Free Undead Fleshcrave: The Zombie Trigger by Jim Goforth

wise choice, but it also meant they’d be angling back out in front of the venue.          
    There was more than a slim possibility that security had split into two separate factions with one group heading out the front doors to cut off any escape via this alley. So blundering into the dark through the cluster of shadows crowding the alley loomed as a larger chance of bona fide escape.          
    Seth wasn't overjoyed about that prospect.          
    On any other evening following a gig at this venue, or merely after just having a couple of drinks here with the guys, he would have had no qualms about cutting through the alley, down past the back of the bar, and out, if their destination called for that avenue of travel, but that was before.          
    Before one terrifying, stomach-churning, evil-laden song filled with nausea inducing bizarre instrumentation and a mantra of brain-mangling lyrics mutated ordinary death metal fans into voracious flesh-desiring undead.          
    Before the security that should have been vigilantly policing the event instead let it all unfold in a vortex of bloodsplattering horror, acting as disciples of the unholy band responsible for this cataclysm and chased survivors, intent on ensuring there was no escape for them.          
    Before Lincoln had his dick bitten off and his guts ripped out by a bloated hungry zombie bitch in a most appropriate 'Waking the Cadaver' top.          
    Before the big strong man of their gang, Buck, his sister Adrianna, and Callie went AWOL amidst the sea of carnage.          
    Now absolutely everything and everywhere was malevolent, sinister, and buzzing with potential menace.          
    And everyone too...          
    As the lot of them spilled into the alley, some looking to go left in the obvious direction, others gazing into the murk of the alley the other way, Dax lurched on down into the shadows.          
    The quartet of women headed up to halt the progress of Mark and Miranda, both of whom had instantly assumed racing out into the light on the street in front of the bar was the option.          
    Dax had already made the move Black and his cronies were intending them all to make, but as he did, one of the lumpy shapes against the giant building complex neighbouring the bar suddenly broke from its companion shadows.          
    A hunched and dishevelled figure staggered into his path and outstretched hands reached.          
    On instinct, a panicked yell was ripped from the throat of Dax and he struck out with a vengeance, hammering with his spiked armbands, punching their wicked points at the lurching perceived aggressor.          
    A high-pitched squeal unlike the guttural throaty sounds the bestial undead freaks made in the performance room of death issued, but in his fright and surging adrenalin-fuelled hysteria Dax didn't make that distinction.          
    All he saw was a shambling zombie monster emerging from a thick patch of darkness with murderous designs on gnawing off his genitals, dining on his brains, scooping out his entrails with hooked claw fingers, and he attacked with a furious energy.          
    He pounded frenetically with his makeshift weapons as blood rained in the air, battering at the would-be assailant until it fell to the ground amidst strewn rubbish.          
    Even then he continued to rain blows down, stabbing with his spikes, punching with clenched fists and kicking with his steel-capped boots.          
    Horrified, Julietta cut loose with a thin scream combining a warning and disbelieving horror at the same time.          
    "No! Dax, no! Stop! No, it isn't one of them!"          
    With her panic-stricken shriek resounding in his ears, Seth too realised the extent of Dax's folly, but it was too late to still the man’s