The zombies quickly lost interest in him as the mercenary continued to fire, and Dante made it to the roof. He ran across as fast as he could, heart pounding at his series of near-deaths, and crouched when he reached the front edge.
There was more gunfire in the street, and he peered over the edge. The SUV had been abandoned, and four mercenaries stalked towards an alley across the street where, presumably, Ace and Brandt were.
Dante took aim with his handgun, carefully focusing on the head of one of the guys in the back of the quartet. He fired, and managed to clip his target in the shoulder, and the entire pack whipped around. Before he could aim again, one of them spotted him.
“The roof!” the mercenary screamed, and all three not injured pointed their assault rifles at him.
He jerked back from the edge as bullets peppered the tip of the building. Hopefully he’d given Ace and Brandt enough of an opening to regroup. He crawled away from the edge and then stood up into a crouch, heading down the row of buildings. The downtown core was a strip of buildings, so the roofs all connected, and he was hoping he could find a way down in a strategic space.
The shotgun wasn’t going to do well at long range—what would be ideal would be to grab a fallen mercenary’s assault rifle. He skidded to a stop and changed directions, heading back towards the building where the soldier had been firing at him while he was on the dumpster.
He had to hop the alley that he’d run down when he was outrunning the SUV, but it wasn’t too big of a gap, and then he crouched, creeping to the edge of the building. He heard moans, but no gunfire, and looked down to see them feasting on the mercenary. While he was happy the ghouls were doing his job for him, it would be difficult getting a gun off of a fresh zombie.
Some of them were slowing down, it seemed, but the newly reanimated ones were at full steam. Dante shook his head and then moved to the front of the building, taking stock of what the other four were up to.
Nobody was on the main road, save for a few ghouls tearing across the street to the alley the mercenaries had been fighting with. He looked down at a series of metal bars holding the sign out front of the building and spotted a busted sedan beneath it on the sidewalk.
Dante hooked his legs over the side of the roof, balancing on one of the bars and testing its sturdiness. Satisfied, he crouched and wrapped his hands around it, lowering his feet to one of the bottom ones. He managed to climb down and hang, with only a few feet between his boots and the sedan.
He dropped down, but as soon as his boots clanged on the car, moans erupted, and zombies swarmed from around the building.
Dante pushed off of the car, sliding down to the road and pumping his legs. The shotgun clattered to the ground behind him, but he left it, glancing over his shoulder at the horde of ghouls chasing him. He made sure the handgun was secure as he ran, and dove through an open door, pulling it shut behind him. He threw the deadbolt, wincing as the bodies slamming into it on the other side made it groan.
As he turned around to sweep whatever store he’d ended up in, a body slammed into him. It didn’t smell like death, only blood, and the angry grunt that came from its mouth told him it was a life human, not a zombie.
“I’m going to skin you alive, pretty boy,” the mercenary snarled, his fist connecting with Dante’s face.
When he regained himself from the surprise of the attack, Dante wedged his knee up between them, pushing hard against the soldier’s gut. He scrambled to draw his knife, but he couldn’t reach down, so settled on gripping the man’s throat.
They tussled on the ground for a few moments until the mercenary managed to jab Dante into the side enough times to wind him.
His grip loosened on his attacker’s neck, allowing an opening for another brutal blow to his face. He swung wildly, and gave a great heave with his knee, managing to connect with his attacker’s ear and throw him off.
As he gasped for breath, he managed to draw his knife, backing up enough to regain his senses before they met again.
The mercenary didn’t waste time, throwing himself back towards Dante, who raised his blade at just the right time to drive it into flesh. He didn’t hit a vital organ, unfortunately, but buried it deep enough into the man’s shoulder that it distracted him with a scream of pain.
Dante twisted the knife and then drew it quickly, shoving the mercenary back and then slashing across his throat. As his opponent gurgled and choked, he stabbed him through the eye socket, not wanting to take a chance that he’d been bitten.
The mercenary’s lifeless body crumpled, and the door began to buckle beneath the weight of the ghouls outside. Dante rushed for the back of the store, now realizing it was full of candy. He had the vague thought that under different circumstances, he would have loved to collect up some watermelon gummies for Grace, and then marveled at how random his thought process could be in times of stress.
He found the back door just as the front began to crack under the pressure and inched it open. He spotted one lone zombie a few feet away and didn’t hear any gunfire. The sound of glass and wood shattering from the front of the store spurred him on, and he burst into the alleyway, lunging to bury his knife into the back of the
