Spencer and his older sister remained indecisive after they heard a loud yell that sounded like their father. Even though they had cleared out the central area that surrounded the apartment’s playground, already the moans of new approaching zombies reached their young ears.
A series of gunshots galvanized them.
“Maybe that’s dad,” he said, while tucking the splintered end of the broken axe handle through his belt.
“We had better hope so,” Emily yelled over her shoulder, as she started to jog in that direction. “It seems like it came from the other side of the building to our right. Oh damn.” She dropped down on one knee and stabilized her rifle when two of the shambling dead rounded the corner in front of her.
While she became involved in her careful aiming, a lone zombie, which looked little older than Spencer’s nine, pushed open a door to an apartment to her left. At once, it moved on stiff legs toward his sister’s exposed back.
Spencer brought up his revolver. The first shot went wild. “Dang it.” Taking a deep breath, he brought the cross-hairs up and centered his aim on the former child’s forehead. A second later, its brain exploded into a red mist.
But he had worse troubles.
Behind the first boy another dozen half-eaten, gory children emerged. “Emily, look out! That place must have been a day care or something. All these kids are infected!”
She looked over her shoulder and gasped. After grabbing his hand, she yanked him along, while yelling, “Come on! That gunfire’s almost a constant now. Even if those other people aren’t dad, we need to get to more people with guns.”
Behind them, the children swarmed out of the apartment. Why there should be so many escaped him until he saw that some of them wore blood spattered birthday hats. He wanted to cry at the thought of some poor kid’s birthday party becoming such a nightmare. But he maintained his composure as best he could. His father was close and he knew if they could just find him everything would be okay.
While the gathering children hounded them, the siblings were also forced to stop to blast random zombies that threatened to block their path. After a large group of half a dozen appeared from the south, Spencer had emptied his gun.
“I’m out,” he panted, as they kept running.
“I’m not even sure how many I have left, but it can’t be much. Let’s just hope that’s Dad, Jewels, and whoever his stupid girlfriend is.”
As the young pair turned the corner, their eyes took in a sight, which was both a relief, but also a horror.
The apartment they rounded had another large parking lot behind it. In its center, perched in the bed of a large pickup truck was his father and Jewels. Of their father’s mysterious girlfriend, there remained no sign. The problem was nearly twenty of the flesh craving infected pushed and struggled to be the first to sink their teeth into their dad’s flesh.
“Oh no,” escaped Emily’s lips like a whisper. She said something else, but her words were drowned out by the moans coming from the gang of undead children that lurched at them from behind.
To be continued next Saturday.