Survive: The Walking Apocalypse - Pt. 11

A deep, guttural groan reaches my ears, followed immediately by grasping hands and gnashing teeth. Surprisingly powerful jaws snap shut mere inches from my face. Lydia gasps in horror and I feel her hand pulling me back into the safety of the house. The zombie stares blankly at the empty spot I once stood at, clearly not registering my sudden movement. I back up further into the house and stumble over nothing, shock having weakened my knees. The noise of my fumbling feet catches its attention and it turns to face us. Lucy gets a good look at the figure and squeals at the sight of it - I don't blame her.

It's a young woman, slightly older than myself, her once brown hair now stained red with blood, her lifeless eyes drained of any colour they once had and replaced with hauntingly white orbs. Her jaw is smeared with blood and small strings of flesh can be seen dangling from her teeth. Most horrifying of all, is that her entire left side from the chest to just below her waist appears to have been ripped apart and chewed to the bone. She takes a careless step over the threshold, barring our exit. Lydia helps to pull me along and we scramble away from the intruder. Behind the walking carcass, movement catches my eye. At least half a dozen other figures make their way off the street, heading straight for the house.

I lower Lucy to her feet and grip the baseball bat with both hands, body tense with nerves. Without looking back, I ask, "Is there another way out of here?"

For a moment, Lydia doesn't reply. I give her a quick glance, not wanting to take my eyes off the slowly advancing woman. Lydia's mouth is hanging wide and her fear induced eyes stare ahead in disbelief. "Lydia!"

Her eyes snap back into focus and she nods quickly. "There's a back door."

"Take us to it, we can't get out this way."

Turning on the spot and dragging Lucy by the hand, I follow a running Lydia to the back entrance. Peering through a window, I see that it leads to a plain back garden. Flat grass and a couple flowerbeds is all it contains, free from any hedgerows or trees. Beyond the garden fence, an identical street to the one out front can be seen.

"Does it look clear?" Lydia asks, chewing nervously on her bottom lip.

The road is littered with abandoned vehicles, dead bodies and scattered debris. Garden fences, shrubbery and large trees from the neighbouring gardens obscure my view of the road, but from what little I can see, the street appears empty.

"I think so...it looks safer than the front at least."

Lydia steps forward and pulls the door open herself. "Good enough."

I push Lucy out after her and glance back into the house. The hallway is slowly flooding with them, the woman leading the pack. If I was to stay any longer they'd be upon me in seconds. Not taking any chances, I flee after the girls.

They wait for me at the bottom of the garden, Lydia clutching Lucy's shoulders protectively. My sister is becoming increasingly pale and shaking violently, but remains unharmed. I've just got to get her through this and she'll be fine. I hope.

A large wooden fence surrounds us, absent of a gate. It's not too big that we can't climb it. I take a running start and leap, lifting a leg over to straddle the fence.

That was my second mistake.

A small boy lays slumped on the other side, his back to the fence. At first glance, he looks to be sleeping or unconscious, but something doesn't sit well with me. There's a large chunk of flesh missing from his right leg, exposed by his beige shorts. Within a second, the boy's cast down head whips back hard against the wooden panels, his soulless eyes staring through me. Small hands dart up to my leg and attempt to pull me from where I sit.

I scream in surprise and topple sideways, collapsing into the garden. The metal bat I had held so fiercely slips from my fingers and is flung backwards, only missing the two girls by inches.

"What? What is it?" Lydia demands, panic taking over.

"There's a small boy on the other side of that fence."

"Alive?"

A rabid growling sound ensues and the fence begins to shake against the boy's hungry, clawing hands.

I gulp. "No."

Now I realise my third mistake.

I left the back door open.