River's Glen, a sleepy town in northern USA

Leeanna Accadi
Day 6 - Uptown Main Drag.

The road Leeanna travelled on was much longer than she had remembered, as her feet moved swiftly, silently, the trees of River Glen’s forest whizzed past her. The silence crept about her flesh in an eerie fashion; something about the silence of an undead town was more frightening than screams of terror. One would expect howls of horror in such a place, but when there was nothing that meant the living dead outnumbered the living. This very thought alone caused for aches in her heart – or maybe that was just from the improperly paced sprint she embarked on.

Her living beating muscle of life pumped harder and harder with each passing second, forcing what felt like battery acid through her veins. Lee’s hard working legs felt as if they had been engulfed with flames. ‘road – road… it has to be coming up soon’ she thought to herself as the taste of blood rose up her dry throat to linger on the back of her tongue.

Her foot falls started to grow slower for short seconds at a time, then she pushed forward again with all she had. This went on for another short four minutes – but four minutes in that state felt much longer, and then she heard it.

A loud groan from up a head.
Shuffling feet on pavement.

The road wasn’t in sight but it had to be just around the bend, in retrospect she thought maybe going to a main road wasn’t such a good idea, the busier the road, the higher population, which means more chance of -zombies-.

The high sun was slowly making its way across the atmosphere, winter means shorter days, and she was running out of time before night fall, she needed shelter within the next few hours and better weaponry would be ideal. As these thoughts processed she had a chance to catch her breath, to sort and problem solve.

At the edge of the road further ahead she saw a large fallen tree branch, it looked as if it was a good size for longer distance combat, but if she had the strength to use it was another question. Small creeping steps lead her to this optional weapon, her eyes scanned the area, the main road ahead and she saw nothing, but the sounds continued. Slowly bending over her fragile hands gripped the branch pulling it out from the bush. Rustling and crackling of leaves seemed much louder in her own mind than they were in reality.

Leeanna reached to her bag taking out her scalpel and began slicing off the dead thinner twigs which branched off of it, and then the groans stopped, the shuffling stopped, and silence – again. Nervous shimmering eyes looked ahead of the road where the rotted body of what should be laid to rest stood, its melted fleshy face peering right at her.

With quick hands she snapped the blade back to her satchel, her eyes studying this creature. Thanks to her occupation she was insanely curious of these ‘people’ and in a one on one situation such as this she couldn’t help her natural wonders of its breed, that is until it started moving towards her, mouth hanging wide open and the mumbles and gurgling growing louder. He would attract more, fuck.

Heaving this branch with all her might Leeanna propped it up on her shoulder holding it almost like a nearly too large baseball bat and began to charge her target. Once getting within reaching distance she swung, a sickening crack sounded and as his body fell to the ground the gravel sliding beneath him, rocks clanging against one another.

Her heavily booted foot came slamming downwards on the side of his jaw, she felt the bone give way under the pressure, splintering and shattering in all directions. His body writhed, long arms and fingers wrapping about her ankle, she pulled back quickly, just enough to forcefully slam her foot back to the top of his skull – again and again – until the strong structure gave way, his forehead was concaved and his body had gone limp, with the exception of the grip about her.

As she tried to shake her foot free blood sprinkled off the soles of her boots, small speckles landing on the surrounding terrain. A lengthy strip of flesh which must have slid right off the poor sucker flew across the road hitting a tree truck and slowly, tauntingly slid down until hitting the forest floor. The running vital fluid from this zombie’s head was now lurching out to soak the foot which stood still and once her other was freed in also became soaked in the beasts blood.

Without a single thought of remorse Leeanna continued her run right down the main road, her eyes scanning houses as she looked for her main goal, a hunting goods store. She figured if she couldn’t find one within the next few hours she would take up shelter somewhere until the next morning.

Checking behind her frequently she saw the bloody foot prints which followed, any human who saw them and wasn’t a half-wit would notice them to be running tracks and since these… undead didn’t run the tracks would obviously be from a living – any zombie who saw them would note the smell of their own kind and not bother.

After coming to this conclusion Leeanna took it upon herself to find any REALLY dead undead and stomp them to the point of coating her boots in their blood.

Hopefully if there were any living they would seek her out.

The fit had come upon Geoff suddenly as the jagged report of gunfire echoed through the streets. Even before the harsh tones had faded into the ether, he was on the ground, his wiry frame wracked by uncontrollable convulsions, eyes rolling into his skull. It had happened. He was back.

The jungle was thick and oppressive, hemming him in like a cage. The uniform itched. The bites itched. The sound of leaves rustling itched in his ears. The rifle was heavy. He couldn't see anything but green tinged with red.

BANGBANGBANG. The screams rang out. The unholy chatter began again, filling the air with red mist. The mouth of hell growing red-hot, words of steel flying from the toothless maw. BANGBANGBANG. The ground fell away, and men dropped like stones, plunging into nothingness.

Geoff blinked. Sweat dripped from his forehead, into his eyes, it's salty taste on his tongue. Ghost whimpered, pressing his warm body against him. Geoff blinked. Thankfully he hadn't left his hiding place before the fit took him. It had been months since he'd had one that bad.

Wiping his long, matted hair back from his face, he crawled out of the sewer culvert, leaning on the sharpened iron railing for support, opening and shutting his eyes against the harsh light. No walkers about. Good.

He checked himself over for injuries, and then started off again, the wolf padding softly at his heel. In the distance, over the tangle of roofs jutted the sign for the gas station, the old neon still flickering in the evening air. Geoff had spent many a night under the flying canopy, hands extended for a gracious quarter so he could eat. It would still be a place of sanctuary. Gasoline for the odd Molotov cocktail, dried food and cold drinks.

As he approached through the tangle of car-cluttered streets, Ghost began to growl, and the sound of two voices echoed down the street. One was high-pitched and whiny, the other tinged with the throes of adolescence. Fucking kids, Geoff muttered to himself as he pushed inside an anonymous suburban property. It'd do for the night, at least. He'd tackle the kids in the morning.