Mitch sprung like a coiled snake, striking while the infected was off guard and trying to get to its feet. It had been a woman in its life beforehand, but Mitch’s knife put a quick end to her attacking the rear door. He sunk the blade deep into her skull, twisted and pulled the knife free before she even registered their presence. As Hatcher began pushing the door shut, two more infected slammed into it, beating him against the rear wall and knocking the wind from him.
The first infected came in the door with his nose in the air, sniffing. He brought his head down and his eyes fell upon Mitch, bloody knife in his hand and a feral look in his eyes. The man cocked his head to the side and studied him for just a moment, unsure what Mitch might actually be. Then he opened his mouth to form the scream that Mitch was all too familiar with. Mitch leapt forward, bringing the knife in straight to catch the man’s lower jaw and pinning his mouth shut as he thrust the knife up and through the top of his head. The infected man shook momentarily and danced the dance of death as Mitch’s knife short circuited his brain.
While Mitch held the infected man at bay and struggled not to be scratched or clawed by his vibrating limbs, the third infected bounded into the room and leapt off the body of the first dead zombie, coming up right next to Mitch. Mitch barely had time to register her presence before she grabbed his knife hand and sank her teeth into the meaty muscle of his twitching arm.
Neither of them heard the door slam and lock as Hatcher struggled to suck air into his body. He knew that some of the infected had forced their way in and knocked the crap out of him, but if there were more out there, he’d keep them out. He scrambled for his gun and could barely see to level it at the scene in front of him.
Mitch stared into the red eyes of the naked woman who had caused the death of Darren and taunted him in the woods. She pulled back from his arm with a wet ripping sound, and he felt the burning sensation of liquid fire shoot up his arm as her teeth ripped skin, meat, and sinew from his muscled forearm.
With gritted teeth, he switched hands and pulled the knife from the skull of his infected victim and slashed at the crazy bitch with his good arm. She bounced back from him as if she could read his movements and he barely left a scratch across one of her heavy breasts that gravity dragged back slower than the rest of her could move. Although his knife had carved a nice slice across her soft mammary, she never reacted other than to chew the meat in her mouth and swallow.
Mitch crouched into an attack position and the crazy, red-eyed bitch followed suit. Slowly the two circled one another. Her lashing out with her bone-tipped fingers and him slashing with his knife. Hatcher followed with the rifle, trying like hell to keep the crazy bitch in his sights.
Candy stood in front of the children, shielding them with her own body, her arms spread wide to protect them. As the crazy woman circled around, Candy shifted and Buck caught a glimpse of the fight, the filth-covered woman had her back to him and he shivered at the thought of possibly being bitten, maybe being made into one of the red-eyed zombies. Then he noticed Mitch’s arm and his eyes widened, his breath quickening.
“Oh, my God,” he whispered. Candy instinctively pressed him back, but the two warriors had circled each other again and Buck caught sight of the naked woman’s features.
Buck Jennings felt the color drain from his face as the realization struck him. His knees suddenly went weak and for a moment, his heart broke. He wanted nothing more than to run to her. No matter that he was seventeen, he was still her son, and this was his mother.
“Mom!” he choked out, and all eyes turned to the young man shielded in the corner, tears running down his face.
As the red-eyed creature turned at the unexpected noise, Mitch used the distraction to his advantage and struck. He sunk his knife deep into the temple of the crazy red-eyed naked bitch and buried it to the hilt. She immediately struck out with her arm and knocked him to the side, but the damage was done. His knife had struck home, the swelling on her brain had been relieved, her cerebral spinal fluid flowing out from the puncture, taking bits of bone and brain matter with it. The increased pressure of the CSF causing a bloody spray, much like an arterial slice to the neck as her body fell to the floor in convulsions.
Buck pushed away from Candy and ran to her side. He still kept his distance, fear of infection keeping him from trying to hold her hand or cradling her while she died. He fell to his knees and cried next to her twitching body.
Mitch sat up and shook his head. “Bitch can hit,” he muttered as he tried to crawl to his feet. Hatcher staggered to his side and helped him up.
“We need to get that arm looked at,” he said. “There’s a first aid kit in the office.”
Mitch shook his head. “Too late, man.” He turned sad eyes to his friend. “One bite, one scratch…you’re toast.”
“What?” Hatcher’s mind raced. “No. No, that can’t be right,” he said disbelievingly.
“Trust me, man. I’ve seen enough out in the woods. I know what I’m talking about.”
Hatcher shook his head as he pulled at Mitch. “No, we just need to
