Trust your gut.
A theme that, before Z-day, seemed like a cliche.
It appears in movies, tv shows, books, hell even documentaries. Everything screaming to trust your baser instincts. Trust in that feeling in your gut that makes your insides quake and squeeze and feel as if someone was grabbing you by the middle and wringing you out.
A feeling that makes you sweat, makes your mouth feel dry, makes your heart beat louder than the environment around you. Your body's own scream to warn you.
Yet why must it be a fault of humans that we, more often than not, ignore it?
I gulped dryly, watching my feet cast waves in the puddles I ran through. Not bothering to care about the sudden dampness I felt running down my leg from where it splashed high enough. Ahead of me were the two boys. Both gripping tightly onto their weapons as their stomps echoed in loud fragments on the pavement.
All around us were low groans, the sound of of thumping, and sounds of gasps. Dormant bodies awaking once again from the smell of fresh meat.
"We'll have to enter through the west entrance." Richard spat out. Soon taking a hard right which caused me to struggle to prevent from slipping. Panting soon being released on my breath as whatever snarky remark I had loaded up was now sprawled behind me. Too focused on trying to keep up with the long strides each men had.
"Wouldn't that bring us further from the offices?" Bryce cried out, expertly dodging an outstretched Z. Richard shot him a look before turning back ahead, pointing his gun causing the both of us to look at what he was gesturing too.
There was a large pod of undead. Teeth and hands gnashing as they wandered aimlessly in and around where the south entrance was. What lies in the middle, where the largest cluster is, was a churned and still smoldering hunk of metal. The smell of burning rubber still hung in the air, just underneath the smell of fresh rain.
I found myself clicking my tongue at the sight. I knew that the explosion from earlier would've caused attraction to the Zs, but the fact that they haven't left yet was troublesome.
Up ahead, Richard grunted as he used his momentum to slam a near by body to the ground. The body splashing and writhing as we ran past it. The closer we got to the entrance, the more bodies we threw to the ground. A bread crumb trail made out of groaning corpses. Just as we reached the entrance, we paused.
Unfortunately, there was a group crowding around. I gulped and turned to the other two who seemed to had the same idea. All of us looking at one another to see what the next move is.
"We should go around." Bryce offered but I shook my head.
"I'll bet my ass that we'll get the same results."
Richard growled, eyes gaze staring upwards at the building. Perhaps imagining where his base was?
"We'll just have to mow through them."
"Wait-" But he didn't listen.
He ran forward and bum-rushed the closest Zs. Taking swing out of swing as they slowly turned towards us. I cursed, following suit, and used my own momentum to throw more of them off with a simple swing of my bat.
Around me, bodies dropped in the tune of shots firing. I could only deduced that Bryce was taking the long ranged approach.
"Shit," Richard hissed as the threw a body to the ground and made quick haste to stomp on the head, "Fuck! There's so many."
"What do you expect?" I panted back, grunting as a satisfying crunch erupted from the skull of a Z as I slammed my bat against it.
"Fuck this. We have to move." Bryce said, pulling ahead and firing round after round. Rushing through and leaving a small gap for us to follow him with. I scrambled after, trying to switch out my bat for my machete, as Richard followed close behind me.
For a while, that was our formation. Bryce mowing down as much as he could whilst the rest of us slashed and slammed anything that came too close. The sounds we made almost reverberated off the walls only to be answered with groans.
We scaled across knocked over displays and broken glass. Kicking skeletal remains, voices whispering as we passed, and watched the way the walls were repainted with dried blood. Had this been any different, had I came here by myself on a quiet day, carefully stepping around each debris, had I actually came to see how much change there was, I would've been in awe.
To see such a staple from back then be turned to this state.
But today is be the today, and perhaps it won't ever be.
"The escalators right there. Here, Marie," Richard called as all of us stopped right in front of a mass of a barricade, "You get up there first."
The two guys soon turned to help me vault over the various office furniture turned on it's side. Had I had more time, I would've praised their ability to barricade this area so well. With a grunt, I pulled my self up and over. A soft thump sounded as I connected back with the ground.
From behind me, the familiar thud that came with Bryce was all the more comforting. Yet, as we both stood up the comfort left with quick haste. In front of us was the tips of make shift spears. Created out of sharpened broom sticks and the like. Two spear men stood in silence as they pressed forward. Anger boiled in me as we soon were pressed against the pile.
"Richard!" The man next to me called out as the older man finally dropped to us. I tried making a move, wanting to turn to glare, yet all this did was cause the closest spear men to press his weapon into me. I gulped and stared at the person on the other end. Like Richard, he had a gas mask on as well. Through the eye sockets I saw a fierce hatred threatening to spill out onto the floor.
"Call them off." I sneered, side eyeing at their leader who rolled his eyes. With a simple 'click', he allowed his mask to slip off. A smug smile crossing his face as the spear man on me backed off. His stance a bit more at ease as he cocked his head to the side, wordlessly voicing confusion.
Richard just smiled and nodded at them. Holding a hand up as he stepped to be side to side with the two attacks. The pit in my stomach growing as he turned to us. Seemingly at command to whether our end will be here or not.
But that time never came.
"Not them. Weapons down."
Both men stared confused at their leader but all he did was smirk in return. Soon he signaled for us to remove our masks. With one last look at Bryce, I let out a shaky sigh. Shaking hands slowly pulling the helmet off and, once more, feeling relief as an unseen draft blew through the tuffs of hair I had on my head. My companion pulled his bandanna down, opting to scratch at his beard, as he stared unamused at the situation.
Our reveal produced soft gasps.
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