Radiation Point

Forty Seven

The moment for my hesitation was over. I had to do something; had to force my shaking hands to move.
I still gripped my gun in one hand and took aim at the climbing undead. The first one I shot fell to the ground with a thud, but that action only seemed to energize them more. They made a mad rush to the tree, climbing one on top of the other to reach the first branch.
I couldn't let them reach me. If they made it up to my branch, no amount of ammo would save me. I fired round after round, picking off the contaminated as they climbed. But as one fell, two others would take their place.
They didn't climb up the tree the way I did, using hands and upper body strength. They simply piled on top of each other, stepping on each others shoulders and faces to get closer to their prey. And it was working.
The horde of undead was getting closer with each passing moment and although each round found its mark, the sheer number of contaminated left me feeling doomed.
Finally, they had staggered and piled up to the base of my branch. They gurgled and groaned in excitement. With shaking hands, I gripped my gun in one hand and my knife in the other. My breathing ragged, I focused on keeping my balance as I teetered on the high branch. Undead hands grasped the branch, as they hurried and pulled themselves up to meet me.
I fired shot after shot, hoping to thin the masses, but the entire army was climbing this one tree. The lines of soldiers who had stood at attention abandoning their posts to climb and fight for the prize. Me.
The click of my gun alerted me that I was out of ammo. I reached behind me for the bag of ammo that Tyler had left me with, but the spot was empty.
Peering wildly around, I turned just in time to see the bag slide of the branch and into the horde of waiting undead. In the bags place, a single undead hoisted himself up onto my branch, his face spreading into a wide toothy smile.
Tossing my gun to side, I gripped the base of the tree for support, using my other hand to lunge at him with my knife. My knife found its mark in his head, sending his body crumbling to the ground, bringing the undead below tumbling with him.
My mind and my heart racing, I looked wildly around me. It was a hopeless battle. No matter how many undead I kicked from the branch or pierced with my knife, there would always be more. I only needed to get attacked by one to be torn from the tree and meet my death.
A thump next to my head made me jump and nearly fall from the tree. Behind me a contaminated stood, its head smashed against the tree with the shaft of an arrow.
For an instant, my heart lifted above panic of the horde of hungry contaminated.
Tyler.
He was standing inside the gates of the camp, firing arrow after arrow at the contaminated. I met his eyes for a moment, before turning to the contaminated around me, fighting them with new vigor.
The horde was thinning as arrow after arrow pierced them, along with the tip of my knife. I was beginning to see an escape route through an opening of undead when the arrows stopped coming.
It was only the reach of my knife that was killing them. Blood splattered and exhausted, I froze. Where was Tyler? Even if he ran out of arrows, he would shoot his gun, and if he ran out of ammo, he would come charging in with his knife.
The camp held my answer. It was crawling with contaminated. I couldn't tell if they were regular contaminated or the evolved undead that me, but it didn't matter. The sheer number of them put Tyler at risk. He was shooting arrow after arrow at them, pulling the arrows out of the bodies and reloading his bow. Still they shambled closer to him. He had to get inside. He would never made it if he didn't.
"Tyler, go," I yelled, the words being torn from my mouth on their own accord.
His head snapped up at me, surprise on his face.
"Go inside," I yelled, realizing that was the only way. Tyler couldn't save me and save himself. His only hope was to buy time inside the camp.
For a moment, I didn't think he would listen. But then he nodded. He met my eyes for one final moment, whispers and words of goodbye in a single glance.
Then he turned and ran to safety.
Leaving me surrounded by undead, who used my moments of weakness to regain leverage and climb back up the tree. I was surrounded once more and this time I didn't have a way out.
I had waited too long.
The branch shook with the weight of another body climbing on.
It was another undead, another evolved monster.
But he didn't do what I expected.
He didn't lunge and bite.
He walked, perfectly balanced on the limb, one foot in front of the other.
My heart pounding, I gripped my knife, sweat making my hand slide across the handle. I had to attack. I had to kill him. But the look in his eyes made me slow.
He was calculating and cruel. His eyes more intelligent than the rest. He seemed to be telling me that he wouldn't just kill me, but torture me.
The moment had come for movement and I responded by lunging at him with my full weight.
His lips split into a toothy grin as he did the unthinkable.
He dodged and I went tumbling over the side of the branch and into the pile of waiting undead.