Free Heartland Junk (Part II): Sanctuary by Eli Nixon Page B

forward, didn't want to look back, couldn't look back. They must be in the woods by now, chasing me, coming up on my back, reaching...
                  After an eternity of darkness, I launched out of the woods and the ground disappeared beneath me. I rolled down the slope, cracking bones against stone, brambles tearing at my skin, until I reached the bottom of the gully. The road was just ahead, just up the hill. I could hear the low rumble of the Jeep's engine. Mud sucked at my shoes, pulling me down, slick fingers clutching, holding me back. They must be behind me now, coming down the hill. Hundreds, no way to fight them off.
                  One step. A schlurrp as my shoe cleared the shin-deep mudhole. Another step. Stuck tight. I jerked and my foot slipped free, leaving the shoe in the mud. Too slow. I craned my neck to see behind me. Pink fireflies flickered along the tree line at the top of the gully.
                  Fuckingshitholyfuckjesussaveme.
                  Walking was fucked; I lurched forward and pulled myself up the slope with my hands, using the scraggly underbrush for purchase. As the ground rose, the mud solidified. I scrambled higher. A thin rootball unearthed under my weight, spraying dirt and pebbles. I fell back at the sudden release, slipping farther down the hill. The fireflies had bodies now. They slid down the bank behind me. I heard them more than saw them. Heard the skitter of loose stone, the plop of pebbles hitting mud. Heard a sucking foot pull out of the mud.
                  Thorns tore into my palms and socked foot, but I surged forward with new energy, ignoring the pricks and scrapes. Halfway up, a phlegmy rattle rose from beneath me. They were climbing. Catching up. Ruthless, intelligent . We'd been so wrong, so fucking dumb. We were no match for this new breed.
                  A new thought struck through my fear: What if there were more at the house? I grit my teeth and surged up the hill, fuck the pain, fuck the loose, treacherous footing. I had to get Jennie out of there. I reached the flat surface and rolled onto the hard road, not even stopping to catch my breath. Pink pricks filled the darkness of the town on my left, materialized on the dark street to my right. There were more. God damnit.
                  I ripped open the Jeep's door and leaped inside, slamming it into gear even as my ass settled into the seat. Squealing rubber rent the night and the Jeep lunged away. I held the wheel steady, straight down the center of the road. Let them come. Line them up. I'd run them into the fucking ground.
                  But they didn't. Christ, they didn't. Like the biblical Red Sea parting before Moses, the things slid away from the path of the Jeep. The fuckers stepped aside to let me pass. Jesus, what were they? They turned to follow me as I went by, watching. I was floating through a sea of pink jellyfish, orbs bobbing all around, and I realized the headlights were off.
                  I flicked the switch, then wished I hadn't. The Red Fucking Sea. Illuminated by the twin beams of yellow, I could see the zombies lining the sides of the road like spectators at a parade. Farther ahead down River, they crowded the asphalt, spanning the road, yet they were always out of the way before the Jeep's grill reached them. Behind me, the pink waters rushed in to claim the road again.
                  "What the fuck are you things?" I yelled at them.
                  I didn't expect an answer, but it came regardless. The word was in my head, inside me, roaring and whispering into every niche of my psyche.
                  VITALA.
                  The Jeep lurched to the edge of the road before I regained control. Silent lightning streaked through the dark sky, but this time I knew it wasn't real. The darkness beyond the Jeep's windows seemed to seep