Alright everyone, sorry about the length of time inbetween this post and my last. I've been busy working out the job situation and I'm pleased to announce I am currently employed again; woo for not starving! Alright folks, as a token of my deepest appologies I'll give you a bit more of the story then I usually do in one post...enjoy!
“Seriously, fuck my life,” I froze, waiting for my eyes to adjust, hoping that those bastards couldn’t see any better in the dark than I could. As my pupils widened I realized that there were moon windows and a faint stream of moonshine was flowing into the building. I literally tip-toed to the water, and quietly began to fit as much water as I could into the bag. I kept glancing around; there was no blood over there too meaning my theory of what happened was more than likely right. The light from the moon was reflecting off the polished linoleum, and it freaked me the hell out. I saw it out of the corner of my eye, something shifted, “fuck fuck fuck,” I grabbed the shotgun and placed it in front of me as I finished loading the water. The bag was impossibly heavy now and I was leaning over just trying to carry it and shoulder the weight. Something else moved across the aisles, I knew it had to be one of them, but what the hell were they doing? I started to panic and forgot about my original escape route and just started heading down the main aisle to the exit instead of circling around. I realized my mistake as I arrived at the row of registers and began to head for the exit. I heard something fall; I realized later that they must have knocked over some cans of food as they tried to all come at me at once. I grabbed the gun out of the bag and put it underneath my right arm and began to walk backwards dragging the bag in front of me, big mistake. It jumped onto my back snapping at my head, digging its fingernails into my arms. You see, I couldn’t smell them then; they had just turned and hadn’t begun to rot. I felt the sticky mess of blood on its hands as it continued to latch on to me, trying to bite me. It swung its feet around my waist and I felt its muscles working as it dug its heels into my body. The gun was still underneath my arm, the zombies grip on me held it tight. I tried reaching for it but I could only move my forearms while at the same time constantly whipping my head around avoiding its foul breath and bloody teeth. I used my right forearm and kept slapping the barrel of the gun, slapping it down trying to angle it so I could pull it out from my forearm. There was a wall close so I started backing up as it continued to thrash, I knew it was close so I launched my body backwards towards the wall slamming it and myself into the wall. The impact caused it to loosen its grip while it tried to move around and take a bite. I grabbed the gun and felt the quickly-becoming-familiar feel of the trigger against my index finger. I angled the barrel against my shoulder and fired. The sound was deafening and my hearing disappeared as the shell hit the zombie in the shoulder and throat. It lost its grip and I staggered up, never letting go of the gun. I pumped it and fired again, this time its head opened up like a deep red firework against the night sky. Its body convulsed for a second then ceased and lay there, dying for the second time that day. I quickly pulled out four shells from my pocket and reloaded, pumping the gun hoping I didn’t need it. I grabbed the bag and started to try and run and drag it at the same time; the blood on the ground helped it slide along. The lights came back on, and then I saw them, three of them coming towards me, trying to run but lack of balance made it look as if they were jogging with stiff knees. None-the-less they were fast and I only managed to get a round off that hit one in the right shoulder ripping its arm off, but it kept coming. Before I could get another round off the fastest one lunged at me and I lunged to the left. I slammed the same elbow, my left elbow, on the ground I had earlier and screamed out in pain. All three moaned back as the other two caught up and turned to lunge. I pulled the gun up, pumped, aimed, and destroyed the entire skull of one of them, its knees collapsed and its body feel with a soft thud, cold juices leaked out of its throat. I figured I had fractured my elbow, I could barely move my left arm and when I did pain shot up form my elbow to the shoulder. The other two, oblivious to their counterpart continued to come forward, silent and not breathing, each foot step pounding on the ground like my heart in my chest. My body was covered in blood and I tried to crawl away until I ran into the greeting calf. They were almost on top of me now, they both lunged and I kicked one in the face. As my shoe made contact it continued to try and bite me, ripping a chunk of plastic out of the sole. The other landed on my leg and began clawing at my calf, trying to get to the meat. I brought the barrel down on its head, but the thing didn’t even notice. So I brought the end of it to its skull, wondering if it felt the heat of the barrel against its cold flesh. I pulled the trigger and the skull looked as if it had imploded as the hot metal pushed the bone into the neck. Its cold bodily juices leaked onto my legs and into my shoes. The third one was still biting at my shoe, and had begun to move towards my ankle. I kicked it again and again, and it held fast biting and scratching. I pumped the gun, and brought the barrel closer to the back of its skull trying to avoid shooting down and into my foot. I pulled the trigger and the shell ripped the back of its skull off, brain exposed but no blood came out. The thing continued to try and bite for a few more seconds, until the exposure to air destroyed the brain and it ceased to exist, for the second, the final (hopefully) time. I propped myself up on my right arm, trying not to pass out from the pain and from the smell of hot metal cooking flesh and boiling bodily fluids. I quickly realized I was out of shells and reloaded, four more in, and another pump. I got up, as fast as I could and grabbed the bag, it was time to leave.