You have to fight to survive...
James used to be their friend, but that was before the disease struck America. The lucky ones died from the infection; the less fortunate ones became zombies, and they craved for human flesh. Gerard, Frank, Mikey and Ray were the only ones left alive in Los Angeles. Lyn-Z was dead, they could only wonder about Bob Bryar in Chicago.
James growled a low, gutteral snarl, the sores on his bloodied skin weeping with yellow, foul smelling gunk. Gerard retched, puking on an empty stomach, he and the guys hadn't eaten in days, too afraid to venture onto the streets for fear of being torn open and their guts mashed into pieces as the zombies feasted upon them.
Gerard had seen them eat before, they tore through flesh, bone and cartilage as if it were soft ice cream.
"FOR CHRIST'S SAKE GERARD, KILL IT!!!!!"
Frank screamed, swinging his axe at another zombie, a female with swollen lips, matted hair and wild eyes that were crazed with bloodlust. Her head came into contact with the blunt metal and a sickening CRACK! rang through their ears. Frank tugged the blade out with a grunt and rounded on the next one.
James had got through the window, shards of glass cutting into his yellow stomach. He fell onto the floor and gurgled, blood and green goo oozing from his mouth, drooling onto the bloodstained carpet of the old high-school building they had been hiding in for the past two months. More of them started to file in behind James, groping with twisted figers and gnarled palms.
Frank suddenly cried out, one of the things biting his leg. He kicked it off effortlessly, flinging the snarling monster aside as he swung his axe again, cursing loudly.
Gerard looked at James' writhing figure and wondered if his manager, his friend, was still in there somewhere. He wasn't ready to take a life, even if it was to defend himself.
He started to tremble, his grip loosening on his weapon. Frank had fallen back a bit, the zombies backing off from him; they weren't going to take on someone as strong as Frank. They turned on Gerard, they knew he was the weakest of the two. They made toward him at that creepily fucked up pace which sent shivers down his spine. It was him against three, for Frank that would be a small work-out, but for Gerard taking on one was terrifying enough.
Tears of fustration and fear burned his eyes, not helpful. He grasped the nailboard tightly once more, berating himself for being a coward. He raised the board and aimed a blow at James. He couldn't do it,
"FOR FUCKS SAKE KILL HIM!!!" Frank bellowed.
"I can't!" Gerard wailed. "It's James, I can't kill a friend!"
"Look at him!! That's not James! James is gone, Gerard! All he wants is your flesh in his mouth!"
Gerard looked at James, Frank was right, this isn't James,. It's just a crazed monster with his face. He raised the nailboard once more,
Suddenly, James stopped, a confused look on his brow. Gerard frowned. Then James howled in agony, the glass from the broken window had cut deeper than he had previously thought.
James' stomach ripped open and a tangle of black, gray and purple guts slopped in a river of blood and pus. The zombies pushed Gerard from their minds and rounded on James, gurgling and slurping happily as they forced him down and stuck their hungry mouths inside the bloody mess. They chewed greedily, lapping up the blood and mashing guts between their sharp, mouldy, decaying teeth.
Gerard leaned forward and heaved, stomach acid burning up his throat making his eyes smart and he began to cry. Frank limped over and pulled his best friend up.
"Run!" he whispered urgently, he dragged Gerard to the hallway doors and exited swiftly. He slammed the door shut and fixed a metal pole between the handles. They ran down the corridor and up the flight of stairs to the boys dormitries, Frank lagging behind a little on his injured leg.
They slammed their fists into the door.
"Mikey! Ray! Open up goddamnit!!!!"
There was a scuffling sound behind them. Frank turned and screamed, fifteen or more zombies were shuffling round the corner and coming for them. Gerard panicked and battered the door even more so,
"OPEN THE DOOR!! LET US IN! LET US IN!!!!"
"I'M TRYING!" Mikey cried as he and Ray struggled to shift the wardrobe on the other side of the wooden door. Frank bean to hyperventalate, his heart hammered his ribs. He had stupidly left their weapons behind.
The zombies were getting closer, slowly but surely, gaining more ground with each step. They were truly hideous, the whites of their eyes bloodshot, their iris's rolled back in their heads only made them more terrifying. Gerard still pounded the door, screaming for fear of his life. His black hair plastered to his clammy forehead.
The zombies were so close now that Frank and Gerard could smell them, the stench of rotting organs so thick they could taste it.
At that moment the door was flung open and Ray dragged them inside, narrowly missing a zombie that tried to snatch Frank. Mikey shot a few of them back with his old hunting rifle before slamming the door shut. They all forced the wardrobe back in place and Frank and Gerard flopped to the floor, coughing and, in Gerard's case, sobbing heavily.
"Guys we're gonna have to leave here," Mikey stated. "There's no more food and if there is it's too well guarded. This place is swarming with Creepers."
Mikey called them Creepers because that's what they did; they creep up on you and they creep you out. Everyone agreed with Mikey, they always did. Mikey was the clever one, "The man with the plan."
"We move out tomorrow and head for?" Ray asked. Everyone looked at Mikey expectantly.
"We head for the countryside, less zombies than in the city. We should be safe there but we'll stop at the War Museum, there should be weapons there, right?"
It was agreed that they leave tomorrow and after bandaging Frank's leg, they lay in silence as th scrabbling hands at the doorway ceased before they even dared to sleep.
[*Let me know what you guys think! This story is kinda inspired by a zombie film I watched yesterday :) Please R&R thanks xoxo