Free Apex Predator by Glyn Gardner

held in front of him.  The store room and cooler were vacant.
    Tom found the switch for the gas pumps.  Mike began fueling the SUV.  He could see several zombies shambling in their general direction.  Shit!  Tom came out of the store with three cases of water.  He dumped them into the back of the Tahoe.
    “Hey Tom, you wanna throw some gas in that Charger?  We can carry more stuff if we have another trunk.”
    “Good idea.  I’ll see if the keys are in there somewhere.”  He trotted back inside.  A few minutes later, he came out with another load of water.  This time he went to the Japanese car, opening the trunk.  He deposited the water in the hatchback, and walked back towards the building.
    “Tom, grab a bat or something,” Mike whispered excitedly.  Tom saw about a half dozen zombies were closing on the two.  Mike reached into the trunk of the Tahoe and grabbed an aluminum softball bat.  Tom ran to Mike’s side holding an old tire iron.  The zombies were still shambling in their direction.  Mike didn’t think the monsters noticed them yet.
    WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP!
    They looked up.  A pair of military helicopters flew overhead towards the Air Force base.  The zombies also heard the helicopters.  They looked up, following the sound of the flying machines with their eyes.
    “Now, let’s take ‘um quietly,” ordered Tom.  He charged out from behind the Tahoe, followed by Mike.
    “Is that a helicopter?” called Jen from the door.  As soon as she did, she realized that she’d screwed up.  The group of zombies turned at the sound of her voice, a chorus of moans rose from their collective throats.
    Mike and Tom were caught in the proverbial no-man’s-land.  Both armed with only blunt objects, charging headlong towards a half dozen zombies.  Mike was quicker than Tom, plus he had the advantage of being a step or two farther from the zombies than Tom. 
    He slipped as he tried to stop, ending up on his butt.  But, he was able to un-holster his pistol quickly.  Tom was not so lucky.  He had left the shotgun in the convenience store.  He had no choice.  He swung the tire iron in a wide arch at head level.
    He connected with the neck of one zombie, driving it to the ground.  He hit another with a downward blow.  A dull-wet crunch told him this zombie too was finished.  Now the other zombies were close.  He heard the reports of Mike’s pistol.
    He jammed the end of his crowbar into the face of another.  This zombie also fell to the ground, taking the crowbar and Tom, with it.  He rolled to the left, using his foot to pull the crowbar out of the zombie’s skull. He continued to roll to the left, away from the zombies.
    Mike continued to take careful aim at the zombies surrounding his new friend.  He managed to shoot two of the creatures, afraid to shoot too close to Tom.
    The two remaining zombies clawed at Tom, one grasping his arm.  It felt like Tom’s arm was being squeezed in a vise.  He could feel the cold fingers dig into his skin.  He tried to crab crawl away from his remaining assailants.  He kicked at the hand squeezing his arm.  He kicked the zombie in the face.  He kicked again.
    Panic had long since set in.  He was frantic, kicking at anything that came close to his feet.  As he retreated on his butt, his hand found Mike’s softball bat.  He grabbed it with his right hand and swung down on the closest zombie.  He connected with its head, halting its assault.
    He heard Mike’s pistol fire once, twice, and finally a third time.  A heavy body fell on top of the still crab-walking Tom.  The weight knocked his arms out from underneath him.  He kicked franticly with his legs while trying to shove the zombie off of him with his arms.
    The zombie’s head was only inches from his neck.  He flung his left hand under the zombie’s chin.  As hard as he tried, he couldn’t force its head away from him.  He screamed in anticipation of the bite.  It never came.  He