The Undead Situation Read Free

aisles, but they could be crawling or crouched too low for me to see. The whole place was the poster child of an apocalypse. Only a few items remained on the shelves. Rotting dairy products had turned green after falling from the refrigerators. There was a puddle of curdled green goop just beyond the doorway. I tried to breathe through my mouth and not acknowledge the stench.
    Without thinking twice, I jogged into the store, stepping carefully as to avoid the wet patches on the ground. I shrugged my pack off and unzipped it, keen on shoving in as many goodies as possible. The candy section was practically untouched, save for a lone arm rotting near Snickers bars.
    Glancing around, I pilfered Life Savers and listened intently for any zombies. A soft squeaking caught my attention as I stuffed Hostess cupcakes and Twinkies in the top of my backpack. As the squeaking grew louder, my pilfering sped up.
    A torso pulled its way along the floor. It was a woman, once, but I could only tell because of her chest. Her hair had come off in clumps, leaving behind a ragged, bloody skull. Her face had been scoured off, leaving nothing but tattered gore behind. White, foggy eyes bulged out of her skull. Intestines followed behind her, creating bloody trails on the checkered linoleum floor.
    I was quiet. Didn’t move a muscle. A slick pool of blood in front of her hindered her progress. Torso Woman ground her teeth in frustration and let out a loud, teetering groan as her arms thrashed about.
    Somewhere outside a chorus of replies sounded off, reverberating down the street and into the store. My position had been given away. In a world infested with undead, if there were two entrances, then there was only one exit. The one you came in by would be the one zombies filed in through. For me that meant no exits. My luck with the immobile Torso Woman would run out once other, more capable zombies saw me.
    After I zipped and secured the backpack, I approached the woman and killed her with one swift whack from my crowbar. I went to the entrance and took the risk of running straight out.
    The armless zombie was steps away from me. I darted past him, scanning the street as I went. Behind him another two followed. To my other side, multiple Zs were staggering out of storefronts, excited by Torso Woman’s call.
    My apartment was just a walk across the street. If I ran fast enough, I’d be able to shoot right by them without taking time to put them out of their misery. I took that option.
    Gnarled hands grabbed at me as I barreled through, wrenching the door open the moment I was close enough. There was no time to lock it since they were right behind me, salivating for my flesh. Adrenaline carried me up the stairs faster than a hunted rabbit.
    As I entered the hallway to my apartment, a zombie lunged from the side. My sidestep would’ve worked if there hadn’t been a sour patch of blood and other coagulated liquids resting on the maroon linoleum where my boot struck. Instead, I slipped and fell onto my back, the undead going right with me. His ridged hands clawed at me while he snapped his jaws at my exposed neck. Crowbar long forgotten, I reached into my holster for the 9mm while I held the pus laden beast away. With one burst of strength, I knocked him off and brought up the gun simultaneously, squeezing a bullet into his head. Grabbing the crowbar and holstering the handgun, I scrambled to my feet and rushed down the hallway. All the apartment doors I shut remained shut, except for mine which I had left open.
    How could I have done something that dimwitted? I wanted to take my time and check the rooms, but couldn’t risk the delay, so I walked straight in, slamming the door shut. After quickly locking the bolts and dropping the extra board into position, I stood still and listened, already questioning my decision to lock up so early. But I’d rather fight one or two Zs trapped inside than the horde coming from outside.
    No noises gave away an