Love, Lust and Zombie Guts.

9

Here you go, enjoy it. Tell me what you think, ya?

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I tried to get round the other side of the RV before I got surrounded, but walkers were coming from all directions, and I didn’t have the time to get round there before they reached me. I bent down to pick up my bat, but my hands grasped at air. Fuck. I left it in the RV. How could I have been so stupid?

I pulled out a pistol from inside my jacket, the bullets wouldn’t last very long, but I had a knife too. All I could hear from the other side of the camper was the groans of more walkers and the screams of the women and children who couldn’t defend themselves.

Aiming the pistol at a half naked woman I pulled the trigger, remaining as calm as I could. If I panicked I would make mistakes. I knew that.

Each walker I shot down, I took in at least a few details of. It felt wrong killing someone, something, without knowing at least what they looked like before they turned into these monsters. I line my gun up with the head of another walker, it felt like I’d shot hundreds, but I knew I didn’t have enough ammo for that. I’d lost count how many I had shot tonight, it felt like more and more were coming by the second.

I slowly pulled the trigger as I took in the missing nose and a hole through one side of his chest. It was repulsive, but I had to end it, before it ended me. Completely pulling the trigger I was met with a click.

Out of ammo.

I knew it was coming at some point, but it happened at the worst possible time, at least three walkers would be within biting distance in a few seconds.

I fumble inside my jacket for my knife, immediately pulling it out and stabbing a walked that was too close for comfort. She slinks to the ground and another one immediately takes its place.

The whole world feels like it’s slowed down, perhaps because I know I’m going to die here, or because the adrenaline pumping through my veins gives it that impression.

When I die tonight, and I know I’m going to die, there’s simply too many walkers for me to fend off by myself, but I won’t go down without trying, at least.

I won’t give up.

I ferociously stab a walker in the neck, knowing full well that it won’t kill, but hoping it might give me time to stab another one through the eye.

Blood is being splattered all over me, but I have no time to care, I have to keep killing. I’m about ready to give up this fight, though. Just to let them bite me, I’m covered in enough blood and guts that I probably am starting to smell like them, just not enough. Or they would have left me alone. I stab another in the head, and try to pull it out, but my knife gets stuck.

Someone really hated me. I’m not strong enough to pull the knife out of the walkers head, its well and truly stuck.

I suck in a sharp breath, suddenly fearful of what the end might bring.

I’ve wanted to die so many times in my life; I’ve come closer to death than this before, and not wanted to look back. But at this moment in time, I’m certain that I want to live.

It’s funny; before the world turned to shit, I wanted to die, I even ended up in hospital because I came that close to succeeding, but was found before it was over; but now, now that the world has gone to hell, I’m one hundred percent certain that I don’t want to die. I want to live. And not just because dying means becoming one of those half lives, no. Because dying means never being able to live again. Dying means that I’ll never be able to talk to any of this people I’ve met, I suppose I could even call friends.