Spencer clutched the gory end of the broken axe handle in his small hand as he raced toward the sidewalk that ran along the wash. One way led back toward Fort Lowell Road and probably more zombies. The other led north and this was the direction he chose.
The undead birthday party as well as stray zombies took up the chase, but his nine-year old legs weren’t stopping. A big male zombie with a gory mouth lumbered up in front of him blocking his path.
“Shit sandwich,” he said, mimicking his father.
Even his young mind knew that if he slowed down the others behind him could catch up, so he tried to dodge around the freak. It clawed at him as he passed, grabbing his shirt. “Son of a…” he started, but the wind got knocked out of him and the zombie pulled him off his feet. Spencer hit the pavement hard and the zombie bent down to feast on his warm flesh.
Spencer held the spike of wood upright as the mouth descended. “Oh please,” he whispered as he closed his eyes. The thing opened its blood covered mouth wide and Spencer’s snapped his eyes back open and drove the spike deep into the thing’s throat. It was a lucky shot, but the thing was… it didn’t kill it.
The big zombie moaned in anger and attempted to bite him, but his teeth were blocked by the protruding spike. Spencer tried to escape, but the zombie’s fingers dig and tore at him, cutting him open and eliciting a cry of pain from the young boy. Behind him, Spencer could hear the other undead drawing near.
With a yell, Spencer drove both his hands forward and pummeled the end of the spike. “Eat my spike, bitch,” he screamed and the zombie drew back, making a choking sound, while more blood exploded from its ruptured mouth.
Spencer struggled and managed to roll onto his side. The thing got on all fours and stretched out a hand for the boy, but Spencer was quicker and with a violent back kick he drove the wooden spike into the zombie with such force that it severed its spine and the zombie finally went limp.
Looking back, he saw that the undead were only a few yards behind him.
With a yelp, he crawled to the fence that ran along the wash and scrambled under it. This proved to be a sound idea for the older zombies paused as they struggled to climb over the four foot railing, while even the younger undead were forced to tumble over the lower rails to reach him. Even as he watched, three zombies miscalculated their landing and fell to the wash far below.
Spencer heaved his battered and bloody body onto its feet and continued to move north keeping the railing between him and the growing horde of walking dead. He had made it an hundred yards before his eyes grew wide with fear.
He had come across the backside of a grocery store and four zombies moaned loudly when they saw him. He struggled to run past them before they could reach the railing, but failed. Looking over his shoulder, he saw at least a dozen zombies stumbled behind him, while before him the four large zombies were already stretching the arms across the railing, which would make it nearly impossible for him to pass.
Weaponless and alone, Spencer let out a moan of his own, before whimpering, “I’m so screwed.”
Tune in next Saturday for the Climax of Spiking It!