taking my eyes off him.
As he gets closer, I watch his head roll back and forth, then to the sides. As his head moves about, he still stares directly at me. Then his head hangs down and he looks up at me; menacing and very scary.
He walks straight to the counter and I grasp the baseball bat at the base with two hands and slowly twist my upper body off to the right, raising the bat behind me, ready to strike.
We stare into each others eyes, fixed, unmoving, neither of us blinking and long seconds go by. Then his lips peel back to show yellow, uneven teeth and his mouth starts to open wide. He can just feel the bite, he can visualise sinking his dirty, yellow teeth into my flesh.
‘Piss off,’ I shout and swing hard, slamming the bat into the side of his head. An almighty swing and he goes flying off to the side, colliding with the shelving unit. His body weight crashes into the metal frame, driving it backwards, spilling chocolate bars and sweets all over the floor.
The follow through from my swing brings the bat straight into the side of the till with a thunk.
I put the bat down on the counter and pick the till up; it’s very heavy. I yank it hard to pull the cables free and then I raise it above my head and slam it down on the squirming undead who is wrestling with the shelving on the floor. The till smashes into his head and bounces off, driving in the bones of his cheeks.
I move out from the counter with the bat in my hands, step over the now dead undead and move towards the beaded curtain.
Stepping through with my bat raised, I see a small stock room and a flight of stairs going up. To the back of the stock room is a door - barred and bolted. I move over to the door and stand listening, there is a dirty, old, wired glass pane. All I can see is a small back yard and a wall a few feet away. There is no movement outside.
I pull the bolts back, tug the door open and then peer out into the yard. It has a high brick wall and a wooden gate. I go over to the gate and raise the latch… it leads out onto a small road.
The road is empty and clear on both sides.
Going left will take me towards the garage that I was originally heading for, but an idea forms in my mind and I quickly turn back.
I close the gate quietly, then head into the stock room and shut the back door, pushing the bolt into place.
I move up the stairs, with the bat raised and ready. There is a small flat upstairs: a kitchen, lounge, bathroom and two small bedrooms.
They are all clear.
I go back down and into the shop. I see four cans of lighter fluid on display behind the counter and I take them out into the stock room where I find another six cans, and a large box of matches.
Back upstairs, the windows are of a sash type. I open the window at the front of the building and lean out.
Below me are about fifty of the zombies, all gathered at the front of the shop. I have flashbacks to last night, when I was trapped… I had tried to make a Molotov cocktail, which resulted in puking up, but I don’t intend to stick around and watch this time.
I pull the little plastic spout on the first one, up-end the can and squeeze a jet of liquid out onto the crowd below - I try to aim at their faces. They seem excited by the liquid being sprayed on them, and are still very slow moving, but I can hear more groans and noises coming from them.
It takes quite a long time to empty each can; leaning out and bending over, to prevent any spraying on me or the windowsill.
I open the box of matches and pause for a second, hardly believing what I am about to do… mass murder at any other time. I strike a match and flick it out, but it expires before it falls a few feet. I try another and the same thing happens. The third time I lean out and brace my feet, ready to pull back in quickly. I extend my arms, strike a match and quickly shove it into the open box, pushing it into the dark heads of the little sticks. The
As he gets closer, I watch his head roll back and forth, then to the sides. As his head moves about, he still stares directly at me. Then his head hangs down and he looks up at me; menacing and very scary.
He walks straight to the counter and I grasp the baseball bat at the base with two hands and slowly twist my upper body off to the right, raising the bat behind me, ready to strike.
We stare into each others eyes, fixed, unmoving, neither of us blinking and long seconds go by. Then his lips peel back to show yellow, uneven teeth and his mouth starts to open wide. He can just feel the bite, he can visualise sinking his dirty, yellow teeth into my flesh.
‘Piss off,’ I shout and swing hard, slamming the bat into the side of his head. An almighty swing and he goes flying off to the side, colliding with the shelving unit. His body weight crashes into the metal frame, driving it backwards, spilling chocolate bars and sweets all over the floor.
The follow through from my swing brings the bat straight into the side of the till with a thunk.
I put the bat down on the counter and pick the till up; it’s very heavy. I yank it hard to pull the cables free and then I raise it above my head and slam it down on the squirming undead who is wrestling with the shelving on the floor. The till smashes into his head and bounces off, driving in the bones of his cheeks.
I move out from the counter with the bat in my hands, step over the now dead undead and move towards the beaded curtain.
Stepping through with my bat raised, I see a small stock room and a flight of stairs going up. To the back of the stock room is a door - barred and bolted. I move over to the door and stand listening, there is a dirty, old, wired glass pane. All I can see is a small back yard and a wall a few feet away. There is no movement outside.
I pull the bolts back, tug the door open and then peer out into the yard. It has a high brick wall and a wooden gate. I go over to the gate and raise the latch… it leads out onto a small road.
The road is empty and clear on both sides.
Going left will take me towards the garage that I was originally heading for, but an idea forms in my mind and I quickly turn back.
I close the gate quietly, then head into the stock room and shut the back door, pushing the bolt into place.
I move up the stairs, with the bat raised and ready. There is a small flat upstairs: a kitchen, lounge, bathroom and two small bedrooms.
They are all clear.
I go back down and into the shop. I see four cans of lighter fluid on display behind the counter and I take them out into the stock room where I find another six cans, and a large box of matches.
Back upstairs, the windows are of a sash type. I open the window at the front of the building and lean out.
Below me are about fifty of the zombies, all gathered at the front of the shop. I have flashbacks to last night, when I was trapped… I had tried to make a Molotov cocktail, which resulted in puking up, but I don’t intend to stick around and watch this time.
I pull the little plastic spout on the first one, up-end the can and squeeze a jet of liquid out onto the crowd below - I try to aim at their faces. They seem excited by the liquid being sprayed on them, and are still very slow moving, but I can hear more groans and noises coming from them.
It takes quite a long time to empty each can; leaning out and bending over, to prevent any spraying on me or the windowsill.
I open the box of matches and pause for a second, hardly believing what I am about to do… mass murder at any other time. I strike a match and flick it out, but it expires before it falls a few feet. I try another and the same thing happens. The third time I lean out and brace my feet, ready to pull back in quickly. I extend my arms, strike a match and quickly shove it into the open box, pushing it into the dark heads of the little sticks. The
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