The climb up the drive way was littered with the walking dead. I tossed my bat back and forth between my hands anticipating the first strike. I looked behind me and saw Quinn had recovered enough to have my back. He was swinging his sword in figure eight’s with the look of a rabid badger. I could see the street ahead of me and the zombies that were blocking my path. They weren’t moving quickly so I decided that I would be able to take my time. I approached the first zombie; he dressed in a gray suit with a red tie on a white shirt. His hair looked at though it was combed to the side earlier in the day but had been tussled by a lover. A dead lover. When I was within five steps of him, I got a running start, and swung at his decaying face. He went down quicker than a Mike Tyson knock out. For good measure, I raised my bat and slammed down into the bridge of his nose. One down, four to go.
Alice, or so I will call her, since she resembled the nanny on the Brady Bunch with her blue dress and white apron was about ten steps away from the zombie businessman. Her neck was bloody from teeth marks and it stained her apron, looking as though she had been cutting chicken heads off all afternoon. She moved like an old woman and I was able to sashay to her right and swing at her temple. She crumpled to the ground and Quinn automatically sliced her head off. I guess he was getting bored watching me create my highlight reel. As we stood side by side, we took an inventory on zombie people. We only saw the three remaining people on the drive way and then the coast looked clear, at least ahead of us. There were zombies behind us near the house and wandering about in the yard, but at their pace and distance, it would take five or ten minutes to reach us. Two of the zombies ahead of us were side by side as though they were competing in a foot race to eat our brains. I asked Quinn if he could handle them and he said he would. I would take the squat Newman-esque figure just behind them.
I watched as Quinn ran at full sprint in between the zombie pair, while crouching down to avoid their strikes. The two zombies weren’t able to react quickly enough and Quinn did a quick swipe of his blade through both of the zombie’s necks. Their heads rolled down the hill and stopped at my feet. I dry heaved. Quinn gave me a flex of his muscles and turned towards Newman. This guy had to weight about 300 pounds but stood about 5’8. His curly, pubic-like hair was brown on top of his head. His ugly forest green and brown checkered sweater was smeared in blood. He wore Asics shoes that looked long worn down. Quinn tried to go in for the kill but tripped, the zombie was able to wave him aside with his short, stumpy arms. I ran up and tried slamming him in the head with my bat. I missed his head and slammed down in his right shoulder. Newman groaned and reached for me. His hand grabbed a hold of my shirt as he tried to bite down on me. This fucker was strong and it was obviously time for his after-dinner snack. I tried to wiggle free but his grasp was too firm. I could see Quinn over his shoulder as he plunged his sword directly through Newman’s back and the blade came through his chest. The blood spray was awful and it smeared my glasses. I could feel the warm blood on my face and I tried to avoid getting in my mouth. Newman still had a hold of me but he was looking at the hole in his chest. He remembered that I was his meal and moved again to bite me. I guessed I had dropped my bat in the whole ordeal because Quinn swung at the back of his head. Newman fell to the ground which forced me down with him. Quinn sliced Newman’s arm off to free me and offered me his hand. As Quinn pulled me up, I puked on his pants. I guess I did still have something left inside of me.
