Alex sighed, his panicking features smoothing into one of cold practicality. “We must hide, but first, I need to know how many there are. I have to go back out there.”
“No, don’t go,” Amy said, clutching at his hand. “What if they see you?”
“They won’t. In the meantime, I want you to do something for me, okay?” Alex said, his manner calm and soothing.
“What?”
“I want you to grab two backpacks and fill them with our clothes and stuff. One for you and one for me. Meet me at the top of the stairs.”
“Okay,” Amy said, glad to have a task to keep her mind off the horror that faced them outside.
She did as Alex asked, filling a bag for each of them with their clothes and personal things. It didn’t take long. Once she reached the top of the stairs, she spotted the gas lamps burning in the kitchen and living room. Even with the blacked-out windows, she didn’t want to take a chance at the light being spotted.
Amy ran downstairs and put out the lamp in the living room. Next, she went to the kitchen. The light stood next to the sink. She bent her head forward to look for the switch on the gas bottle, but it was too late. The window over the sink exploded into a gazillion pieces. Hands reached through the blinds and grabbed her by the hair.
Amy screamed as sharp nails shredded her scalp and grasping fingers clutched at her clothes and arms. She reached for the gun at her side but encountered nothing but cloth. Then she remembered. She’d taken off her gunbelt to relax on the couch. It had kept getting in the way. Her shotgun lay next to the coffee table. Both were useless to her now.
One zombie had her by the collar, and its grip was like iron. She reared backward, trying to pull free, but its hold was unbreakable. Vicious faces thrust through the opening, their teeth bared in anticipation of the feast to come. “Alex! Alex, help me!”
Amy kicked and punched with all her might, swatting at the many hands that reached for her. She twisted from side to side and pushed against the edge of the counter with every ounce of strength she possessed. It was no use. Bit by bit, she was being pulled toward the gaping maws of the infected.
Her heart hammered in her chest, so hard she feared it would break free from its bony cage. For the first time in her short life, she knew what it felt like to be a fly caught in a web.
Helpless.
Hopeless.
Waiting to be eaten.
Amy’s muscles weakened as fatigue set in, and her terrified screams filled the air. Then her frightened gaze fell upon the row of drawers next to the sink, and she yanked open the one at the top. Neat rows of cutlery met her eyes. “No, not that.”
She opened the second one and cried with relief. “Yes!”
Her fingers found the handle of a cleaver, and she chopped at the hand that held her collar. The blade cut deep, but the zombie didn’t let go. Amy kept at it, hacking away at the flesh until the bone was exposed. Even then, the infected refused to relinquish its grip, and she began to lose all hope. “Alex, please! Help me!”
Chapter 13 - Alex
After sending Amy on her errand, Alex unlocked the sliding door and crept outside. He pressed himself up against the wall and peered over the side of the balcony. As before, it was too dark to see, but he could clearly hear the mass of bodies jostling each other below. Now that he knew what he was listening to, it was easier to discern the different noises.
If it was the horde, they were doomed, and Alex prayed it was just a small group that had stumbled onto their safe house. But in truth, he knew better. No small group would be capable of pushing over the walls that bordered the property. They were too high and too thick, made of solid stone. In that regard, Saul had chosen well, although it now looked like even that wouldn’t help.
As he waited for another flash of lightning, Alex considered their options. They were limited. Even if they could open the garage and gates without being swarmed, it was unlikely they’d be able to drive through a mass of the undead. It’d be suicide.
They could try to hide. Wait it out. If the zombies didn’t know they were there, they might pass on. It was a huge risk, but the only way out that he could see.
The next moment, his hopes were dashed when he heard the sound of breaking glass followed by his sister’s terrified screams. “Alex! Alex, help me!”
Instantly, the crowd of zombies below went berserk. Amy’s cries acted like a current of electricity, galvanizing them into a frenzy.
Alex ran inside, not bothering to close the sliding door. It wouldn’t help anyway. The zombies knew they were there and would stop at nothing to get to them. He vaulted down the stairs, his feet barely touching the ground. It took only a second to assess the situation, and he knew he had to act fast.
Sprinting toward the living room, he scooped up Amy’s gunbelt and shotgun along with his rifle. Luckily, he still wore his sidearm, rarely taking it off even for the sake of comfort. All around him, glass exploded as more infected tried to claw their way inside.
Ignoring them for the moment, he ran to the kitchen. He reached Amy’s side within seconds and dropped her weapons onto the floor. “Amy, duck!”
Amy tried to obey. She dropped the cleaver and huddled into a ball with her head tucked between both arms. She was hampered by the grasping arms of the infected, but he couldn’t afford to wait.
Alex lifted his carbine and fired off a volley of shots, cutting a bloody swath through the faces
