Raven glanced at him and grinned; more of a baring of teeth. Henry mirrored her expression and held up four blood-stained fingers. Raven frowned.
“The last two didn’t really count,” she spoke. “My kill pinned them down.”
Henry shrugged. An undead man with skin the color of coffee with a hint of cream and cinnamon grabbed Henry by the hair and pulled him onto his toes with bearlike strength. Her brother’s face went comically blank and Raven snorted. She pushed away an undead woman, wearing a pale flower print dress and a large sun hat that sat askew on her head. The woman stumbled, hands outstretched and reaching, jaws snapping. Raven swung her axe and removed the woman’s head completely, severing her long chicken neck. Raven turned to the large zombie man and jumped; burying her axe into his skull with such force his decaying eyes fell from their sockets. They dangled by sinuous nerves and blood vessels. Her axe stuck and Raven had to leap again to pull it free. The light went out of his eyes and he crumpled, letting go of Henry. Her brother sidestepped out of the way, gasping for air. The zombie fell with a crash that shook the ground. Crows cawed indignantly and took flight like a large black cloud from the nearest tree.
Raven held up four fingers, smiling broadly. Henry laughed and ducked his head, acknowledging that they were now tied.
The undead still poured from the trees, thirty strong and they were all focused on Henry and Raven.
Raven back peddled rapidly to avoid their reaching hands. “There’re too many,” she yelled to be heard over the grumbling din.
“I know,” Henry spoke. His face was covered in a spattering of brains and he sported a large goose egg on his forehead. Raven was sure she didn’t look much better. She could feel the drying blood crusting on her face.
“I say we lead them away, into the trees,” Raven said. She backed away the whole time she spoke.
“Agreed,” Henry said, keeping pace with her. His voice shook as he jogged backwards.
The horde of undead marched toward them, arms extended and fingers reaching. Their noises had increased, grunts and snarls becoming all Raven could hear.
“Go!” she said and sprinted into the trees.
Her boots smacked the ground, squelching a little in the mud. Raven ducked beneath a low hanging branch and saw Henry in her peripheral, keeping pace easily. The zombies followed more slowly, catching their limbs on branches and roots.
“We’re losing some of them,” Henry panted.
Raven glanced back and saw they were still followed closely by ten or twelve zombies. “Not enough,” she spoke.
“This way,” Henry said, gesturing to the right. He grabbed the low branch of an oak and vaulted, landing easily in the tree. “Come on,” he said, reaching his hand down for Raven.
“Shit,” she said. Raven hated climbing but didn’t see much choice.
She wasn’t a runner and Henry knew that. They couldn’t outrun the undead forever and she could feel her muscles in her arms aching from the exertion of swinging her axe. She grabbed his hand and scrambled into the tree. The bark was uncomfortably rough beneath her fingers but she ignored the sensation.
“Come on,” he said, climbing to the next branch. “We need to go a little higher.”
“Fucker,” Raven hissed, irritated and amused simultaneously. When they were children, Henry was like a monkey, scaling the trees in their backyard easily. Raven was always jealous of it.
They climbed the oak, ascending thirty feet into the air. The horde of undead stopped momentarily at the base of the tree, their jaws snapping audibly and they scented the air. After a few minutes that felt much longer they continued to stumble further into the trees and away from the Mom and Pop.
“Jesus,” Henry exclaimed, lying back onto a large branch. He threw his arm over his eyes, knife still held loosely in his grasp. “That was a workout.” His chest heaved.
Raven laughed weakly and could only agree. “Why didn’t they run like the others?” she asked, curious.
Henry sat up and stared after the undead. “That’s a good question,” he spoke, scratching the stubble on his chin. “Maybe it has something to do with the degree of rot. Those zombies stunk like corpses. I haven’t noticed that before with any of the others.”
“Huh,” Raven said. “Maybe the longer they’re undead the weaker they become. Their skulls spilt more easily than a live person’s would.”
Henry laughed. “And you know that how?” he asked, chuckling.
Raven smiled. “I assume that’s the case anyhow.” She punched her brother in the shoulder.
Henry grinned. “Let’s wait a little longer to make sure they’re gone.” he said. He pulled his knees to his chest and settled more comfortably against a large branch.
“Sounds good,” Raven spoke, hoping that Liz and Rocky were all right. She wasn’t sure if she trusted this Monique woman but there was little choice right now.
They watched the zombie horde stumble through the forest, heading north into the mountains. The sun shone down through the tree canopy, casting the undead in speckled shadows.
Chapter Eight
Trouble Finds Liz
Liz
Liz stood in the front of the store, hands pressed against the glass. She kept one eye out for Raven and Henry and the other on the new woman. Rocky sat by Liz’s side, panting. She could feel his comforting weight against her leg.
