Infection

It is early afternoon when me and Enrique step out of our apartment block. I've got my trusty nail bat, and my buddy went for a set of sharpened kitchen knives strapped to his belt. Bit of a strange option to be honest, but my god, he has got a fat off throwing arm. Anyway, we leave out apartment block when Enrique notices the creeper to my left. He beckons it to me, and with a swing of the bat, the blood soaked road gets a new coating. Of blood.

Yeah, that's one thing I never really got used to. When a human bleeds, we bleed red. When creeper bleeds, whatever the hell seeps through its wounds isn't blood. It is black, gloopy and really thick. It almost resembles tar, but for some reason, Enrique loves it. He laughs at the fact his boot makes a squishy sound whenever it makes contact with creeper goo. I swear down, if it wasn't for his laugh, I wouldn't have even thought about uploading the videos on Youtube.

Yes, somehow through the fall of humanity in many places around the world, Youtube seems to have excelled, thanks to Zombie Cam. This company started placing video cameras on zombies, to see what their behavior was like, but in the end it was boring, so they used the cameras to blow the fuckers up. Pretty funny, and that's why everyone posts "Z-Kills" on the web.

Enrique shuts me up, noticing that a crowd of zombies are loitering in the middle of the car park.
"Hey, watch this man, get the camera, I see... sensational", he whispers to me. I remove the camera from my bag and press the record button. I notice that Enrique is polishing one of his blades. I train the lens of the video camera towards his throwing arm as his motives become clear to me. The blade lightly licks his back as his arm is thrown forward, forcing the blade to fly through the air (With some speed, I might add), into the side of the head of a creeper to the left of the pack. The creeper falls down, along with another two before before the others cotton on. The pack turns to face our hiding spot, and I wield the bat with my other arm whilst placing the camera on the bonnet of the Lexus that we were hiding behind. Enrique grabs his two meat cleavers and joins me as I rush them.

My bat makes contact with the side of the first creeper, before finding its way into a second's stomach. I wipe out the second's skull with a well trained swing before I look towards Enrique. He looks like some angel sent from some shit. Mexican angel, as well. Gracefully lopping off creeper heads and kicking the bodies to the floor, what worries me about this picture is the creepy smile on his face as metal contacts with skull. He must be getting off on all this. I knew Mexicans were creepy.

After I decapitate the last creeper, I turn to see Enrique pointing at something strange. The front door to the supermarket is open. We always shut it.
"Enrique, you crazy fuck, did you leave it open from last time?" I call at him.
"No holmes, I thought it was you?" he replies, whilst he picks up the knives in which were currently lodged into an overweight lump of creeper. We turn to each other. He gulps, and we walk inside. Months of looting have left the tinned foods pretty barren, and strewn across the floor, but no-one was able to get into the store cupboards.

Step back three weeks, and Enrique and I had come across the abandoned police station. We had managed to scavenge computer parts from the workstations when I hear a groan. One of the police officers had never made it out of his workstation, so in his creeper state, half of his face was hanging off the other part by a few nerves. How on earth that was possible, I just don't know. But I turn suddenly to have the ugly fucker within inches of my face and I yell loudly. Within an instant, a computer monitor flies through the air that makes an impact on the side of the creeper. It stumbles as I start to hit it with a keyboard I had picked up in a hurry, with no luck. All of a sudden, a click of a pistol coming off of safety shuts me up. I look and see that a creeper has hold of a 9mm. I drop, tackling the first creeper to the floor and taking cover behind a workstation. I smash the creeper's face with my bat that I had left at another workstation.

At that moment, Enrique stumbles backwards and out of sight into another room. I notice him picking up a white brick and throwing it, slapping the gun-wielding creeper in the side of the head. I look to see that it has stuck to his face, before noticing the "C4" labelled on the side of the brick. The fucking Mexican found an explosive. I run down to the end of the corridor just as Enrique pulls the trigger. The workroom erupts into a ball of flames that forces me against the wall of the corridor. With my eyes blurred and my ears deafened from the roar of the explosion, I move my hands to my chest and brush off the combination of rubble and creeper goo, then try to focus my vision. That's when I see Enrique wielding two police-issue shotguns, a box of rounds and a large box of explosives.

Anyway, we'd used one of the explosives to blast through the wall into the supply cupboard, and barricaded it so we were able to use it repeatedly. Back to now, and I notice a gangly creeper down the corridor, close to the door of the store cupboards. it's the first time I hesitate Enrique's knife throw. This was a new breed of creeper. From examination, it looked to have extremely long arms and legs and a mutated head. It looked like a large spider had bred with a dog. Pretty creepy.

It turns and sprints towards us, and I signal for Enrique to throw the knife. The speed of this new creeper catches him off, and the knife skims the creature and falls on the floor. You know you're fucked when Enrique misses his throw. He never misses. I take the bat and swing into the side of the creeper, and it makes contact, but forces the creeper to scream. It deafens me for a split second before the screaming suddenly stops, and I look up to see the head of the creeper nestled on the ground, with Enrique stood over it with a meat cleaver covered in goo. I swear down, I hear him say "That's for making me miss, puto".

I look to the rest of the creeper and examine it more clearly. I turn to Enrique and he looks back at me.
"What shall we call this fucker then, pal?"

"Hey, he's a creeper nonetheless, but I say we call him Bingo."

"Wow Enrique, odd name to call a creeper. I meant this type of creeper, Mexican fuck."

"Sounds good mate", I say, as I turn to fill up my bag. We fill our bags up, and as soon as mine is full, my ears pick up a faint crashing sound. Enrique quickly shuffles to the door, before turning and listening as another crash is heard.

"Oi, Jordan. Pack your bags and lets go. I think it's time we left." The distressing tone in his voice displeases me. I turn to walk out the room, and just as we get back onto the shop floor, we realise what is making the crashing sounds. On the other side of the store, three hooded scavengers are walking through the tins of food that are strewn across the floor. One of them looks up and notices me, and starts to run towards us. The other two cotton on and follow the first.

My bat makes contact with the first scavenger's chest, and I kick him to the floor. Enrique throws a knife that glides through the air before making contact with the second's forehead before the third one slides through the tins to kick Enrique to the floor. As Enrique tackles the character, he fails to notice that her guard is down, and my hunting knife edges against the throat of the scavenger. The fighting stops s I pull the hood from the stranger. Blonde locks fling out in several directions and a face of little make-up and fair complexion is revealed. Enrique sits back, shocked.

It's a fucking girl.