annoyance at its failure.
A rapid succession of gunfire blasted through the morning
air. The booms echoed and bounced off the valley walls, sending her senses
whirling. The men outside shouted and cussed, but the zombie continued to stand
in the opening, unharmed and unaffected. It worked its angled body over the
edge of the wagon, one boney limb at a time. The shots were not directed at
this zombie, which meant there was more than one in the camp.
She rolled onto her side, grabbed her Colts, and sent two
bullets into its skull as its fleshless hand clamped down on her ankle. She
didn't have time to recover before a second walker appeared, pulled at the
canvas, and tore a portion of it from the frame. She fired two more bullets at
its head. The contents exploded over the interior of the wagon, splattering her
with bloody brain matter, undoing the effort of her bath the previous night. A
string of unladylike curses ran across her lips as she wiped the nastiness from
her face.
Red pushed one dead body aside and shoved the other onto the
ground, as she swung herself over the tail end and crouched between two wagons
to survey the situation. A dozen or more zombies maneuvered their rotted,
mangled bodies between the wagons or crawled beneath the wagon beds. Several
more lay dead, their heads shot clear through by Wen's and Cowboy's precise
bullets. The men held their own, firing rifles as quickly and accurately as
possible. Zombies fell, but more ambled into the camp to take their place.
Red slipped easily into the middle, firing her pistols, but
she needed her shotgun and more ammunition to continue the fight. She took down
two walkers as she moved toward her pile of supplies. She reached it just in
time to throw down her empty pistols and pick up her sawed-off shotgun. Aim.
Finger the trigger. Fire. Turn to the left. Repeat. In an instant, she took out
the ones that posed the greatest threat, the ones too close for her liking.
The zombies kept on coming, undeterred by their fallen
comrades. They clambered over one another and stepped on the dead as they
pushed their way between the wagons. Gunfire came from behind, and she hoped
Cowboy and Wen held their own. She had more than enough zombies to contend
with. When the shotgun clicked empty, she grabbed her rifle and kept on firing,
making each bullet count. She couldn't waste a single one.
Red lost track of how many bullets she'd fired, until the
dreaded click of an empty chamber. She knelt on the ground, with an eye on the
approaching mob, and slipped her hand inside one of her saddlebags in a frantic
search for more ammunition, but came up empty.
Damn it .
She searched the other saddlebag, and though the cool metal
cartridges graced her fingertips, she had to let them go. The zombies fell upon
her. Swinging the rifle above her head, she slammed the butt of the weapon into
the face of the closest walker, breaking its bloody jaw, but failing to hinder
its progress. She swung again and connected with its skull, which bust open and
sent the zombie sprawling to the ground at her feet. One down, but six more
ready to destroy her, each aiming for a limb, an organ, a bit of flesh, a chunk
of her existence.
"Reload." Wen yelled. The blade of his machete
sung through the air and sliced through the neck of the nearest zombie,
separating the head from its body. "Do it! Now!"
He beheaded two more as she grabbed a handful of bullets and
jammed them into the rifle, her hands shakier than normal. She cocked the gun
in one swift movement and fired just left of Wen, taking down the decomposed
walker.
"Jeez, watch it!" Wen eyed her as if she was
crazy.
To prove she was a better shot than both of the men, she
fired once more to the right of Wen, within inches of his shoulder, sending a
bullet into the zombie he planned to decapitate.
He whipped around. "Okay, I get it!"
No more time for games. She rolled onto her side and fired
more bullets as the band of walking dead crept nearer.
A rapid succession of gunfire blasted through the morning
air. The booms echoed and bounced off the valley walls, sending her senses
whirling. The men outside shouted and cussed, but the zombie continued to stand
in the opening, unharmed and unaffected. It worked its angled body over the
edge of the wagon, one boney limb at a time. The shots were not directed at
this zombie, which meant there was more than one in the camp.
She rolled onto her side, grabbed her Colts, and sent two
bullets into its skull as its fleshless hand clamped down on her ankle. She
didn't have time to recover before a second walker appeared, pulled at the
canvas, and tore a portion of it from the frame. She fired two more bullets at
its head. The contents exploded over the interior of the wagon, splattering her
with bloody brain matter, undoing the effort of her bath the previous night. A
string of unladylike curses ran across her lips as she wiped the nastiness from
her face.
Red pushed one dead body aside and shoved the other onto the
ground, as she swung herself over the tail end and crouched between two wagons
to survey the situation. A dozen or more zombies maneuvered their rotted,
mangled bodies between the wagons or crawled beneath the wagon beds. Several
more lay dead, their heads shot clear through by Wen's and Cowboy's precise
bullets. The men held their own, firing rifles as quickly and accurately as
possible. Zombies fell, but more ambled into the camp to take their place.
Red slipped easily into the middle, firing her pistols, but
she needed her shotgun and more ammunition to continue the fight. She took down
two walkers as she moved toward her pile of supplies. She reached it just in
time to throw down her empty pistols and pick up her sawed-off shotgun. Aim.
Finger the trigger. Fire. Turn to the left. Repeat. In an instant, she took out
the ones that posed the greatest threat, the ones too close for her liking.
The zombies kept on coming, undeterred by their fallen
comrades. They clambered over one another and stepped on the dead as they
pushed their way between the wagons. Gunfire came from behind, and she hoped
Cowboy and Wen held their own. She had more than enough zombies to contend
with. When the shotgun clicked empty, she grabbed her rifle and kept on firing,
making each bullet count. She couldn't waste a single one.
Red lost track of how many bullets she'd fired, until the
dreaded click of an empty chamber. She knelt on the ground, with an eye on the
approaching mob, and slipped her hand inside one of her saddlebags in a frantic
search for more ammunition, but came up empty.
Damn it .
She searched the other saddlebag, and though the cool metal
cartridges graced her fingertips, she had to let them go. The zombies fell upon
her. Swinging the rifle above her head, she slammed the butt of the weapon into
the face of the closest walker, breaking its bloody jaw, but failing to hinder
its progress. She swung again and connected with its skull, which bust open and
sent the zombie sprawling to the ground at her feet. One down, but six more
ready to destroy her, each aiming for a limb, an organ, a bit of flesh, a chunk
of her existence.
"Reload." Wen yelled. The blade of his machete
sung through the air and sliced through the neck of the nearest zombie,
separating the head from its body. "Do it! Now!"
He beheaded two more as she grabbed a handful of bullets and
jammed them into the rifle, her hands shakier than normal. She cocked the gun
in one swift movement and fired just left of Wen, taking down the decomposed
walker.
"Jeez, watch it!" Wen eyed her as if she was
crazy.
To prove she was a better shot than both of the men, she
fired once more to the right of Wen, within inches of his shoulder, sending a
bullet into the zombie he planned to decapitate.
He whipped around. "Okay, I get it!"
No more time for games. She rolled onto her side and fired
more bullets as the band of walking dead crept nearer.
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