Dead Drunk: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse... One Beer at a Time by Richard Johnson Page B

car.
    Tyrone chose that instant to flee, and the crowd surged
towards them while Trent froze. Looking at his partner, he noticed her beauty
even under extreme pain, and as the morning sun glistened off Sarah’s
tear-soaked, emerald eyes, he knew what he should do. He knew what he must do.
And he did the exact opposite.
    “Don’t leave me!” Sarah shouted as Trent took off. The mob
reached the car and several forms dove through the window while the rest
followed their moving prey.
    Ghastly screams echoed off the buildings followed by the
sharp crack of a pistol. Trent simply quickened his pace and put Sarah Birdsong
behind him, figuratively and literally. A few minutes later his gut ached, his
lungs burned and the crowd grew closer by the step.
    Meanwhile, Tyrone had problems of his own. Already winded,
his ill-fitting work boots were causing his feet to blister. Still, he was
pulling away from the overweight cop.
    Trent’s years of chain-smoking hadn't given him much to work
with, and he soon hit the wall as his silent chasers closed in. So Trent
stopped running and fired every round in his clip. The first shot grazed
Tyrone's shoulder and the second blew the man’s knee apart.
    “You son of a bitch!”
    The janitor hit the pavement and Trent didn’t even turn
around to see the mob rip the helpless man to pieces. He was only a mile from
home and just might make it after all.

Chapter
10
    Par for the Course
     
    Charlie and Jim made their way towards the dog pile while
the crowd panicked and spectators ran in every direction. Fights were breaking
out all over, and Left-Nut, being Left-Nut, had already fled amidst the
pandemonium.
    Reaching the scrum and seeing Vidu’s orange shirt at the
bottom of the pile, Charlie grabbed his squirming legs and pulled him from the
mass of tangled bodies. Vidu slid out and latched onto a lady running past,
tripping and grabbing her in one fluid motion. He opened his mouth wide and
ripped a chunk of flesh from the screaming woman’s calf.
    “What the fuck are you doing?” Charlie dropped his friend
and backed away in horror as two more deranged lunatics tore into the woman’s
trembling body like she was a downed wildebeest.
    Jim tugged at Charlie’s arm and they sprinted pell-mell towards
the apartment, ignoring the trampled and torn apart bodies around them. Men and
women, young and old, found themselves caught in the quickly growing cycle of
exponential carnage. If there could be hell on earth, it would look a lot like
this.
    They caught up with Left-Nut and told him to pick up the
pace with a few choice words. One hot minute later, the trio reached the
apartment. Of course, Charlie had lost the key during his tumble down the fire
escape earlier, and the doorbell was broken.
    After they pounded on the door for what would seem like an
eternity, Smokey emerged wearing a zebra-patterned Snuggie and holding a joint.
“Who kicked your ass?” he said upon seeing his friend’s shiner.
    Charlie shoved Smokey aside, slammed the door and turned the
deadbolt. “Everybody wake the fuck up!”
    The remaining crew was in varying states of disarray, but
the consensus was that nobody wanted to “wake the fuck up.”
    Blake rubbed the sleep from his eyes while sitting up on the
couch. “This better be good, my head’s pounding.” He squinted. “Holy shit,
Charlie, what happened to your face?”
    “Guys, something crazy’s going on and I’m not kidding.”
    “Like what?” Mike asked. “Terrorists?”
    Charlie shook his head. “I got no clue, but it’s a fucking
nightmare outside.”
    “It’s true, people are going ape-shit,” Jim added while a
speechless Left-Nut nodded in agreement.
    Russ crossed his arms. “You guys think you can pull one over
on old Russ do you? Well you can all kiss my ass because I’m not taking the
bait.”
    Charlie pulled the living room drapes back and revealed the
spiraling mayhem in the neighborhood. “Take a look for yourself.” Cars zipped
past,