this has to be done.
Even now I still have to push the reminder that these two were once living, breathing people out of my mind. But I do it. Crouching down behind a display rack, I move in closer, looking for any opportunity to take one down before they’ve even noticed where I am. For the sake of stealth, I want to avoid using my gun, but I make sure it’s easily accessible in its holster to be safe. Instead, I pull out a small knife from where it was strapped, sheathed, to my belt. The blade is almost ten inches long, attached to an engraved ivory hilt. I’ve used it before in sparring matches, but this will be the first real action it’s seen in a long time.
The girl smells me before I have the chance to attack, spinning to face me and letting out a long, guttural moan. As she takes her first staggering step forward, the other turns to see what caught her attention and follows. Not even breathing, I hold my position as they approach me, shuffling but eager. As soon as they’re close enough, I reach out and grab on to a clothing rack, planning to use it as an anchor for my first kick. Instead, my weight sends it crashing down to the floor at my feet. Moving without thinking, I push against it with my foot, sending the entire rack sliding across the floor until it collides with the young female zombie. She topples to the ground in an undignified clump before getting tangled in hangers and winter jackets. The man, who drags his left foot, is a little slower but doesn’t stop moving to see what happened to his companion. I have half a second to duck down and stab my knife into the girl’s skull. The violence of her final death sends blood spewing up as I withdraw my blade, but there’s no time to be disgusted at the scene or myself before I have to dart back up and take a few steps away to avoid the next inevitable attack.
I pause again, letting the limping zombie catch up with me. Whenever possible, I prefer to let them attack first so that I can use their slow reaction time to my benefit. Just as I expected he would, the man goes for my throat with a sudden jerk forward, his hands outstretched. I duck down before he can get a grip on my clothing and let his weight send him toppling over the arch of my back. I hear the thunk of his head hitting the linoleum but focus on moving away before I turn to assess the damage. Even before I look back to strike again, his moaning tells me the fall wasn’t enough to do him in.
Brain damage is a tricky thing. Sometimes it ’s as simple as a knock to the head, hitting just the right spot, or a swift kick to the temple. Sometimes you have to run them right through to make sure they’re really, really dead. This time it’s the latter. Thankfully, I have a plan B. Grimy fingers grab my wrist as I bring my weapon down but his grip falls slack immediately. Dead.
The knife comes up caked in innards as I pull it back out again and sends a splatter of brain matter sailing out to stain my clothing. Wonderful. Not that it matters at this point —I’ve already been hit with all kinds of bodily fluid today. And I have no intention of sticking around to add to the collection. It’s well past time to get out of here.
I take one final look back to make sure I ’m not being followed as I scoot out of the store on the momentum of my cart. I reach the parking lot right when Liam pulls up.
“ Help me shut this again,” I snap at Liam right as he hops out of the van he’s brought to collect me and my haul.
He reacts right away, shooting a questioning look at me that I choose to ignore. Together, we u se our weight to slide the door shut. I can’t lock it, and if there’s anything else still moving around in there, they can probably get out, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. We’ll be long gone before that happens.
“ Are you okay?” Liam asks in lieu of a greeting, his eyes trailing over the carnage that’s been left on my clothing.
“ Yeah, totally fine.” I
Even now I still have to push the reminder that these two were once living, breathing people out of my mind. But I do it. Crouching down behind a display rack, I move in closer, looking for any opportunity to take one down before they’ve even noticed where I am. For the sake of stealth, I want to avoid using my gun, but I make sure it’s easily accessible in its holster to be safe. Instead, I pull out a small knife from where it was strapped, sheathed, to my belt. The blade is almost ten inches long, attached to an engraved ivory hilt. I’ve used it before in sparring matches, but this will be the first real action it’s seen in a long time.
The girl smells me before I have the chance to attack, spinning to face me and letting out a long, guttural moan. As she takes her first staggering step forward, the other turns to see what caught her attention and follows. Not even breathing, I hold my position as they approach me, shuffling but eager. As soon as they’re close enough, I reach out and grab on to a clothing rack, planning to use it as an anchor for my first kick. Instead, my weight sends it crashing down to the floor at my feet. Moving without thinking, I push against it with my foot, sending the entire rack sliding across the floor until it collides with the young female zombie. She topples to the ground in an undignified clump before getting tangled in hangers and winter jackets. The man, who drags his left foot, is a little slower but doesn’t stop moving to see what happened to his companion. I have half a second to duck down and stab my knife into the girl’s skull. The violence of her final death sends blood spewing up as I withdraw my blade, but there’s no time to be disgusted at the scene or myself before I have to dart back up and take a few steps away to avoid the next inevitable attack.
I pause again, letting the limping zombie catch up with me. Whenever possible, I prefer to let them attack first so that I can use their slow reaction time to my benefit. Just as I expected he would, the man goes for my throat with a sudden jerk forward, his hands outstretched. I duck down before he can get a grip on my clothing and let his weight send him toppling over the arch of my back. I hear the thunk of his head hitting the linoleum but focus on moving away before I turn to assess the damage. Even before I look back to strike again, his moaning tells me the fall wasn’t enough to do him in.
Brain damage is a tricky thing. Sometimes it ’s as simple as a knock to the head, hitting just the right spot, or a swift kick to the temple. Sometimes you have to run them right through to make sure they’re really, really dead. This time it’s the latter. Thankfully, I have a plan B. Grimy fingers grab my wrist as I bring my weapon down but his grip falls slack immediately. Dead.
The knife comes up caked in innards as I pull it back out again and sends a splatter of brain matter sailing out to stain my clothing. Wonderful. Not that it matters at this point —I’ve already been hit with all kinds of bodily fluid today. And I have no intention of sticking around to add to the collection. It’s well past time to get out of here.
I take one final look back to make sure I ’m not being followed as I scoot out of the store on the momentum of my cart. I reach the parking lot right when Liam pulls up.
“ Help me shut this again,” I snap at Liam right as he hops out of the van he’s brought to collect me and my haul.
He reacts right away, shooting a questioning look at me that I choose to ignore. Together, we u se our weight to slide the door shut. I can’t lock it, and if there’s anything else still moving around in there, they can probably get out, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. We’ll be long gone before that happens.
“ Are you okay?” Liam asks in lieu of a greeting, his eyes trailing over the carnage that’s been left on my clothing.
“ Yeah, totally fine.” I
Similar Books
Shivers Box Set: Darkening Around Me\Legacy of Darkness\The Devil's Eye\Black Rose
Jane Godman, Dawn Brown, Barbara J. Hancock, Jenna Ryan
