When he reached the front desk, he looked outside and saw a small wall of creatures moving back towards him, drawn by the handgun fire. He hesitated, knowing he’d never survive fighting his way out.
He slid across the hood of the car, landing a quickly throwing open the door and leaping inside. He secured the locks and hit beneath the jacket again. He breathed heavily as one of the zombies reached the car, hands smacking wetly against the windows.
Okay buddy, he thought, I did my part, now hurry up and do yours so you can come rescue my ass!
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bryan watched his friend careening through the crowd of zombies in the sedan, disappearing into the lobby of the hotel. The bulk of the zombie horde in the parking lot began to turn around to follow the vehicle, prompting him to ready the hunting rifle.
He took aim, honing in on the back of a zombie’s head and firing. Due to the distance and darkness, he missed badly, but it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that the noise got the creature to turn around and head towards him instead.
“Come on bud, you can do better than that,” he berated himself, and aimed again. This time his bullet punched through the zombie’s face. He didn’t stop to admire his handiwork, instead immediately firing at the next monster.
After four quick shots, he lowered his weapon to get a read on things. The majority of the zombies were heading towards him, dozens of them, all shambling across the lot, the closest being fifty yards away.
“Well, at least this part of the plan is working,” he muttered, and fired a few more times before pausing to reload.
With his gun ready for action again, he stood up to begin retreating. He scanned the lot and made sure every single zombie in sight lumbered towards him. He ran across the street to the back end of the restaurant. The door had been completely removed, and it was a bit larger than a standard doorway because it was for deliveries.
He darted inside, did a quick sweep to make sure it was still clear, and then took up position in the open doorway. He aimed his gun and fired a few more rounds, making sure the undead knew exactly where he was. As he stood and waited for them to get there, another bomb went off in the distance.
“Hopefully they’re getting the job done up there,” Bryan murmured, and took a deep breath as the horde got within ten yards of the door.
He backed up, remaining in the hallway leading to the kitchen, to continue to make sure the creatures knew he was there. “That’s it!” he called. “Come and get some!”
The first zombie made it to the doorway, with several others excitedly approaching behind it. Bryan walked slowly backwards into the kitchen, a large area that could have easily housed a dozen line cooks.
The monsters filtered into the building, and he fired off another shot to make sure the others kept on coming. The round hit a zombie in the shoulder, not slowing it down even a little.
Bryan reached the swinging doors to the dining room and kicked down the doorstop as he backed through it to make sure they stayed open. It took several minutes, but a few dozen creatures found their way into the dining room. He made his way over to the front door, waiting on the horde to get a little thicker before bailing out.
When they were within breathing distance, he turned to leave, but several zombies pushed against the glass from the outside. He snapped back, pulling up his gun and firing. The bullet shattered the window on the door, dropping the zombie, but freed up the space for several more to push into the gap.
Bryan stood there, petrified and dumbfounded, until a rotted hand grabbed him from behind. The grip was tight, but his reaction was to jerk away, narrowly sparing him from a lethal bite to the face.
He shoved the zombie back and retreated around the empty space on the side of the dining room. He frantically flipped tables towards the growing mass of creatures, buying him precious seconds. He looked around, seeing zombies coming down every available avenue of escape.
He contemplated just making a run for the fire exit near the kitchen, but there were easily a dozen creatures blocking his path. As he frantically looked around, the zombies backed him into the corner.
Panic set in as they grew closer. He finally turned around and began firing wildly at the windows. Three quick rounds pierced one, shattering it, and he ran as hard as he could towards it, putting his foot on a booth cushion and diving forward.
The glass wasn’t completely clear of the window, several shards cutting into his arms and stomach as he flew through it. He landed hard on the ground, the wind flying from his lungs, and he laid there, gasping for air.
At the sound of footsteps, he struggled to flip over and aimed his rifle from the hip.
“Whoa, whoa!” Mateo cried, raising his hands.
Bryan dropped the rifle with a gasp of relief, and Mateo and Fingers knelt down to help him up.
“Jesus, man, are you okay?” Mateo asked as Bryan staggered to his feet.
He looked down at his wounds and winced. “It’s not a bite,” he said through clenched teeth. “I took a header out the window and took some damage.”
Mateo studied him for a moment, checking over his wounds just to be sure.
Bryan grunted and shoved them away, bracing himself on his knees to catch his breath. “Christ man, you can strip search me if you fucking want to,” he spat.
Mateo raised his hands again, nodding. “It’s all good, man,” he replied gently. “Can’t be too careful, you know.”
Bryan nodded, his anger fading, as Fingers stepped away to the front of the restaurant. He shook his head at the huge hole in the door.
“Supposed to be a
