Dead Sea

    Taking a deep breath, I raised the pistol and shot the first zombie-the one with the eye socket full of worms-in the throat. Blood, flesh, and maggots spun through the air. I'd been aiming for his head. That left me with one bullet, and the fucker was still coming. He staggered a few more steps, almost close enough to touch. His head tilted to one side because of the damage I'd done to his neck. It didn't matter. Cursing, I darted from the door and ran the gauntlet. The creature reached for me as I sped by him, his thick fingers clawing at my shirt. Fabric tore. I shook him off and danced away from his friends while he stuffed the torn piece of my shirt in his mouth. The girl spun and tripped over her own feet. The dead man with the cut wrists moaned unintelligibly, and then fell overtop her. The two corpses sprawled in the road.

    Running for the other side of the street, I couldn't help but laugh again. They were so clumsy. So… stupid. All I had to do was keep moving and not let them touch me, and I'd be fine. Outthinking them was no problem. Neither was outrunning them.

    Being outnumbered, however, had its disadvantages. And a second later, I found that out.

    More of the creatures blundered into the area, attracted by the gunshot. Before I could reach the curb, they had me surrounded. The stench was brutal. My laughter turned to a scream. I glanced around, frantic, but there was nowhere to go. Just that quickly, the odds had changed. They swarmed toward me, grasping and clawing, gnashing their stained teeth.

    And then the odds changed again.

    "Hey, mister." A child's voice; sounded like a boy. "You'd best duck unless you want to get shot!"

    I couldn't see the speaker. Hoping that my last bullet would be true, I raised the pistol and aimed at the closest zombie. Before I could squeeze the trigger, a thunderous blast rocked the street. I jumped. There was a flash from the second story window of a nearby row home. The creature's head exploded, splattering the creature behind it. The second zombie licked the gore from its lips. Luckily, none of it had landed on me.

    A girl's voice shouted, "Malik, you could have shot him!"

    "I told him to duck. It ain't my fault if he gets hit."

    With a yell, I lowered my head and plowed through the zombies, shoving them aside. It was like pushing slabs of meat. Several toppled over. A few more grabbed at my clothing, ripping it further. I wrestled free of them and ran for the row house where the gunfire had come from. Another blast rang out. I heard something splatter behind me. It sounded wet. Dead footsteps padded after me. I waited for a third shot, but there was none.

    "It's stuck!"

    "Push down on it," the girl hollered.

    "I can't."

    "Give it here."

    "Stop pulling on it!"

    Wondering what they were yelling about, I jumped up onto the concrete stoop and tried the door. It was locked. I turned around and the zombies were drawing closer. Over their stench, I caught a faint whiff of smoke. The fires were getting nearer, too.

    "Hey," I shouted, still unable to see the kids. "Unlock the door!"

    "Can't," the boy hollered back.

    "Why?" My voice cracked.

    "You're a stranger. We ain't supposed to open up for strangers. You might be one of them child molesters."

    The dead clambered onto the sidewalk. A few of them had trouble negotiating the curb. One of them fell over, sprawling in the street. When it got up again, I noticed that its foot was twisted all the way around, the toes pointing behind it. Some of the creatures moaned, but most of them were silent. There was no hint of intelligence in their expressions-just raw, naked hunger. Need. I fired my last bullet and the closest one dropped. My ears rang from the shot.

    "Please," I screamed. "Let me in."

    The children didn't respond, and I thought that was it. I was dead-and then I'd be undead. I pulled my knife, trying to decide if I had the balls to slash my own throat before the creatures reached me. Wondered if I could stab one hard enough in the head to penetrate the skull, and if so, if I could free the knife quick enough to do another one. But then I heard a rustling sound on the other side of the door. The first of the horde, a fat zombie with a broken rib poking out of his side, started up the steps. I slashed at him with the knife. It startled the creature. His mottled arms drew back, but then he started forward again.

    The door opened a crack. A young girl, maybe eleven or twelve years old, stared out at me. Her eyes widened when she saw the zombies.

    "Open up!"

    "You promise not to hurt us?"

    "Yes!" I had to strain to hear her because my ears were still ringing. "I'll promise anything you want. Just open the goddamn door right now!"