You're Hoping For A Taste

I can hear the Walkers following me. They snarl and shriek, their bones grind and click, their feet drag but don't stop moving. It's not really them I have to worry about; it's the one's further up the road. They spot me and come stumbling over, groping for me. I learned a while back that the trick is to dodge them at the last second. They're too slow to react, rushing past you.

But right now my resolve is struggling to remain intact. The level-headed part of me is saying 'treat this as a marathon, run don't sprint, remain at the same pace', but I'm positive competing in the Olympics would be less nerve-racking than this. I want to run as fast as I can and not stop till I'm safe at home, in England.

I can't even look back. If I do that will waste time and probably freak me out even more. I don't want to know how many of them are following me, but in my mind I see hundreds. I want to check that Kellin and Gabe are okay, but I can't. So I keep running.

I see the corner coming up on my right. All I have to do is run three streets in a circle and then I'm back where I began. Kellin and Gabe should have got Jesse by then. I hope.

A Walker rushes at me from around the corner and I barely have time to react, almost tripping as I dodge him. His fingers just rake my arm and I feel my elbow instinctively connect with flesh, smacking him in the throat.

I keep going, but I can feel panic rising in me, choking me, squeezing my lungs, gripping my legs, and I have to keep going, I have to, I can't fail now, but I'm so close to death that I can barely think straight.

What sounds like a thousand pairs of feet are slapping the tarmac behind me, scuffing the road, but never stopping. Voices rise in a chorus, wailing and groaning. I try to imagine I'm back at school in a PE lesson, running the track. Or that it's sports day and I'm doing the 1500m race and all those voices belong to the crowd of parents and teachers and students cheering the runners on. But it's so stupid, and so far from the truth, that I can barely sustain the image for a second. I'm running from Walkers, running for my life, and that's a fact.

I round the next corner. This is the last street. Once I go round the other corner the car will come into view and I'll just have to run those last few yards to safety. I push on. My legs are starting to ache but I ignore them. I promised Kellin I'd be careful. I have to keep my promise. Kellin told me not to worry about him but I can't help it. What if they can't get into the building? What if Jesse's too slow? What if not all the Walkers followed me? So many things could have already gone wrong.

I near the end of the street and I can feel my heart beating so hard I'm surprised it just hasn't given up already. I feel tears spring to my eyes again because I've almost finished the race, I've almost done it. I hurry round the corner and that's when I receive the answers to my questions.

Kellin and Gabe obviously got into the building and Jesse isn't too slow because there they are, just closing the last metre between them and the car, Jesse being held up by Kellin and Gabe on either side. But the other answer is no, not all the Walkers followed me. About a dozen are shambling along the road between me and the boys. They all look up as I come careening round the corner, milky eyes locking onto me. And then they're moving, trying to gain speed, coming towards me. That's when I lose it, completely. My legs, despite their aching, start going faster. And I can't help myself; I look back, and the sight behind me has bile rising in my throat. There's a horde of around thirty chasing me, probably more, and I know they will do anything just to sink their teeth into my flesh. They won't stop, they won't tire, unlike me.

I look towards the car, see Kellin and Gabe helping Jesse onto the back seat. Even from here I can see a dark red stain seeping across his jeans. And then Kellin's head snaps to the left, looking right at me. He reaches for his gun, pulling it from his belt, and then he's heading for me. He aims at the Walkers in front of me and starts shooting. A few go down, but it's not like he has perfect aim. I haven't used any of my bullets yet, afraid that if I started shooting then it would only slow me down. I lift up my gun, but I'm terrified I'm going to hit Kellin, and I'm worried he's going to do the same to me, but what choice do we have?

The first Walker reaches me and I dodge him easily enough, one of his legs being unnaturally bent slowing him down. I see two coming straight at me when one of them suddenly goes down in a spray of red, Kellin having shot it. I shoot the other one but only in the shoulder. It being point blank range means that the Walker goes down anyway, but as I pass it's trying to get to its feet. It throws itself at me but I move aside just in time.

And then Kellin's there, taking my hand. “Come on, hurry,” he says, a little out of breath, and we run. He's half pulling me at this point as I'm starting to tire, and I think how awful would it be if after all the times he's saved me I got him killed because I was too slow. It sounds like the entire world is chasing us. The entire world of the dead.

The car is in the middle of the road where we left it, and as we rush to open our doors Gabe is just leaning over from the back seat to turn the key in the ignition. The car rumbles to life, and I feel so pent up with nervous energy as I climb in the car that I can't shut my door fast enough.

This is the first time I get a proper look at what was following me and the sight rips the air from my lungs. There is no sight worse than a horde of corpses all desperately running for you. It's a mass of dried blood and rotting flesh and yellowing bones.

“Go, go, go!” I'm yelling at Kellin, flapping my hands at him as though that'll make him move any faster.

“I'm going, I'm going!” he shouts back, putting the car in reverse, his eyes locked on the approaching horde. The first of them throws himself on the bonnet, fingers scraping at the windscreen, when the car flies backwards, speeding down the road. The Walker goes spinning off the car, rolling on the tarmac. The horde doesn't care, just keeps coming, trampling straight over him. But the car is going too fast. We're going to make it.

Kellin quickly backs the car round the corner, and I hear a grunt of pain from the back. I glance over my shoulder as Jesse says through gritted teeth, “Could you be a bit more careful, Kellin?” He's sat beside Gabe, his leg propped up on the seat beside him.

“Not until we've lost this horde,” Kellin replies. He goes speeding up the street away from the Walkers, crashing through the gears. We're going so fast that the Walkers left on neighbouring streets barely have time to register we're there.

“We need fuel,” I say as I lean towards Kellin to get a better look at the fuel gauge.

He looks at it and sighs irritably.

“Our car is parked the other side of town,” Gabe pipes up, “and we have fuel in the back. I'll direct you, Kel, just get us there in one piece, okay man?”

“Okay, where to?”