“No point reloading,” Abe reminded her. “Guns don't work.”
“Better than what you've got,” Bea replied. “What's that in your other hand, a spike?”
“They're not freaking vampires. Use the damn chainsaw, why don't you?”
“I can't,” he whispered fiercely. He hoisted the chainsaw high. “They'll hear it!”
“At least with the chainsaw, there's some certainty,” Bea said. “At least--”
Abe held a hand to her face. “Wait. Hear that?”
The alley was dark, so progress relied on careful attention to noise. Abe could hear the shuffling, scraping tread of the zombie swarm ahead of them. He took a step back out of habit. Bea wasn't behind him, so she must've already been in retreat, working back the way they'd come.
It was no good, they'd have to find another way out.
He took two more steps back but then behind him he heard a whump.
Bea was gone.
No, she wasn't gone, she was under the zombies. The zombies had come out of nowhere.
The zombies had come from the sky.
They were all over the roof. They were falling, no, they were diving. And they'd spotted him.
She didn't answer. She was dead meat.
Abe dropped the stake and hoisted the chainsaw above his head. He braced it against his body as it screamed into service, the teeth spinning on the chain.
The first zombie came at him, face first from the sky. Abe twisted on his heal, taking the weight of the zombie on the very tip of the chain. It's skull practically exploded on impact but the mouth still worked, gumming the air.
The zombie was on the ground, the chainsaw embedded in what was left of it's head and dragged down by the zombie's weight.
He yanked the chainsaw out of the motionless zombie and drove it into the next nearest zombie, right through it's intestines. He had to put a foot against the squealing zombie so he could get the saw out again.
He swung wide. He'd been right about the noise. The swarm they'd been avoiding was right behind him now. He took out a handful of them with one wild swing.
He staggered back from the swarm and fell.
He fell and the chainsaw came with him.
He fell on something soft and hard. Bea and her gun.
He angled the chainsaw away so the cutting chain fell away from him.
The chainsaw snagged on Bea just as she sat up with those too-bright zombie eyes, the flesh of her face gnawed and hanging loose.
He scrambled backwards on his arse. Bea watching him go with her milk-white eyes.
The chainsaw was lodged in her shoulder, grinding away her arm. She shuddered with its motion. She was still human enough to bleed, great rivulets streaming dark through the dark air. But she was zombie enough to wrench the chainsaw free.
And come for him.
“Humans vs Zombies” copyright © 2014 by Deborah Biancotti
by Deborah Biancotti