Chapter 4 #2
Shouts and yells echo from the other side of the warehouse as Tobias’s and Rhys’s group start their own fight.
The stench of blood, rot, and gore thickens in the air, along with the squelching and grunts of battle.
I hear a feminine yell that makes my heart stutter, my mind conjuring images of Ollie being hurt as the first zombies finally shove their way through the doorway.
All thoughts leave my mind as I slam my knife into the eye socket of the undead in front of me, killing it instantly before moving onto the next. Alex does the same, dispatching zombies with brutal precision. Behind us, our group hangs back, their fear thick in the air.
“Get your asses over here!” I bark at them as I kick a zombie that had almost reached me back before slamming my knife into its rotted skull. Only for another to take its place seconds later. “If any of you cowards get me killed, I’m haunting you for the rest of your miserable lives!”
That spurs them on. They shuffle closer, sticking to the edges, and with a hesitation that’ll probably get them killed, they start taking down the undead.
After that, the battle becomes a blur of hacking, slashing, and stabbing.
Blood and gore flies everywhere, coating us in a thick paint of black and red that makes my eyes water from the stench.
But no matter how many zombies we take down, more take their place.
The doorway becomes clogged with bodies—both dead and undead—and the infected clamber over them, their eyes glowing with hunger and their moans becoming desperate.
Fuck. How are there still this many left?
“This is going to be a bitch to clean afterwards,” I say as I step back to avoid a particularly grabby set of zombie hands before jabbing my knife into its eye socket.
Alex just grunts.
I grind my teeth in frustration. Fuck it. If he’s going to be a grumpy bastard, then I can at least use this time to get through to him. “Are you mad at me?” I demand as I spare him a glance.
He doesn’t answer. Not that he needs to when he stabs a zombie with more force than necessary, causing the skull to explode like rotting confetti.
My eyes narrow. “You are mad at me. Why?” I dodge a flailing zombie hand and stab at it as I try to think of what I’ve done to piss him off, only to come up empty. “What did I do?”
“I’m not having this conversation right now,” he growls, sounding exactly like Rhys as he kills yet another zombie.
“Why not? It’s not like we have anywhere to go, and I’m not going to stop asking until you tell me.” See? I can be stubborn, too, asshole.
He shoots me an incredulous look. “We’re in the middle of a bloody fight, Theo! This is not the time.”
I scoff. “We can fight and talk. I’ve seen you do it before.” To prove that point, both of us slam our blades into zombies at the same time, like we choreographed it or something.
“No, Theo. Just drop it.” And then the bastard just moves away, forcing another member of our group to take his spot.
Rude.
Unfortunately, one of our group members chooses that moment to lose concentration.
They step back and trip on a fallen limb, crying out as they crash onto the blood-stained concrete.
A bony, rotting hand wraps around their leg and yanks them towards a gaping maw.
Apparently, someone didn’t make sure their zombie was dead dead before moving on.
The guy shouts and struggles, but the zombie’s hold is too tight and no one else is in a position to help as they’re dragged closer to their doom.
“Fuck!” I kill the zombie in front of me and dodge several grasping limbs as I scour the floor for the undead that’s trying to turn my group member into dinner. I find it trapped beneath a pile of corpses, missing its legs and one eye. With a swift stab to the head, it releases its hold on the guy.
The group member lies there, stunned as he stares at the hand loosely wrapped around his ankle.
“Move!” I snap at him as I yank my knife free and move back to my spot.
And just in time to take down an undead that had been shuffling towards Alex’s back. The man in question turns, sees how close the zombie was to him, and inclines his head in thanks.
Fucker still isn’t talking to me.
With a huff, I focus my attention back to taking down as many zombies as possible.
I’m not sure how long it takes before I slam my knife into the last zombie. My arms ache and my clothes stick uncomfortably to my sweat and gore covered skin.
“Everyone still alive?” I call out as I shove my knife back into its sheath and turn to face the rest of my group.
They’re all looking a little shell-shocked—eyes wide and unseeing and their bodies trembling from the adrenaline—but they all seem to be in one piece.
Although it’s kind of hard to tell since they’re also covered in rotting blood and gore.
I glance at Alex, relieved to see that he’s fine, even though he’s scowling at the ground like it wronged him.
“Everyone alive out here?” Rhys calls as he steps through the door, looking as exhausted and dirty as we are.
“We seem to be,” I answer as I sweep my eyes across the sea of corpses, not recognising anyone amongst the dead.
“Um, is it over? Does this mean we’ve cleared the place out?” one of the guys from my group asks.
I really need to learn their names.
Rhys glances around before nodding. “Seems like we got them all.”
Thank fuck. I really need to wash this gore off me; my skin is starting to itch.
“Theo, Alex, make sure all the infected corpses are moved to a more discreet location so we don’t tip off the Scourge to where we are. My team will clear out the bodies inside the warehouse and set up camp.”
I swallow a groan. Clean-up duty is the worst. I turn to my group. “You heard the man. Let’s get these bodies moved.”
Some members of the group balk.
“What? But we just finished fighting!” one says, outraged.
“Yeah! We need to rest, or at least get this blood and shit off us!” another one says.
Several others shout in agreement, while others just roll their eyes and get to work.
I take note of those who start moving bodies without complaint as the others continue to moan and complain about being tired and feeling disgusting.
And I get it. I’d much rather get clean, grab some food, and collapse into my sleeping bag.
Maybe see if I can convince Ollie to cuddle.
But we have a job to do, one that is important for our survival.
“Come on,” I say as I bend to grab the ankles of a rotted corpse. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can wash off and relax.”
As I drag the corpse away, several of the group grumble, but I hear the sounds of them grabbing their own bodies to dispose of.
A weird conga line of people dragging dead zombies forms as we haul the bodies away from the warehouse and to a small grassy area behind a crumbling wall.
One by one, we deposit them there, although I quickly take note that not everyone is pulling their weight.
And no one’s happy about it.
Alex glares at the ones who drag their feet, as do other members of the group, and the tension thickens. The adrenaline from the fight has long left us, and with everyone aching and tired, frustrations are mounting. I need to diffuse this before this powder keg blows.
“Alright. Everyone can go inside and get washed up. I’ll finish up out here,” I say with a sigh. There are only a few corpses left, and while every part of me is screaming for rest, keeping everyone in our group from killing one another takes priority.
Sometimes I hate being responsible.
The ones who’ve been complaining and dragging their feet immediately drop what they’re doing and leave. The rest hesitate, but I wave them off, and they quickly follow until only Alex and I remain.
“You can go too,” I tell him as I grab another corpse and start the journey to the dumping ground.
The other man grunts but doesn’t leave and instead helps me. Much to my relief. While he may be pissed off at me and refusing to talk, he still has my back. He’s still my best friend, my brother in every way that counts.
Even if he’s still being a grumpy bastard.