Free Byron : A Zombie Tale (Part 1) by Scott Wieczorek

brothers. His background in baseball, though short-lived in his college career, was a great benefit to him now. Though I couldn’t spend a lot of time watching him due to my own oncoming horde of creatures what I saw when I managed to sneak a peak was impressive. He was swinging like a madman and each one of his blows landed in the cranium of an undead. Similarly, each of my swings managed to crumple another beast.
    Within a few minutes we were able to take care of the dozen or so creatures that had congregated behind the ambulance attracted by the smell of John’s blood. As my tire iron landed into the skull of one last beast I heard a scream erupt from behind me. Instinctively, I turned and saw that Pam was leaping out of the ambulance behind us. Several of the creatures had entered the vehicle through the windshield and were now making their way toward us.
    John grasped Pam’s wrist and dragged her away, running at a full sprint toward a nearby building. I slammed the ambulance doors shut and started off after them. Luckily for me, despite his batting skills John wasn’t that fast of a runner. As I heard him huff and puff I guessed that too many years planted on a barstool in front of a baseball game, cigarette in hand, had taken its toll on his stamina.
    I ran up beside them both and kept pace. “So, where to?” I asked without so much as losing a breath. Though, it occurred to me that I wasn’t even feeling fatigued or winded. In fact, if I wasn’t mistaken I hadn’t even taken a breath since I had last spoken.
    Several quick turns brought us to a very familiar place. We were just outside of John’s apartment building. From inside his pants he pulled a set of keys, slipped them quickly into the lock and ushered us inside. “Don’t stop,” he told us, “Byron – you know the way.”
    I grabbed Pam’s hand and bolted for the stairwell. Up two flights of stair s we ran, winding our way upward past all manner of door blocked with barricades. One barricade, in fact, had a sign decrying it quarantined by order of the Township Office of Emergency Management. At the door to John’s floor I pushed my way through the doorway into the hallway beyond. Many of the doors along the hallway were similarly barricaded with quarantine signs. However, the two doors past John’s apartment, I noticed, had been boarded over with multiple layers of plywood. It didn’t take long before we reached John’s door. I reached out, and turned the handle… LOCKED!
    “Dammit!” I shouted and kicked the door. Pam shoved me aside and started banging on the door, “Hello? Is anybody in there? Please! Let us in!”
    I heard a voice from the other side. It sounded familiar – weak and mousy with just a hint of nerdish twang. EVAN! It was Evan!
    “Evan,” I yelled, “let us in! It’s Byron and Pam, John’s right behind us!”
    I heard several locks clicking in their place before a crack finally opened in the doorway. My heart leaped with joy. But, instead of seeing the door open wide to let us pass I was surprised to see the business end of a shotgun stick out through the opening.
    I leaped out of the way as quickly as I could just as the firearm discharged. The force from the blast, striking the outside of my upper left arm, forced my body to twist around.
    “God Dammit, Evan! What the hell is wrong with you?!” As with the shots that Pam had taken at me earlier I felt no pain from the blast. But, was still affected by the force of it. I could hear another set of footsteps echoing quickly up the stairs. I whirled quickly, tire iron at the ready, just in case.
    “What the hell are you doing out here?” I heard John shout as he got to the top of the stairs. “The sons of bitches have breached the building and are right behind me.” As he burst through the door I could hear several more sets of footsteps on the iron staircase behind him. John slammed the door shut and wedged his crowbar into the opening, wedging it shut. With