Undead L.A. 2 by Devan Sagliani Page B

out a clear path to his girlfriend’s street. He slipped over the other side of the fence and into the neighbor’s yard, where the dead body of a grown man floated face down in the pool. His head had been smashed open and hollowed out. The water was a murky shade of black and dark red, the color of coagulated blood.
    “Guess we're not the only ones to fight back,” Tyler said as he nervously made his way around the edge of the pool, past the Jacuzzi, and towards the next yard. Slowly, he made his way through several manicured yards, ducking past windows when he could, just in case his presence might lure out more biters.
    When he got to the end of the block, he ran into his first real problem. The fence that bordered the street had been knocked down. He didn't notice it until he was already slipping into the yard from the other side. Nearly a dozen adult sized demons rounded the corner on Tyler, forcing him to rush to the sliding glass door, and lock himself in the living room of a stranger’s house. Within seconds, dozens more undead men, women, and children, had flooded into the backyard, and began pounding on the glass. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, before he even heard the growl behind him.
    Oh shit, Tyler thought in panic, why didn't I bother to make sure the house was empty?
    Slowly he turned to face the music. Standing between him and the front door were the corpses of a heavy-set man and his twin daughters. The guy was wearing an expensive designer brand jogging suit, while both the girls wore matching Sunday school dresses with creepy bows in their hair. Dark blood drooled out from the blistered lips of the man as he growled at Tyler. The skin on his forearms was torn apart, like he'd been attacked by a pack of wild dogs while taking a jog. Tyler guessed he'd brought it home with him before infecting his girls. A bite sized wound on the side of one of the girl’s heads seemed to lend credibility to the theory as well.
    Tyler was frozen in complete fear and shock.
    Why don't they charge me? What are they waiting for?
    A quick glance at the family portrait on the wall confirmed that the big guy was Emily's neighbor, Mr. Hendrix, who lived over and across the street from her place.
    Great, Tyler thought. All I have to do is make it out of here alive, then across the street to Em's. Piece of cake.
    The sinking feeling in his stomach grew as Mr. Hendrix stumbled towards him. Tyler frantically scanned the room, looking for anything to use as a weapon. He thought of trying to lift the flat screen TV off the wall and throw it at them, but there didn't seem to be enough time to unplug all the wires—plus he wasn't sure he could actually lift it. The same with the bulky potted plants near the sofa.
    Hurry up, man! You're running out of time. They're almost here!
    A loud roar, and the sound of fists pounding hard on the glass sliding door behind him, shook him out of his inertia. Tyler’s adrenaline kicked into high gear, and he reacted without thinking. He dashed to the large floor lamp, picked it up, and jabbed it into Mr. Hendrix's face. The plug yanked free from the socket, giving him more freedom to swing the thing around. The soft glass of the bulb made a loud pop as it exploded into the man's sallow skin, cutting a fresh gash that bled a grisly mixture of seething pus and crimson tears.
    The impact didn't slow Mr. Hendrix. It was as if he didn’t feel it at all. The jagged shards of glass still connected to the base of the bulb had become anchored into his skull. His incessant lunging had locked them in like Crazy Glue, trapping him at the end of the metal rod. Tyler had some breathing room, but not much and not for long. Mr. Hendrix roared with frustration as he clawed at the air, trying to close the gap between Tyler and his snapping jaws. Tyler shoved him back like an animal trainer working with an unruly lion, and knocked over the glass coffee table in the process. One side