Free The Lost Gods by Horace Brickley Page A

broke the reanimate's grip.
    “Gah!” he yelled, “Get the fuck off me.”
    He ran into the fray. A reanimate wearing a hospital gown neared Jesse. Before it could reach Jesse, Adam brought his machete down hard on the creature’s back. The blade of the machete stuck in the thick bone of its stitched up spine. The creature fell forward.
    “Shit,” Adam said as he fell along with thing. They smashed into the dirt. The reanimate twisted toward Adam. It dug its long, yellow nails into his chest. They tore through the shirt and cut into his jutting collarbones.
    Adam screamed as the nails pierced his skin. He grabbed onto its hands. Adam head -butted the creature as hard as he could manage. The creature’s skull collapsed. A sharp, high-pitched sound rang in Adam's ears and all went black. He slumped forward
    …
    Jesse continued his assault, oblivious to anything other than the reanimates closest to him. He flung the creatures around like grotesque dolls.
    …
    Adam snapped back into consciousness a moment later. He climbed onto weak legs. Ahead of him was a blurry mass of creatures. He was concussed and nauseated, but his instincts kicked in as the creatures approached him. Panic cleared his vision enough for him to spot Jesse through the spaces between the churning thralls. He clambered toward Jesse on rubber legs. His footfalls caught the attention of a few reanimates. Dead eyes tracked him, as he neared the crowd. He reached for a gun and machete that were not there. The broken memories reformed and Adam recalled that he had discarded his empty pistol. The realization sent a jolt through him that dispelled the mental fog. He threw an empty spare magazine at the creature in front of him. It bounced off of its chest, and fell useless into the dirt.
    “Shit!” he yelled as he backpedaled. “Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! I'm fucked!”
    One of the things, built like an NFL linebacker, swiped at his face with a hand the size of roasted chicken. Adam ducked under the massive dead hand. He threw crazed punches and kicks at the giant like he was in a schoolyard brawl. The large creature was unfazed. It caught the sleeve of Adam’s jacket and yanked his arm toward its mouth, pulling Adam off balance. He squirmed to free his arm, but the creature was too strong. Adam jerked the zipper on his jacket downward, but it caught halfway. The creature drew him in closer. Adam could smell its graveyard cologne and putrid breath. He wormed his arm out of his jacket sleeve before the creature could jam his hand into its gaping maw. Another reanimate stumbled into Adam and brought him to the ground. The sleeve tore as they fell. The huge reanimate stuffed the torn jacket sleeve into its mouth and bit down on the fabric.
    Adam hit the ground hard and lost his breath. The large creature opened its jaws and let Adam’s torn sleeve fall to the grou nd. Cold, awful stink filled Adam’s nostrils. He turned and right next to his face was the open mouth of someone's long-dead ancestor. He slammed the palm of his hand into the side of its head. Its neck cranked sideways from the impact. It turned back and went for his neck. He pushed his hand against its forehead to stop it from ripping the soft tissue of his neck. It pushed hard against him. Adam shoved back, but he was not able to get the ancient corpse off of him. The muscles in his arm grew hot and quaked. He shoved again, as hard as he could, but the creature stayed on him. Adam dug into the soft ground with his feet and used his legs to get more leverage. The creature reeled back enough for Adam to scramble to his feet. He raised his boot and stomped at the old thing's skull. He missed the creature’s head and his booted foot hit the ground. The forceful impact radiated pain from his foot all the way up to his knee. The fallen reanimate latched onto his boot and tried to bite him in the ankle.
    Adam fell backwards. He used his other foot to kick the creature in its mummified face. Before it