Free This Rotten World (Book 2): We All Fall Down by The Vocabulariast

roared overhead. Rudy looked up and watched it
fly through the air. The sound of a minigun firing hit his ears.
"Yeah!" he yelled. "Kick some ass!"
    His voice echoed through the
Park Blocks as the helicopter moved out of sight behind some tall buildings.
Rudy wheezed and pulled his asthma inhaler from his pocket. He put it to his
lips and pressed down on the canister, but nothing happened. He pressed it down
one more time, but again, nothing happened. Panic welled inside his chest.
    "It's not working," he
whined, his chest tightening with each breath.
    The creatures around them seemed
closer than ever. Amanda steadied him as his face turned red. Chloe looked at
Rudy with annoyance on her face.
    "Come on, there's a
Walgreen's a few blocks down," she said.
    Rudy walked with Amanda
supporting him as he struggled for breath. Fear danced around the edge of his
mind. He didn't want to be eaten. The thought ran through his head over and
over. The blocks, which were half the size of your average city block thanks to
the ingenious planning of the city's founders, seemed to go on for miles.
Rudy's throat was getting tighter and tighter, and he could barely walk.
    His vision became spotty, and at
one point Chloe walked back to him and snatched the sword from his hand. The
dead were gaining ground on them. Their pace was no longer quick enough to
avoid them.
    "Hurry up or I'm going to
leave your ass," Chloe spat.
    Amanda whispered into his ear,
her breath hot and comforting, "I really hate that, bitch."
    Rudy didn't have the breath to
respond. He focused on Chloe's backside, following it as the vision around the
edge of his eyes darkened and spots swam in front of him. He watched, gasping
for air, as Chloe swung the blade at a limping man, his stomach torn apart and
guts trailing between his legs. His head rolled off, and the body slumped to
the ground.
    Amanda and Rudy had to skirt around
it, as Rudy no longer had the strength to lift his legs more than an inch or two
off the ground. Then they were there, in front of a plain storefront, plastered
in the white and red logo of Walgreen's. Rudy focused on the swooping script.
The glass to the front of the store was already busted, and they shuffled
inside, well aware that they had gathered a crowd of followers.
    Chloe ran through the store,
jumping over displays that had been knocked to the ground. Rudy and Amanda followed
at a slower pace, losing sight of Chloe's bobbing platinum hair. They heard
Chloe banging on something, and then there was a gunshot, followed quickly by
another gunshot.
    "Oh shit," Amanda
said. Rudy would have agreed with her if he could speak, but his face was red
and it felt like a sumo wrestler was sitting on his chest, preventing him from
grabbing a full breath. Even sliding his feet along was too much for him. They
heard the broken glass being crunched and kicked by shambling feet behind them.
Rudy forced his body to move, and they emerged into the back of the store where
the pharmacy was.
    Chloe was behind the counter,
rummaging around, picking up boxes, reading them, and tossing them on the
ground. "I can't find it. What am I looking for?"
    "Ass..." he gasped,
unable to form the words. "Asthalin." Rudy collapsed onto the ground
behind the busted door of the pharmacy. Amanda stepped over his body and began
searching the pharmacy shelves, looking for something that said Asthalin. Chloe
shoved the door closed and sat Rudy against the door.
    "Don't let anyone in,"
she said, a serious look on her face.
    From his spot on the floor, Rudy
could see through the wire meshed windows of the pharmacy's counter. Underneath
the noise created by Chloe and Amanda's discarding of boxes, he could hear
their moans and their shuffling footsteps as they got closer. Even if they
managed to find his medication, they would be trapped in the pharmacy. He had
likely gotten everyone killed. They could have easily left him behind. He
wouldn't have blamed them. He was dead weight. Worse, he