Infection

Chapter 33 - Coffee Table

There were five of them, teeth bared. Will only just managed to pull me out of the way by the scruff of my neck, throwing me beyond their reach. Suddenly we were both separated, the infected between us. With barely a second to think, I sprung to my feet, fleeing down the corridor, watching Will disappear up a flight of stairs. Great, not only did I have those creatures after me, I had lost Will. Okay, think Eve think! There was no use using the pistol, it would only attract the horde and I was lucky not to have more of them on me. Loose these two, then wait back at the car? Well, it was a plan.

Glancing behind me, I spurred forwards attempting to gain some distance with little result. They were relentless and steady, my fear being the only thing keeping me two steps ahead. Not a fear of dying, a fear of becoming one of them. Death was the easy way out.

Spotting a large furniture shop, I headed straight for it, hoping to find a back door I could slam in their faces, or at least something to slow them down. I could already feel the familiar pain in my legs, reminding me of my mortality, and I didn't fancy facing them.

Another glance behind me and I was tumbling into the store, grabbing the nearest glass ornament and lobbing it behind me with a satisfying howl. Now to cause as much chaos as possible with as little noise.

Eying an approaching mirror, I noticed the two had split off, taking separate direction to converge on me. Why did these things have to have brains! Grabbing the mirror on my way past, I flung it at the nearest one, watching it smash ineffectively against a bookshelf. I was going to have to do better than that to survive this, I was running out aisle.

Thinking fast I stupidly veered left, picking up a pillow as I balled into the mutilated monster, taking it by surprise. That 'surprise' giving me enough time to trip over the next sofa, and crash into a glass coffee table, shoulder first.

Hot fiery pain shot down my arm, causing me to cry out as I fell through into a pile of broken glass, knowing that within in-moments they would be on top of me. With no other option available I grabbed the largest piece of glass , turning to face my foe as it flung its self mercilessly over the sofa. With bared teeth, I thrust the sheet of glass threw it mouth, forcing myself to hold onto it as it cut deep into my hand, my arm shacking with exertion. I could feel Its body pressing me into the mesh of glass as I fumbled for a second 'knife' to plunge into his heart, bits of glass digging into my scalp.

I screamed, screamed like I never had before forcing every muscle in my body to maintain its stature for one more minute, one more minute! Blinded by tears I finally found what I was looking for jamming it into its chest and dragged it down, spilling its guts onto my sweat soaked clothes.

Feeling it go limp, I let the glass clatter to the floor silently sobbing. Out the corner of my eye, I spotted the second one waiting motionlessly at the edge sniffing rapidly. Confused, I stayed completely still, feeling the gooey innards slip off of me with a squelch, barely managing to prevent myself from gagging.

After what seemed like an age, the monster began shuffling away back the way it came! Had it not seen me... smelled me? I was covered in zombie Juices. The guts must of save my life! Giving myself a quick sniff, I smelt nothing but... nothing? I should be grateful, it would probably of knocked me out clean.

Groaning, I let the corpse flop to the floor, taking an arduous deep breath. Next I began the daunting task of dragging my worn body out from under the coffee table, using my hands as little as possible. There was still a chance of getting infected, if I wasn't already.

Shaking the glass from my hair, I wormed my way up onto the sofa, gritting my teeth. Every part of me cried out in protest, but I knew if I didn't keep moving I would be dead within the hour. Forcing myself into the upright position, I let my vision settle before I assessed the damage.

As far as I was aware my jacket had taken the brunt of the glass, leaving my skin untainted, but my shoulder continually throbbed from the impact. My hands were a different story, dyed red with blood, which continued to persistently flow out the long deep cut on my right hand. Feeling faint I grabbed the maroon blanket that lay on the back of the chair, attempting to rip it. Wincing, I tore a section off, my hand throbbing with pain. Using my teeth I managed to wrap the makeshift bandage around my hand, pulling it tighter and tighter, only increasing my discomfort. Shakily I tied it off, the material already damp with my blood, but it seemed to have done the job for now. Time to go.

It took every fiber in my being to get me to my feet, forcing myself onwards, forcing myself to live. With every step I took I gained more confidence, supporting my frail limbs with the furniture, the pain ebbing into the background. Somehow I managed to break into a sluggish run, tumbling back into the deserted corridor and straight into the wall. I had to find Will, screw the plan. Dragging myself along the wall, I headed back to where I'd last seen him, finding the dome room practically empty, a smashed car balanced on its nose. Where had they all gone?

As if in reply, I heard the familiar boom of Wills weapon as he came into view on the second floor, the infected surrounding him. I could only stand and watch as he grabbed the nearest one and threw himself off the balcony without even hesitating. Suppressing a gasp, I rushed over to salvage what was left of him as he landed, pulverizing the creature beneath his weight.

Ignoring his misshaped leg, I grabbed him by the armpit and hauled him across the floor, pushing aside the paroxysm in my arm. The Infected had already started flooding over the barrier, causing the ground to shake beneath me and my ears to be filled with the sound of breaking bones. I didn't dare look over my shoulder, willing myself forward while dragging my incapacitated friend behind me, my muscles burning.

The toilets, that was the plan. The toilets, merely ten metres away. Relieving the pistol from its holster, I dared to look back into the heart of hell, terror consuming me. I would scream if there was a gap between my breaths to do so, every nerve in my body on fire. It didn't matter where I shot something was always at the receiving end and merely inches away. I just kept backing up, mashing the trigger till my magazine was empty.

Hitting the disabled toilet door hard, I threw the pistol aside, rushing Will in before slamming my body against the door. With the last of my strength I battled it shut, severing fingers in the process. Flicking the lock, I slid to the floor, paralyzed, barely maintaining consciousness. Everything seemed so distance, so surreal, the shrikes and howls of the infected slowly ebbing into shrouding blackness.