Mateo shook his head. “Sorry,” he replied, “just been a while since I’ve heard gunshots going off close by.”
“It’s all good,” Zion assured him. “Just don’t let it break your concentration.”
His companion nodded and pulled out his two blades from the holsters at his sides. One was the foot-long curved blade, and the other was a meat cleaver, both of them shiny and unbelievably sharp.
As they walked up, a few of the zombies broke away from the building, attracted by the gunshots. The trio made it within fifteen yards before another shot cracked, and more zombies turned towards the truck.
“Which one do you want?” Zion asked.
Mateo inclined his head. “I’ll take the trio,” he said.
Zion nodded, impressed at the bravado. “Have at it,” he said, waving his companion forward.
Mateo walked up confidently to the trio of zombies, and the lead of the triangle lunged at him, clad in designer jeans and a tattered polo shirt. The living man went into a flurry of slashes, the cleaver taking off both of the creature's arms and the long blade slipping up through the ghoul’s chin like butter.
He pulled back on the blade and fell into a crouch as the two behind came forward, shoulder to shoulder. Mateo slashed at throat level, cutting deep into their necks but not quite far enough to sever their heads. He flipped the cleaver around and attacked with the blunt end, coming across his body and catching the left zombie on the side of the head.
The impact sent the head clean off its body from its weakened severed neck, and slammed into its partner, partially knocking the second zombie’s head off. It fell to the ground and continued to moan and gnash its teeth as the head held on by a few tendons. Mateo jabbed down into its eye socket with the long knife, silencing it.
Zion began a slow clap, shaking his head. “My apologies on doubting you, sir,” he said sincerely.
“A lot of people underestimate me,” Mateo admitted, tossing him a smirk. “Always fun to prove them wrong.”
Zion chuckled as he readied his weapon and stepped up next to his companion. Two more zombies approached, still a little ways ahead of the main horde of twenty or so that had broken off due to Calvin’s firing.
“Hang tight,” he instructed, holding up his weapon. “I wanna show you who you are partnered with.”
Mateo playfully extended his hand, presenting the duo of ghouls to Zion, who headed forward. He stopped about five yards away from the two monsters, who kept stride with one another.
Zion put the large weapon on his shoulder like a bat, playfully pointing to left field like he was Babe Ruth calling his shot. When they got close, he swung with all his might, catching the creature on the side of the head and driving it through its partner.
The blow partially disintegrated the zombie’s head, sending a splatter of blood through the air. The corpse crashed down on top of its partner, trapping it for a moment. Zion stood over it and drove the tip of the weapon into its face, crushing it.
Mateo playfully tapped his two metallic weapons together, praising his new friend. “Impressive,” he declared. “However, I need to remember to keep a few feet back so I don’t get caught in the backswing.”
“Good call,” Zion agreed.
They looked towards the warehouse, seeing twenty-five or so creatures moving towards them, easily twenty yards away. The pack was fairly thick, with only a few feet between each group.
“So, what do you think?” Zion asked, wiggling his weapon. “I knock ‘em down, and you slice ‘em up?”
Mateo readied his blades, flashing and glinting in the sun. “Batter up, my friend,” he said.
Zion grinned and rushed forward towards the right flank of creatures. He quickly reared back and swung hard, catching a zombie in the ribcage and sending it tumbling back into several others. He darted to the left, extending the two-by-four in front of him and ramming it into the center of a ghoul’s chest and sending it back, staggering several more of its brethren and giving him room to tee up another swing.
Meanwhile, Mateo ran up, his cleaver swinging upward and catching a fallen zombie struggling to sit up in the face. The blade created a thin slit all the way up through the skull, cutting the brain clean in half. He stabbed down with the long blade into the forehead of another fallen ghoul, and then immediately slashed the head off of another with the cleaver in a deadly dance.
As he stepped up to the next group, Zion swung mightily one more time, knocking down another four creatures. He stepped back and tugged on his companion’s arm, pulling him lightly back towards the truck.
“Something wrong?” Mateo asked.
“Nah,” Zion replied, shaking his head. “Just giving them a chance to break up a bit. We are a two man wrecking crew, but there’s no sense in risking getting in over our heads.”
His partner nodded and backed up about ten yards. They waited patiently as the eight or so zombies on the ground staggered to get back to their feet, tripping up a few of their friends in the process. A few moments later, the horde of twenty had been broken up into smaller, more manageable groups.
“Let’s clear this batch and do the same retreat,” Zion suggested. “You ready?”
Mateo nodded. “Beat ‘em down,” he replied.
The two of them worked in tandem for several minutes, systematically dispatching the threat. Zion stepped up to the last creature that was trying to pull itself off of the ground after falling. He swung the hunk of wood like a golf club, catching the ghoul underneath the chin and ripping the head clean off. As the head landed several feet away, he let out a cheer and threw up his arms, celebrating the decent chip.
“Good distance there, my friend,” Mateo said with
