Wake of the Dead | Two

Chapter Thirteen | Jasper

There was no time to count just how many biters had turned towards the patrol's direction. With a quick sweep, Jasper could only guess half a dozen at least. He would have originally made a plan for the group to sneak around them in a wide arch as quickly and quietly as possible, but it was too late for that now. Not wanting to waste any bullets, Jasper instead gripped the tire iron at his belt. Reddish-brown blood stains covered the end of the metal; seeing it gave Jasper a strange sort of nostalgia for the times he and Killian fought off biters on their first journey together. He'd missed using the tire iron, in a strange way.

There was no time for reminiscing, however. Not when the undead were hungry--and faster than anticipated. One was already leaping towards him before Jasper could think of what to do. He barely managed to swing and bludgeon it in the head as the creature was mid-leap, jaws snapping and gangly arms reaching towards him. The creature let out a high-pitched, hair-raising screech as it hit the ground with a hard thud. Chris quickly dispatched it with a swing of an axe to its face. The biter's skull caved in, its whole body going limp and its jaw hanging at an unnatural angle.

Another biter came at him, this one even faster than the last. Jasper barely moved his tire iron in time enough to catch the biters across the face. Blood sprayed on the ground beneath them as he stumbled back. This creature, unfortunately, was a large one. Jasper liked to think of himself as athletic, but this biter must have a been a massive gym rat when he was still alive. It towered over him, plowing into his shoulders and knocking him onto his back. Rocks and debris scraped against his skin, the burst of pain and sound of shattering glass as Jasper landed on an old beer bottle. Holding the tire iron up horizontally, he barely managed to stop the massive creature from tearing into his face.

Stubborn as a mule, the biter persisted, locking its jaws around the metal and shaking its head. To Jasper's dismay and shock, it clamped down, ripping the bar from his hands to the side a few feet away. A normal biter would have just kept at it, snapping its teeth onto the metal repeatedly. No, this one had actually registered the obstacle in its way. With the blood roaring in his ears and adrenaline pumping through his veins, the true horror of the situation made him feel sick. This...thing. It wasn't as stupid as the rest of them.

Kicking the biter full-force in the stomach, Jasper barely had enough time to stagger to his feet before the thing barreled him into a tree, knocking the breath out of him. As his head snapped back and slammed against the hard surface, Jasper's ears rang. Whatever glass was left in his back after his fall on the broken bottle dug farther into his skin. He could feel hot, sticky blood soaking through the back of his shirt as a sharp branch scraped against his ribs. Gritting his teeth, Jasper held up his arm to the biter's throat just in time to push its face back enough to avoid its jaws.

Now, he was face to face with death. All he could do was strain, using all of his strength and adrenaline in a desperate attempt to hold this monster away from him long enough for somebody to come to his aid. The breath was caught in his chest, the stench of death stuck in his throat and making him feel sick. The dull snap of teeth gnashing together and his own heartbeat were the only things he could hear. After what felt like forever, his strength was beginning to ebb. The biter's teeth got closer and closer, until it was the only thing he could see. Jasper slunk back, preparing for the inevitable pain.

Just as quickly as he'd thought he was going to die, the weight disappeared. Killian's angered, rage-fueled curses broke through Jasper's daze. The smaller man threw a knife into the creature's skull from a distance, running up and jumping to grab it again, dragging the knife down its skull and through the back of the neck. His eyes flashed with a dangerous fury that he had grown to know and love. Especially now, when it had been needed most. Killian nonchalantly hopped out of the way, ripping his knife from the biter's skull before it hit the ground with a hard thump.