(Feel free to give comments and critiques I would love to hear what you think! It's my little attempt at writing about a girl surviving the Zombie apocalypse on her own )
I might have pitied her.
I pressed my ear to the door and listened. The wood was rotting and moist, foul from the rain that got to it from the now broken in roof. I could hear the slow clop of feet coming nearer in a staggered rhythm. I quieted my breathing. I gripped the hatchet tighter and raised it, stepping back from the door with the utmost care in my feet. The slightest creak of the floorboards would attract the bastards’ attention. I had to be quick and silent to make it out of a gold mine like this old shack.
The steps were just at the door.
I reached for the door knob and twisted it, pulling it wide open to reveal the rotting figure of what once might have been a respectable young woman. I didn’t hesitate digging my axe into her jaw, spinning her off balance and forcing her back. She let out a gurgle and a screech, nasty black clots of blood dripping from another open wound on her neck. I could see the teeth marks where another lurker had feasted upon her flesh.
I raised my axe again, this time with a stronger stance and two hands on the handle. She was done.
I pulled her from my blade with a disgusting schulp, dirty blood dripping from the silver end. It repulsed me how used to the blood and grime on my skin I was. I would have killed for a shower, had the water not have stopped working.
I scanned the walls for cabinets and stepped through broken down little kitchen I’d been seeking. I moved quickly, unzipping my backpack and setting it down on the dusty counter. There was no time for dilly-dallying if I knew that there were lurkers creeping about. The cabinets had been thoroughly torn and searched, except for a bloodstained corner cabinet left half open. I let my imagination tell a story. Some other looters must have come through looking for scraps like I had, but ended up caught by a few of the lurkers. My second thought went to the woman lying in the hallway. She could have been part of the search party.
Too bad she’d turned, or else I might have pitied her.
I glanced down at the sink hopefully and twisted the nozzle. This was what was important now.
My looting had been successful though- a can of yams, two cans of water chestnuts, a half a bottle of water, and a pair of nice sheers and duct tape. I stuffed them into my backpack and jogged out of the house, my ears tuned into the sounds in the front yard. I’d seen them through the kitchen window, two hobbling by the big oak just ten or fifteen feet from my bike.
I could make it.
As soon as I leapt from the porch steps they were onto me. With my hatchet in hand I sprinted for my ride, ignoring the groans and hisses that were nearing me from behind. They didn’t hobble quickly, but they weren’t slow, either. I took my bicycle by the handles and ran with it, the little stand kicking up after a moment before I hopped on and took off. The groans began to multiply behind me, but I paid no mind to them. I’d found myself some food for the next week or so and that accomplishment fueled my hope.