Free The Long Way To Reno by Michelle Mix Page A

chain. I could just run past them and go outside
but…but something inside of me made me stop for them. Maybe it was the way they
screamed at me – giving me direction. I don’t know.
     
    The
Rabid was coming closer, and I had to think of what to do. I wanted that gun.
     
    Suddenly
I wasn’t scared. Suddenly I was inspired – I played enough zombie
survival games to know what to do – I just had to apply it all to this
life now. I needed that thing’s gun – he wasn’t going to need it anymore,
and thanks to Dad, I knew what to do with it.
     
    Gulping
air, I thought desperately. I did my awkward slide on the floor, and in doing
so, effectively tripped up the sprinting Rabid. He somersaulted over me, hit
the concrete floor with a splatter of grunting noise. The women screamed at me
to kill it and help them. I was struggling to breathe, to think of what to do
to kill it. I didn’t know how to. It wiggled and turned, snarling
incoherent things that may have been words, and it looked at the women that
were just barely visible within the small space they’d managed to create with
pulling at the door.
     
    My
mind went blank. I looked at the Rabid, then at them. Despite my earlier
bravado, I just didn’t know what to do when it came to actually killing the
thing. My knife wasn’t going to do shit – my Fubar -!
     
    I remembered my Fubar. I jerked it from my belt loop, breathed several
times in this panicky fashion, then worked up enough nerve to charge. It looked
away from the women to look at me with those red/black eyes, snarling something
that could have been curse words or words of discovery. When it charged at me,
I drew my arm back in a wide swing and connected with the thing’s face. It only
knocked it off course. The heaviness of the tool and my own awkward momentum
sent me spinning, and I lost my balance, landing hard on my knees. I’d
connected, though, the thing’s face shifted to one side. It was so gross, I was absolutely disgusted. I retched as I rose, struggling to regain
strength to hit it again.
     
    I
missed horribly, but it stumbled. I brought the Fubar down on the back of its
head, and it hit the concrete floor with a splatter of congealed blood and
gore. I screamed as I brought my Fubar up and slammed the wrench side down
against the back of its skull. It was so disgusting how easy this
demolition tool shattered human bone and brain to make this really slippery,
cracking sound.
     
    I
retched again, tried to barf – but it was only the water I’d drank
earlier that I let loose. It mixed with the gore splattered on the floor. My
head was buzzing, my face was hot, and I was thisclose to passing out
from the extreme grossness of it all. Until the ladies screaming at me caught
my attention. Dizzily, I returned my attention to them, stumbled to them as I
dragged my Fubar with me. My hair was a huge mess, I had watery vomit all over
my face, probably snot dangling from my nose – I was not an awesome
heroine. I would be self-conscious about it later.
     
    I
realized I’d killed the zombie – it was motionless on the floor. And I
had more than enough time to help the ladies that were screaming at me to hurry
up. I used the pry side of my Fubar between the latch of the door and the chain
that was hooked to a hastily drilled ‘eye’ that kept the chain in place. I told
them to push the door while I used all my strength to pull the Fubar downwards,
metal protesting as the ‘eye’ started to budge. Once they realized I was
actually doing something, they all got into pushing at the door, grunting and
straining as I was.
     
    I
heard shouts from the other end of the warehouse, and looked over to see a
couple of guys booking it towards us. They were bloodstained and furious
looking. The ‘eye’ stopped moving, and my pry bar slipped. I stumbled as I lost
my balance, and then jammed the bar back into the space I’d created between
door and metal and tried again. They were able to open the door