Free Chaos Theory: A Zombie Novel by Rich Restucci Page B

see anything, not even the falling snow.
    The pounding and moaning continued, echoing back and forth through that metal tomb. One of them had found the door and had begun to whack at it. Kat racked the bolt on the M4 and then looked at me funny. “I’m from New Hampshire. I know when the gun is empty.” The little square window in the door gave way, and a lacerated arm clad in flannel poked through.
    My machete was brandished in my good hand and I pointed to a full magazine on the desk. She dropped the old mag, grabbed the fresh one, popped it in, and charged a round. I walked to the door and waited with the machete. Ship didn’t want any unnecessary shots fired, as they would draw more dead to our little sanctuary. The reaching arm was pissing me off, so I hacked at it a couple times and it fell to the floor. The thing that the arm belonged to stuck its face in the window and growled. I was horrified and overcome with sadness at the same time. The dead thing was Ernie. I spun, thinking that this was no time to be sad, and saw the kid with the rifle. The weapon was pointed at me, center mass.
    I lifted my machete bearing appendage toward the sky. The other arm was tied to me with the sling. The gun looked damn big when I was on this side of it.
    “I could shoot you now. Just let me go,” she said between Ernie’s growls.
    “Kid, you can leave at any time, but you’re better off with us, and I’ll make you shoot me before I let you leave me without my gun. Again. I mean shoot me again, you already shot me once.”
    She brought the rifle to her shoulder and looked down the sight. I lowered my machete, putting one hand on my hip. I could hear Ernie and a couple of his new buddies scratching at the door. One of them had grabbed the window frame and was either pushing or pulling, I couldn’t tell.
    “They’re in here with us in thirty seconds, if you’re going to shoot me, get on with it.” I turned around, waiting for the shot that would kill me, or further incapacitate me so that the dead could kill me. When it didn’t come, I hacked at whatever was sticking through the window. Digits and pieces of arm fell on both sides of the weakening door. I heard steps behind me, and all of a sudden she was there with a spade shovel. She used it well, pushing one of them back from the door, using the tool like a spear.
    I knew they were going to get in, so I used a poking motion and went for the eyes of the one closest to the door, apparently Ernie had been shoved aside. I got one eye before one of them grabbed the machete with both hands. A normal human would have let go when the brush-clearer bit into their palms, but this thing didn’t care, and it had two arms to my one. I had to let go of the machete, or I would have been dragged through the window.
    Kat stabbed the one-eyed critter in the other eye, the orb going with a squish, and we had ourselves our first blind zombie. I drew the Glock and took a step back. “Can you shoot?”
    She looked at me dumbfounded. “New Hamp shire!”
    “Then back up and get the rifle, this door is done.”
    She dropped the shovel and ran for the rifle. Ernie was back, his face a mess, and he was reaching for me with his remaining arm. I don’t think he was inviting me to tea. The door was almost down, and I cocked the hammer on the Glock and pointed at his nose, but suddenly there was something sticking out of it. It was a machete blade, and it was withdrawn as quickly as I had seen it. Ernie collapsed, lifeless. Well, more lifeless, and another dead guy went down with a split cranium. The crowd at the door turned around to see what was going on, and they were cut down one by one.
    The door fell to the ground and Ship stood there, covered in gore. He was surprised to see Kat pointing an assault rifle at him, but remembered it was unloaded, and the surprise was replaced with a mild disgust directed at me.
    Ship’s surprise was reignited when Kat raised the rifle and fired.
    A zombie