Undead 02 The Undead Haze by Eloise J. Knapp Page B

guy must’ve been starving when he met his demise. Grateful for this advantage, I took the opportunity and pressed forward, pushing him toward the weakened glass.
    The Zs motions caused globules of ooze to flick onto my face. This struck a chord of primal fear within me as the drips approached my mouth and tried working into my eyes. I had him against the window and pushed at his shoulders. His head flew back and hit the same spot as before. Two more shoves and the glass began falling away in chunks.
    One last slam and the rest of the glass shattered. Shards cascaded everywhere, landing with muted thumps on the snow outside. I bent him backwards over the window sill. My juggernaut motivation began to flag. My muscles strained from the exertion of keeping the undead at bay.
    “Cyrus!”
    Beau’s voice came from outside. The bridge. I looked past the zombie and saw him running toward me. I heard the glass doors downstairs slam shut, and the loud clank of locks sliding home carried over the howls of the stiff.
    Why hadn’t he asked me to lock the doors behind him? That would’ve been the smart thing to do. But what was done was done. All I could do was hold Mr. Stomach Wound back until the cavalry arrived.
    And it did. Beau rounded the last bend and burst through the access door at a run. Instead of helping me throw the undead out the window, he raised a crowbar above his head and brought it down on the thing’s skull. Each hit brought forth bursts of bright red blood. Three more hits later and the dead was truly dead, body twitching before going still entirely.
    Then I noticed the mark on his chest. Bile covered half of it, but I recognized it. Right where my own was. A sword and flames.
    I couldn’t keep staring. Beau grabbed its legs and motioned for me to get his arms. Together we rolled him out the window. I leaned out and watched as he fell, listening as his body landed in a snowy bush below.
    “Where did he come from?” I asked. I was still winded but tried not to show it. Still thinking about the emblem, but unsure if I should share that with Beau.
    “In that building.” He motioned towards Parks. “Didn’t you say you checked that place?”
    “Once,” I said. Apparently some Zs had found their way in since my last visit. “Where exactly was he?”
    “In a room by the utility closet, where I found this.” He raised the crowbar as proof. “It was close to the bookstore you told me about.”
    Unbelievable. There had been people in there the whole time. When I caused a ruckus getting supplies, they must’ve realized someone was around. If they’d made any noise to get my attention when I escaping, I didn’t hear it. My need to get out of dodge superseded anything else. To the average starving survivor, the idea of another average starving survivor to team up with was an appealing thought. Had he been trying to find us and was bit in the process? I voiced my idea to Beau, and he shook his head.
    “He wasn’t a zombie. I hit him,” he said. “When I opened the door, he was very much alive and acted like a bat out of hell. What was I supposed to do? Let him keep yelling?”
    My mouth dropped. Before I could comment, Beau continued. “I tried to reason with him, but when someone can’t be reasoned with an alternative choice has to be made right away. You know what that choice ends up being. I grabbed the crowbar and hit him in the head. He stopped screaming, but he dodged into a doorway and down some stairs to a library.”
    “Why didn’t you finish him off? You know what happens. The last thing anyone needs is a fresh runner attacking them.”
    He moved away from the window and back towards the stairs. “This happened hours ago. I’ve been looking for him ever since. I must’ve hit him too hard and he died and turned. Anyway, I’m still surprised he tried to attack me. I didn’t make any move to hurt him and yelled ‘I’m human!’ while he tried to beat on me.”
    I guess now was as a good