footed steps before all the nearby zombies turned to look at me and groaned. Dozens more heard the cries and joined in. I nearly turned back at the sight but it was too late to change my mind. I sped up instead, tossing the rock at the one fat zombie that stood in my way. Sadly my throw fell pitifully short, but my spear served better. It took the spear high in the chest, not a killing blow but enough to throw it off balance. I left the spear in the giant, pushing off it for further speed.

Before I knew it I was inside the truck, tired arms pulling the door shut as hard and fast as I could. There was no time to search for the lock button. Instead I needed to get the truck moving before they surrounded me - 'Oh come on, a goddam stickshift?' Not stopping to reminisce about how many years it had been since I'd driven one I stretched my foot out to hit the clutch and shifted into first gear with a creak.

I hadn't realized just how short I was, either that or this truck was built for sasquatches. I couldn't see over the dash far enough to tell if there were any zombies or parked cars in front of me if I was working the pedals so I was stuck in an idling first gear as I stood half up out of the seat to see. Five miles an hour. It wasn't a lot of speed to outmaneuver zombies with, especially in a vehicle this large. There wasn't enough room to turn around so instead I made my way around the parking lot, my nerves steadily fraying.

I flinched as I hit something too short for me to see. Blood spurted up onto the windshield as I tried to not think about how it was probably a zombie child. It slowed me just enough that three zombies blocked me off. I gunned the engine but too late. They got knocked over just fine, but one must have gummed up a wheel because the truck came to a twisting halt.

"Shit." With only a moment to spare for consideration I pushed open the overly heavy door and leapt out. I couldn't depend on anyone coming to save me. Staying in the truck would end in dehydration or broken windows but either way I'd be dead.

Ironically it was just after thinking that no one else living would come that I spied a rarity in this new world: a living man. Unfortunately he didn't look like he'd be alive for much longer. Ragged looking and limping badly he still refused to let go of the heavy satchel he was carrying. In addition to the scattered dozens around the parking lot and field he had at least a hundred more zombies licking at his heels. It was dangerous, but after likely stealing his truck I couldn't just leave him.

I moved swiftly but carefully through the open areas, avoiding the narrow spots between cars where I could get cornered. I didn't think he'd seen me yet, his eyes going wild as he stared at the empty space where his truck used to be. My short drive had lured most of the parking lot zombies away from his area but he only had another ten seconds before he started getting eaten to death.

"Hey dumbass!" It had been awhile since I was I was so blunt but I could tell it was what he needed. "Get your ass moving!" It hurt a bit to yell like that through my parched throat but it was a heck of a lot easier to ignore than gout.

Fat zombie staggered towards me as I passed, my primitive branch-spear sticking out of his gut. I tugged it out, not bothering to take the time to kill him as I danced out of reach. So long as I kept moving he wouldn't catch me. They were relentless, but rather slow - fat zombie in particular.

I grabbed the man's arm when I reached him, my spear serving as a walking stick to balance me as I took some of the weight off his bad leg. He started walking but the first thing I heard out of his mouth nearly sent me tumbling. "Sophia?"

Another man calling me that same name. Sadly it was a mystery that had to wait. "Unless you have a better idea we need to make it to the treeline, we might be able to lose them there." We were making slow progress, if only because the zombies were too stupid to cut us off rather than walk towards us in a straight line. I did have to stake one that came from directly in front of us.

"There's no time," he said. "If I don't get these supplies back soon Carl will die."

I felt for the man, even felt a twinge when he said Carl would die even though I didn't know who that was, but he was overestimating our capabilities. "We don't exactly have time to hotwire a car. So unless you can fly…" I trailed off as I spotted a purple bicycle discarded on the side of the road. "That could work."