boys.
That’s when he, like Purnell, saw a couple of the “conjoined” flesh-eaters, three arms where there should be four. Two heads on what looked like a single body. Thick, dripping excretions pouring forth from their numerous sores.
“Disgusting,” Mr. Arthur said, blasting one of the two heads, only to have the flesh-eater remain upright, the jaws of the second head still opening and closing in hunger. Mr. Arthur just shook his head at the sight and shot the second head between the eyes.
Ryan and Jesse reached Mr. Arthur just as he was reloading, pulling his last remaining magazine from his pocket. He slammed the clip home, drew a chamber into the breach, and nodded at the boys.
“All right, I’ll cover your retreat,” he cried. “Whatever you do, don’t look back, keep running, and if I don’t catch up to you, just keep running. Do
not
come back for me.”
Ryan was surprised but saw the dead serious look on Mr. Arthur’s face and nodded. Helping Jesse along, the pair limped into the woods. Bones, who had been with the boys, went with them for a few feet but then came back alongside Mr. Arthur, who smiled.
“I appreciate the assist, Bones,” he said. “You see that idiot SWAT officer, you’ll drag his ass back over here, won’t you? If he’s still alive, mind you?”
Bones wasn’t paying attention, instead barking at the mass of flesh-eaters. Mr. Arthur sighed and raised the gun, firing a few more rounds into undead foreheads. It was easy shooting, but there were just so many of them. He’d had nightmares like this from his hunting days—one afternoon the turkeys finally rose up and fought back. He had to suppress a grin at the memory but then kept shooting.
That’s when a flesh-eater emerged from the woods behind him and bit down squarely on both his carotid artery and jugular vein at the same time with a mouth wide enough to make any dentist proud.
“ARRRGGH!!!” screamed Mr. Arthur as he immediately sank to his knees. Hearing this, Bones wheeled around and quickly tore the flesh-eater’s throat out, but it was clearly too late for the middle-aged former resident of Duncan.
“The
boys
…” Mr. Arthur managed to whisper to Bones, who immediately got the message. The shepherd turned and went after Ryan and Jesse, leaving Mr. Arthur to die.
As the flesh-eaters moved closer, Mr. Arthur figured he had a single bullet left and raised the gun as he leaned against the trunk of a tree. He momentarily considered taking his own life but figured one more dead flesh-eater was more pressing. Suddenly, one of the mass lunged for him and Mr. Arthur squeezed the trigger, blasting the final bullet directly into the forehead of the surprised, still living but only for a nanosecond more SWAT officer, who had just escaped the cannibalistic horde only to now be blasted directly back into their arms.
This ended up being the last thing Mr. Arthur ever saw.
“
Crap
.”
Meanwhile, Bones was galloping through the forest, able to easily follow the scent track of Ryan and the wounded Jesse. But as he went, he suddenly heard a voice saying his name from just behind him.
“
Boooones
.”
Bones looked around and saw Officer Purnell approaching, limping through the underbrush on the devastated stump that was once his foot. Bones recognized the now-twin smells of the officer, the remnants of the once-living man but also that of the corpse he had now become. Bones whipped around and launched himself at Purnell’s throat, tearing it out in a single motion.
Before the officer had even sunk to the ground, Bones was back charging after Ryan and Jesse.
V
T he boys and their canine companion had raced along as best they could for a good twenty minutes before Jesse finally collapsed alongside a dry creek bed. These flesh-eaters weren’t very fast, particularly the ones now bound together, and the boys had put a good couple of miles between themselves and their attackers. Unfortunately, the jostling
That’s when he, like Purnell, saw a couple of the “conjoined” flesh-eaters, three arms where there should be four. Two heads on what looked like a single body. Thick, dripping excretions pouring forth from their numerous sores.
“Disgusting,” Mr. Arthur said, blasting one of the two heads, only to have the flesh-eater remain upright, the jaws of the second head still opening and closing in hunger. Mr. Arthur just shook his head at the sight and shot the second head between the eyes.
Ryan and Jesse reached Mr. Arthur just as he was reloading, pulling his last remaining magazine from his pocket. He slammed the clip home, drew a chamber into the breach, and nodded at the boys.
“All right, I’ll cover your retreat,” he cried. “Whatever you do, don’t look back, keep running, and if I don’t catch up to you, just keep running. Do
not
come back for me.”
Ryan was surprised but saw the dead serious look on Mr. Arthur’s face and nodded. Helping Jesse along, the pair limped into the woods. Bones, who had been with the boys, went with them for a few feet but then came back alongside Mr. Arthur, who smiled.
“I appreciate the assist, Bones,” he said. “You see that idiot SWAT officer, you’ll drag his ass back over here, won’t you? If he’s still alive, mind you?”
Bones wasn’t paying attention, instead barking at the mass of flesh-eaters. Mr. Arthur sighed and raised the gun, firing a few more rounds into undead foreheads. It was easy shooting, but there were just so many of them. He’d had nightmares like this from his hunting days—one afternoon the turkeys finally rose up and fought back. He had to suppress a grin at the memory but then kept shooting.
That’s when a flesh-eater emerged from the woods behind him and bit down squarely on both his carotid artery and jugular vein at the same time with a mouth wide enough to make any dentist proud.
“ARRRGGH!!!” screamed Mr. Arthur as he immediately sank to his knees. Hearing this, Bones wheeled around and quickly tore the flesh-eater’s throat out, but it was clearly too late for the middle-aged former resident of Duncan.
“The
boys
…” Mr. Arthur managed to whisper to Bones, who immediately got the message. The shepherd turned and went after Ryan and Jesse, leaving Mr. Arthur to die.
As the flesh-eaters moved closer, Mr. Arthur figured he had a single bullet left and raised the gun as he leaned against the trunk of a tree. He momentarily considered taking his own life but figured one more dead flesh-eater was more pressing. Suddenly, one of the mass lunged for him and Mr. Arthur squeezed the trigger, blasting the final bullet directly into the forehead of the surprised, still living but only for a nanosecond more SWAT officer, who had just escaped the cannibalistic horde only to now be blasted directly back into their arms.
This ended up being the last thing Mr. Arthur ever saw.
“
Crap
.”
Meanwhile, Bones was galloping through the forest, able to easily follow the scent track of Ryan and the wounded Jesse. But as he went, he suddenly heard a voice saying his name from just behind him.
“
Boooones
.”
Bones looked around and saw Officer Purnell approaching, limping through the underbrush on the devastated stump that was once his foot. Bones recognized the now-twin smells of the officer, the remnants of the once-living man but also that of the corpse he had now become. Bones whipped around and launched himself at Purnell’s throat, tearing it out in a single motion.
Before the officer had even sunk to the ground, Bones was back charging after Ryan and Jesse.
V
T he boys and their canine companion had raced along as best they could for a good twenty minutes before Jesse finally collapsed alongside a dry creek bed. These flesh-eaters weren’t very fast, particularly the ones now bound together, and the boys had put a good couple of miles between themselves and their attackers. Unfortunately, the jostling
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