Nineteen - Day 9

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     The zombie clawed at Shawn in her mindless frenzy to kill. Trapped on the ground in a very compromised position, it was taking all of his concentration to keep her filthy teeth away from his flesh. Bony fingers topped with ragged nails scratched at his chest and neck.

"Stop!" Rushing forward, I raised the kitchen knife in my hand menacingly. In hindsight, yelling at the zombie wasn't my brightest move. Up until then, she had been focused solely on the body struggling underneath hers. But my yell drew her attention to my approach. Swinging bloodshot eyes my way, she screamed again, making me hesitate.

I'd never even considered any sort of violence against another person before in my life. Even if the woman in front of me was already dead, I still hesitated to attack her. Taking a weapon and using it against another person went against everything that my life had ever stood for.

Apparently torn between killing the body she already had pinned, and going for the one standing feet away, the zombie shook her head like a confused dog. She watched me for a long second with unblinking eyes, before making her decision.

The allure of prey that she already had trapped proved too much. Dismissing me, the zombie returned to her attack on Shawn. Her momentary distraction had allowed him to get a better grip on the bat that he was using to hold her back. Despite her clutching at his shirt with determination, I saw that he was making some progress, driving her face a few precious inches further from his own.

The demonic sounding hiss that she unleashed raised the hair all over my body. Sweat ran in rivulets, sticking my shirt to my skin and making my already clammy hands slick. Now that I was no longer faced with the dead stare of the woman, I found it somehow easier to readjust my grip on the knife and inch closer. If she wasn't staring at me with those too human features, I thought that I might be able to do the unthinkable.

"Kill it," Shawn hissed at me when I finally made it into his view.

Looming over the top of the struggling pair, I could clearly see that he was going to lose the battle. It was only a matter of time. The zombie was just too strong. She was unfazed by the length of wood pressing into her chest in a way that should have been painful. She didn't appear tired in the least. Instead, she continued to pull herself toward her goal with determination.

I raised the knife. Go for the head, I reminded myself. It was a lesson taught by every zombie movie I'd ever watched, and only enforced by the things that I'd seen in the last week. What should have been mortal wounds to other areas of the body had failed to even really slow the zombies down. The only one that had been stopped was the zombie from the office kitchen, and only after a hard crack to the head.

Aiming, I brought the knife down.

I learned something in that moment. Putting a knife through a skull is not as easy as it looks on TV. The knife met her head and skidded along the bone with a grinding sensation that made my stomach churn. An ugly gash opened up in it's wake, too thin blood immediately pouring out to run down the back of her shirt.

Swinging around, the zombie glared malevolently at me. Hissing, she let go of where she had been clutching at Shawn's shoulders and twisted her body. I watched with wide eyes as she gathered herself to lunge my way.

I reeled back, trying to get out of her reach, but already knowing that I was not going to be fast enough. A hysterical sound escaped my lips as I watched the zombie flying toward me, mouth gaping open and blood stained teeth on display.

When she suddenly jerked to a stop and flopped unceremoniously to the dirt, I stared uncomprehendingly. I had been sure that those gruesome teeth would be the last thing that I would see.

Shrieking, I watched as the zombie flung herself back around. Toward the leg that Shawn had managed to grab, stopping her lunge to kill me.

He had had to drop the bat and use both hands to grip her foot. Now, sprawled across the dirt on his stomach, he was in an even worse position than before, completely unable to defend himself in any way.

Still hanging onto her limb, he managed to make it awkward for her to swing around and attack him. That split second, when they grappled for control on the ground, was all I needed. Adrenaline surging, I stopped my backward momentum and flung myself forward. This was it. If we didn't manage to kill this zombie right now, I knew deep in my bones that at least one of us would not be escaping this confrontation still alive.

Raising the knife again, I plunged it with all of my strength down toward her filthy head. This time, the blade bit into the bone. The knife sunk into her skull, and the zombie fell instantly limp.

Kicking away from the body frantically, Shawn scrambled backwards before managing to pull himself to his feet shakily. "Holy shit," he gasped as he leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees.

"Are you ok?" I circled the body warily, afraid that it would somehow come back to life and come for me as soon as my back was turned.

Standing up straight again, Shawn began searching his arms for any evidence of a bite. His shirt was torn at the neck, and dots of the blood that I had spilled with my first knife strike flecked the material. Grass stains covered his jeans and his hair stuck up wildly in all directions. He was paler than I'd seen him yet. But thankfully, neither of us found any evidence of her teeth having made contact with his skin.

"I think I'm ok," he sounded understandably relieved as he patted his hands across his own face.

I felt my shoulders sag at the words. I had no idea how we had managed to escape this time without any bites, but I was thankful.

Turning, I looked at the zombie. She had been middle aged. A t-shirt baring the camp logo twisted around her shoulders. She couldn't have been dead more than a couple of days judging by the lack of decomposition that I had noticed yesterday while we drove through the masses of zombies in the city. "I guess now we know that there was someone here." We had been wondering since we arrived the day before if there had been anyone else hiding here. Now we knew. I wondered if there had been more than this one woman.

"Thank you."

The quiet words made me look to my side, where Shawn was still standing, staring at the zombie with an unfathomable look on his face.

Finally breaking his stare, he turned in my direction, his eyes meeting mine.

But those eyes weren't what drew my attention. Instead, I felt my gaze pulled toward where the rip in his shirt had shifted, giving me a glimpse of a trio of deep scratches that had been gouged into his shoulder.


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