In the Sound

“Did you do it, huh?”

He made a terrible face at me, seething and cruel. His eyes were hollow and jittery as they focused on me. I weaved my hands through his swiping ones and rested them over his shoulders.

“I bet you did. I bet you did!” With a throaty groan, I pushed at him with all my might until he was a few steps back.

The walker lost his footing, his back fumbled onto the other walkers behind him. They kept on treading, ignoring his falling body. Another man was trudging over him, desperately trying to get to me. The first walker was down, his face being trampled on by the others. His head splattered against the grey carpet, spilling black and brown everywhere.

“Bet you killed him!”

I nicked the knife between my fingers and thrust it in between the closest walker’s eyes. Wedging my boot at his stomach, I pulled my knife out of his head and let him crumple to the floor.
Two more walkers were already on me.

A girl at my right, her withered face vaguely familiar. She was a grade or two below me, I think. Pretty little auburn hair in coils around her cheeks. Her head tilted, jaws wide open and ready to nab at my neck. I ducked away from her cautiously, my head jolting away in panic. I swung at her throat, feeling the knife struggle to carve into the fleshy mound. With all of my strength, I pulled it out, spraying a line of her blood behind me.

The other walker was already at my back, tugging me towards it. I heard Kit’s thundering bark before he pounced on it. My feet stumbled around one another as I kept a wonky stand. I could hear Kit gnawing into the squishy brain of whoever was trying to eat mine.

When I balanced on the balls of my heels again, my eyes flickered toward the hallway. They scurried through, eager to rip off a piece of me. A frustrated groan escaped from the back of my throat. It felt dry and sore, scratching at my voice.

There were too many.

My head twisted around hastily, bulbs fluttering over everything in the room. They trained on the wall behind me. Behind the wooden framed bed were a thick roll of curtains draping over a window.

“Kit!” I shrieked, feeling the burn at my throat.

I leaped onto the bed, bouncing on my land. Kit perked up, ears wriggling. He blinked slowly, and just as I did, bounded onto the bed. Slipping the curtains back, I slammed my hand across the window glass.

Pain streaked across my skin, the glass barely shuddering at my touch. Kit faced the hallway, crouching down. His nails dug into the sheets, a horrible growl rattling against my ears.

Flipping my knife around, I wrapped my sweaty fingers around the blade. I pulled back and thrust forward, cracking the handle of the knife against the window. My palm slid along the knife as it collided with the window, slitting it open. I screamed out, dropping the knife and snaking a tight grip around my wrist.

Kit was biting back another walker, chewing its arm as the room filled with more and more. They scrambled to the bed, some of them falling to their knees and reaching desperately for us. Kit would nip off the ones who could climb.

I glanced back to the window. Only the slightest crack seamed through the glass. Squeezing my wrist, I took one step back from the window. My heels dug into the blankets, breathe catching in my throat.

One. Two. Three.

My legs scuttled forward, shoulder barging first. I felt the top of my arm slam against the window, sending streaks of pain through my arm.

Stepping back again, the seams of cracks were spread out. I lunged again, shoulder barging against the window. Shards slipped out, the cracks spreading like a web. Kit beat back another walker. The hole inside the window was jagged and crooked, too small for either of us to slip through.

My fingers kissed for a pillow. I laced it over my cut hand, making sure my arm was wedged all the way inside the case. And I punched. I punched at the window as hard as I could. My knuckles breaking and glass chipping into my skin. The window cracking until there was barely any glass left in the frame.

I whistled and stood back.

As Kit jumped through the small opening, I threw the lumpy pillow case at one of the walkers. Spinning on my heel, I squeezed through the broken window. The sides of my shoulders cutting against the thin frame of broken glass that was still around the edges.

When I hit the floor, my eyes were blinded. The grass felt soft and damp on my arms. Eyelids blinking as fast as fluttering butterfly wings.

But I forced myself up. Heaved myself to a wonky stand, eyes squinted. Fingers still wrapped around my cut palm, blood streaming down my fingers. The tickle of fur on my hip told me Kit was on his feet too.

“Bit further, Kit. Let’s find a road, head back to town.”

And we ran. We ran with wonky legs. Fumbling over rocks and twigs every now and again. My pace slowing every few minutes just so that I could suck in a little bit of air. All I could hear was my own heart hammering loudly in my chest.

I peeked ahead through squinted eyes. Through the lining of trees was a tattered bitumen road. I made for it, a soft breath slipping through my lips.

My legs were aching, bones sore. The sight of the road made my legs twirl faster. I scampered over, toes touching the edge of the road. As soon as I was on the hot tar, I fell into my back. Rolling across the road, feeling Kit jumping onto my stomach.

I would have closed my eyes and rested then and there. Just closed them and pretended I didn’t see them. The things that reminded me of my Dad. That carried around his memory with every step that they took.

But I sat up in panic. Sat up to the sound of a beeping car.