Forsaken World (Book 1): Innocence Lost by Thomas A. Watson

shooter was a man on the ground.
    As two more people came out of the shadows and joined the pile, one of the attackers lifted his head as the others leaned down, making the man scream again. “What the fuck,” Lance mumbled, stepping closer to the window. The group was several houses past Doug’s house which was across the street and a lot down from his house, but Lance swore the fronts of the attackers were now soaked in blood. “Did he stab them?” he asked out loud as the attackers lowered their heads again.
    Seeing movement out to the corner of his eye, he turned looking past Jennifer’s house to see a group of people stagger down the street. “Shit,” he mumbled, stepping back as his heart started beating out of his chest. Making a quick count of nineteen, Lance watched the way they moved.
    Their bodies weren’t moving fluidly like normal people but instead with small jerks. The group wasn’t running, but they damn sure weren’t walking either—more like a trot. Lance knew he could easily outrun them but noticed another group coming off the main road in the subdivision, turning down their street that was slightly bigger, and they were fast-walking.
    Stepping back from the window, Lance almost dropped his coffee mug as his hands trembled. Setting it on a small table, he looked over to the open door of the den and saw the light from the TV pouring out. Moving over to the door, he watched Ian shoot the zombies on the game then looked back at the window at the crowd moving past the house. Walking into the den, Lance grabbed the remote and turned the TV off thinking the people outside were moving like the zombies on the game.
    “Dude, I was kicking ass,” Ian snapped, and Lance stepped over, putting his finger on Ian’s lips. Ian’s eyes got wide as Lance stepped back into the living room, easing up to the window, almost expecting the crowd to be gone since the game was off, but the last of the group was in front of the house. “What’s wrong with them?” Ian whispered beside him.
    “I don’t know, but they are attacking people out there,” Lance whispered as a gunshot popped off across the street, and the crowd converged on the house.
    “That’s Mr. Baker’s house,” Ian said, moving closer to the window.
    “He should’ve stayed his ass inside,” Lance said as the group closed in on a lone figure in the front yard shooting at the group with a pistol. Slap they heard in the sitting room beside them as a bullet slammed through the window into the wall. “That idiot shot into the house.”
    “Lance, they are attacking him,” Ian said as the group dove on the figure.
    “I’m calling the police,” Lance whispered, running for the phone as screams erupted from across the street.
    “Think I should wake Jason?”
    “Let’s get the police here first,” Lance said, picking up the phone and pressing 911. He listened to the ringing for several minutes. “I expected them to answer faster than this. They do on TV,” he said, looking at the display and seeing he had been listening for six minutes.
    Hanging up the phone, Lance looked up as Ian eased up the stairs, afraid his footsteps could be heard outside. Lance followed him up and found Ian standing outside of Jason’s door, tapping softly and whispering, “Jason, we need you.”
    “What the hell smells like rotten eggs?” Lance asked, looking around.
    “Shit if I know,” Ian said, trying the handle and finding it was locked. “Damn it, Ooops, quit beating off, and open the door,” he whispered harshly as another scream sounded outside.
    “That was a woman,” Lance said, heading back to the stairs.
    “That bitch better stay the fuck outside,” Ian whispered and followed Lance downstairs. He stopped as Lance didn’t head to the window but to the den. When he came back carrying the shotgun, Ian took off and grabbed the AR.
    “Is one in the chamber?” Lance asked, slowly pumping the shotgun to load a round in the chamber.
    “Hell no.