gone now. The only thing that filled him now was fear. Fear of what
horrible thing made a sound like that.
They came quick. These zombies weren’t shambling and
stumbling over their feet like their other dead brothers. No, these were
running at full speed, agile. There were four of them, but Jeremy wasn’t so
concerned with how many of them there were compared to how they looked.
The other zombies always looked dead. Grey skin, dull eyes,
and some were more decayed than others. Not these freaks. Their skin still had
a pink tinge to it; their eyes bloodshot. As opposed to the congealed,
coagulated blood of the normal zombies, these new infected had dark-red blood
dripping from their mouths. Jeremy watched as one coughed and hacked as it ran,
a chunk of brownish-red meat shooting out from its lungs.
The Bubbas opened fire. They were obviously unaware of the
whole headshot thing. Either that or they were just really poor shots. Just
blasting away, the runner zombies ran full sprint into the gunfire. One jumped
onto a nearby car, and then leapt again, propelling itself through the air at
Bubba #2. It was easily twenty feet. Impossible for a normal human being. These
were no longer normal human beings.
Unfortunately for Bubba #2, who was mid-reload, the jumper
hit him like a sack of bricks. It began to tear, not bite like the others,
chunks of flesh off the man. Bubba #1 turned his rifle on the infected and by
chance shot it directly in the head. It dropped cold.
Thank God they still die when you shoot them in the head.
Bubba #1 did not last very long as another two runners
tackled him and knocked him off the bed of the truck. Jeremy heard the
sickening crack of bone. The rather large redneck’s fall made his femur snap
and poke through his leg. He didn’t seem to notice the leg injury as he was
being torn to shreds by the runners.
Jeremy looked at the guy hiding, motioning for him to run to
the house. He did, pushing a shambler out of the way to do so. When he got to
the door, Jeremy swung it open and they both ran inside. They didn’t stick
around to see what happened to Driver Bubba. Judging by the gunshots and
screams, he didn’t make it.
As soon as they were inside, Jeremy spun around and closed
the door. He locked the deadbolt, the doorknob and the extra security lock his
dad had installed on the door, both men slumped against the door.
Jeremy looked over at the guy. He was African American,
probably early thirties, wearing a nice button-down shirt, and some tan khakis.
He was wearing what looked like dress shoes, not the kind you would want to run
in.
He was probably at work when everything went down. Man, I’m
glad I got to change clothes.
“Jeremy,” Jeremy whispered, holding out his hand.
“Ben.”
Ben also reached his hand out and the two shook hands.
Jeremy nodded and took a deep breath. Ben seemed like a good guy so far.
It might be a good idea to hang together, but we’ll have
to chit-chat later. Right now we gotta get this door more secure , Jeremy
thought.
He stood up and walked over to the love seat and motioned
towards the door. Ben stood up and walked over to him and the couch, and both
pushed it in front of the door. As soon as they did, there was a slam against
the door.
The runners had finished with the Bubbas. Jeremy knew it was
the runners, which is what he was calling the new type of zombie, because of
the screams. Not moans. He almost missed the moans. Others began to beat on the
door. The wooden door cracked. It was not going to last long.
“We have to get out of here,” Ben said. “Is there a safe
back door?”
Jeremy motioned towards the kitchen.
“Through the kitchen. The garage.”
Ben nodded and motioned with his head that they should get
going. They quickly moved through the kitchen, Jeremy only stopping to grab his
father’s keys off the counter.
When they got to the garage, it was dark. Jeremy went to
turn on the lights but Ben stopped him. He shook his head
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