I didn't know what I was more concerned about. The fact that the orphanage had be overun by these things, or where the hell Matt had found a gun. And as he tugged violently on my arm, I didn't move. I wouldn't move. I looked down at Rogers corpse which was strewn across the wooden floorboards, blood oozing from the bullet hole in the back of his head.
"He was dead before I shot him, y'know..." Matt whispered. I tore my eyes away from the mangled body at my feet and looked up at him.
"Exactly."
***
Roger wasn't the only one that that; they were everywhere. While they appeared injured, it was much more than that; they were dead. The creatures moaned with eager stomachs as they lurched for their possible meals and ripped them apart. Me and Matt sprinted towards the roof, passing kids who were already getting supplies and barcading the stairs. This was serious. And by now, the lingering smell of rotten flesh was almost unbearable. Turning a doorknob, I pushed open a heavy mahogany door and entered a dark room, greeted with stony silence. We stepped in and began digging blindly through mound of hastily stacked junk. My hands clumsily gropped the blackness until they found something; a crowbar. I grasped it tightly in both hands, my knuckles whitening. I was armed.
We ran back into the corridoor. The bookshelf they'd put in front of a stairway's door had fallen over, and a bony body shot through the doors chipping wood. Splinters stuck in it's flesh and they stared in horror, unable to move. I acted quickly and swung the crowbar at his head with all my strength. I heard the cracking of it's skull, as his head spilled blood and brains.
"I'm pretty sure you have to aim for the head," I told them simply.
We clambered up the last flight of stairs, burst through the door and onto the roof. The crisp early morning air brushed against our faces and we were greeted by the other twenty or so survivors. A few more people broke through the door after us, quickly slamming it shut and barcadding it.
Everybody tossed around ideas, but for a house of geniuses, they weren't so impressive. One suggested suicide, another considered going down the fire escape.
"You're forgetting the ones on the street," I muttered, dismissing that idea. I rattled my brain. Maybe we could fight them off, with a blunt instrument like the crowbar? No, that's stupid. Way too risky. I frowned and walked over to the edge, looking down at the ground below. The kids who I onced observed from the rooftop, were now all replaced with shambling undead. How did this happen?
"A zombie apocalypse!" Exclaimed Matt, stopping my train of thought. "I told you it would happen one day."
"Matt, this isn't one of your fucking games!" I hissed at him. "Zombies don't exist!"
"Oh, come on Mello!" Matt dug into his pockets for his cigarettes, 'cause this was getting way too weird. "You've seen the movies. They stumble around all emotionless and hungry, knocking into walls. And when they spot you, they chase you and try to bite your head off."
"So," I chuckled. "What you're saying, is that we've been overrun by thousands of Nears?"
Wait. Where is Near?
