everybody who thought all the zombies were busy surrounding our complex was dead wrong.
The day started with so much promise. It was sunny, and almost warm…in the upper 50s to low 60s. Everybody climbed up on the trailers just as planned. Tom, Al, Scott, Preston, and I stayed on the ground, even taking care to hide behind a couple of forklifts to make ourselves scarce.
The folks began making all kinds of noise. As hoped, those things got agitated. The moans and other gawdawful noises they make got really loud. The groups split and it actually caused the mob to tear apart. There were still stragglers, and some from the rear sorta rolled down the makeshift alley, but it thinned considerably as those things focused on following our people.
Somebody yelled, “Now or never!” and we made our move. Trying to be as efficient as possible, we had five ladders up side-by-side. The jump was the worst part. As soon as we hit the ground, that ten-foot-or-so alley began to close. Fortunately, we only had a few feet to go to be clear of the main mob. That only left the stragglers, and in seconds (each seeming like micro-eternities) we had reached the big, red four-by-four pick-up truck that Tom said we would use.
Tom, Preston, and I hopped in the cab while Al and Scott climbed in back. The engine turned over and we were gone. A decent cluster of those things came in pursuit, and for all I know could be down in that mob below that are pressing against and clawing at the side of this store. The crowd has tripled in the last hour. I would guess they are about twenty or thirty deep, heads upturned in a sea of grasping, clutching, claw-like hands, eyes all milky, giving an exaggerated emphasis on the black-blood filled capillaries. And the stench…
Anyways, we made it to the highway with no problems. Tom took us to an exit that led to an upscale development. He said that the neighborhood might be risky, but it would take us past the road block.
The neighborhood was a nightmare. Men, women, and children had lived in this high-priced piece of suburbia. Now there was only death. Death made more grotesque and unsettling as more of the zombies in that place were children than adult.
It was there that I saw…we all saw… something that will never allow itself to be erased from memory. A woman, or what had once been one, was standing in the front yard of a beautiful brick split-level home. Clutched in one arm was a wriggling form…like a giant grub. Except it had four twitching, flailing appendages. A thick black cable ran from the wriggling grub-thing to the crotch of the woman-thing.
Still, those monsters were everywhere and there were many more visual horrors to see. They came stumbling out of houses, backyards, and from behind cars. That baby-cry sound we’d been hearing around the complex was audible on occasion, which makes me shudder to think of anybody that went to investigate.
Tom drove quick but careful. We dove down a couple of side streets and even backtracked a time or two. He said that was to keep the zombies as confused as possible. They seem to track something well it if moves in a straight line. Before too long, we were on a two-lane road headed north to Highway 26.
The drive to North Plains was pretty smooth until about a mile or so out. Then the stragglers became groups, which grew to packs, which bloomed into mobs. We had no choice but to park the truck. It fit in with the many and various other cars all over both sides of 26.
Tom pulled over at an overpass. There were so many of those things coming down the off-ramp he decided it best to stop at a location we could backtrack to and find with minimal trouble. Already Al and Scott were having to bring their bats into play as a couple of those things were at the truck before Tom shut off the engine.
The three of us bailed out leaving those radios sitting useless on the seat. For the next few seconds it was hectic. Tom told Al and Scott to start shooting since we
The day started with so much promise. It was sunny, and almost warm…in the upper 50s to low 60s. Everybody climbed up on the trailers just as planned. Tom, Al, Scott, Preston, and I stayed on the ground, even taking care to hide behind a couple of forklifts to make ourselves scarce.
The folks began making all kinds of noise. As hoped, those things got agitated. The moans and other gawdawful noises they make got really loud. The groups split and it actually caused the mob to tear apart. There were still stragglers, and some from the rear sorta rolled down the makeshift alley, but it thinned considerably as those things focused on following our people.
Somebody yelled, “Now or never!” and we made our move. Trying to be as efficient as possible, we had five ladders up side-by-side. The jump was the worst part. As soon as we hit the ground, that ten-foot-or-so alley began to close. Fortunately, we only had a few feet to go to be clear of the main mob. That only left the stragglers, and in seconds (each seeming like micro-eternities) we had reached the big, red four-by-four pick-up truck that Tom said we would use.
Tom, Preston, and I hopped in the cab while Al and Scott climbed in back. The engine turned over and we were gone. A decent cluster of those things came in pursuit, and for all I know could be down in that mob below that are pressing against and clawing at the side of this store. The crowd has tripled in the last hour. I would guess they are about twenty or thirty deep, heads upturned in a sea of grasping, clutching, claw-like hands, eyes all milky, giving an exaggerated emphasis on the black-blood filled capillaries. And the stench…
Anyways, we made it to the highway with no problems. Tom took us to an exit that led to an upscale development. He said that the neighborhood might be risky, but it would take us past the road block.
The neighborhood was a nightmare. Men, women, and children had lived in this high-priced piece of suburbia. Now there was only death. Death made more grotesque and unsettling as more of the zombies in that place were children than adult.
It was there that I saw…we all saw… something that will never allow itself to be erased from memory. A woman, or what had once been one, was standing in the front yard of a beautiful brick split-level home. Clutched in one arm was a wriggling form…like a giant grub. Except it had four twitching, flailing appendages. A thick black cable ran from the wriggling grub-thing to the crotch of the woman-thing.
Still, those monsters were everywhere and there were many more visual horrors to see. They came stumbling out of houses, backyards, and from behind cars. That baby-cry sound we’d been hearing around the complex was audible on occasion, which makes me shudder to think of anybody that went to investigate.
Tom drove quick but careful. We dove down a couple of side streets and even backtracked a time or two. He said that was to keep the zombies as confused as possible. They seem to track something well it if moves in a straight line. Before too long, we were on a two-lane road headed north to Highway 26.
The drive to North Plains was pretty smooth until about a mile or so out. Then the stragglers became groups, which grew to packs, which bloomed into mobs. We had no choice but to park the truck. It fit in with the many and various other cars all over both sides of 26.
Tom pulled over at an overpass. There were so many of those things coming down the off-ramp he decided it best to stop at a location we could backtrack to and find with minimal trouble. Already Al and Scott were having to bring their bats into play as a couple of those things were at the truck before Tom shut off the engine.
The three of us bailed out leaving those radios sitting useless on the seat. For the next few seconds it was hectic. Tom told Al and Scott to start shooting since we
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