Damn, Zombies

A Story by SquarePi

Introduction to a story I am working on about zombies.

Prologue

The street was crowded with ruin and debris. Cars burned and trash flew wildly out of control. It was a scene from a war movie. The dark rain clouds did little to squelch the flames of the burning junk heaps. It seemed as though the city had been abandoned for years, leaving only the memories of a once thriving metropolis.

Dirt stained billboards looked down upon the destruction, with the vacant windows of the buildings blindly holding watch over the city. Streetlights blinked and fluttered as they desperately kept a responsibility to order in the mist of chaos. It was a dead city now, no living thing walked the streets.

As daylight began to wane and the moans and cries from the undead rose and echoed throughout the alleys and streets one man ran for his life. His name was Jack, former truck driver and self-proclaimed zombie hunter. He had come prepared but not well enough it would seem. He had run out of shotgun shells and his machete was becoming dull. For two blocks he had fought them, cutting through them like tall weeds in his path. Now, low on ammo and tired, he ran until he thought he could run no more.

He made it to an intersection seemingly blocked by a large overturned bus and several smaller compact cars piled around it. He stopped and turned back from where he had come. Through the dense fog that settled down upon the streets, movement could be seen. He waited and focused on the dark figures behind the misty veil. Suddenly, a slight breeze from the east moved the fog like a dance partner revealing an audience of living dead.

There must have been thousands, all slowly making their way in the direction of the only food they had smelt in weeks. Their pale skin hung from their bones like loose clothing and the stench of their rotting insides made it hard to breath. Dead eyes caught sight of the man and an energy ran through the mass of corpses. Unintelligent moans and grunts came from the crowd as their meal came into view.

It looked to the man that he was trapped. Caught between five tons of burning steel and thousands of monsters ready to eat him alive. He knew he could not fight them all, so he had to do something drastic. He considered, and found that he was fresh out of ideas. He was tired. Too tired to think. He imagined that maybe this was the end. These things ruled the world now.

They were closing in on him. No more than fifty yards now. He had to think of something and fast. He looked around frantically, they were close enough now he could almost taste their stench. Desperately he searched around him. Something would save him. He noticed how unorganized they were, mindlessly stomping over each other to get at him. He thought maybe he could funnel them into an alley and make a stand. It was better than nothing.

The end was blocked by a large green dumpster. A fire escape hung from the side of the building much to high for him to reach however. He turned, frightened. At the entrance three of the things squeezed together forcing themselves in the tight corridor. They had slowed down considerably, he had bought some time.

He looked around at the tall buildings on either side of him, and figured that perhaps this was not the best course of action.

“Son of a b***h.” He cursed. He had trapped himself rather thoroughly. He sighed heavily and slumped hard against the dumpster. Only ten yards in front of him several hungry living corpses advanced on him. He rubbed his eyes, frustrated and weak, and prepared himself for his impending doom. “This is gonna suck.”