Theo just chuckles again, the prick. “I’ve known that man for most of life; I’m not wrong.”
I open my mouth, ready to retort something back when there’s a loud bang outside, followed by a flash of colour that illuminates the entireroom. We swing our gazes toward the window as darkness swallows the room again, only for there to be another bang and flash of light.
What the hell? Are those fireworks? Harlow whines at my feet and shuffles closer to me, not a fan of the loud noises.
“What the fuck?” Alex groans, having been woken by whatever the hell is going on outside.
Theo releases my hair and stands. I follow just as the thumping of feet on hardwood stairs echoes through the house. A moment later, Rhys emerges with a grim expression on his face.
“We need to movenow. The Scourge are outside, closing in on this location. If we don’t leave in two minutes, it’s not just the infected we’ll be worrying about.”
To punctuate that, several gunshots ring out from outside, followed by more bangs and lights, each explosion growing closer. It’s enough for everyone to get their asses into gear as we race to pack up what we can.
A window somewhere in the cottage smashes, followed by the sound of voices and boots on hardwood. We exchange grim expressions as we reach for our weapons; the guys and their handguns and me and my knife.
The only way out is to fight. And hope the zombies don’t get us.
Fucking Shotguns
Rhys
I’m silently cursing myselfthat I didn’t spot the Scourge before they were already upon us. But the chestnut-haired beauty that waltzed into our lives over a week ago distracted me. And now I’ve put my friends, my brothers, in danger.
All because I can’t get my shit together.
Guilt burns my chest as glass crunches beneath heavy boots and voices echo somewhere in the cottage. All of us scramble to take up defensive positions within the room we commandeered for the night as the voices grow louder. Alex and Theo draw their handguns while Ollie grips her knife. Beside her, Harlow stands, snarling, her white fangs luminescent in the dark room.
Since we’re in such close quarters, I use my handgun instead of my rifle. While the barrel is shorter compared to our usual service rifles, it’s still too unwieldy for the tight corners of this tiny house.
I just finish running last minute checks on my Glock when the first gang member staggers through the door with a bright shaft of light coming from the torch he’s holding. I react first, putting a bullet in his skull before he can even react. His body crashes to the ground, along with the torch, which illuminates the room in a soft glow.
I grab the torch. “Stay behind me,” I bark before striding out of the room, using the torch to light the way through the pitch black cottage. We need to get out of this death trap before more arrive.
The crunch of glass beneath boots is all the warning I get before I see the barrel of a shotgun pointing toward me. Lifting the light, I blind the guy pulling the trigger and dodge to the side just as a shotgun blast explodes in the tiny space. The shot goes wide, buckshot embedding into the wall on my left and causing plaster and debris to rain down on us.
I hear a feminine yelp behind me but don’t dare look and instead aim and shoot the shotgun wielder in the head. He drops to the ground and the gun clatters, causing a second shot to burst out from the barrel. Pain explodes across my shoulder and left arm as tiny pellets rip their way through my flesh and muscle.
“Fuck!” My hand spasms around the torch before dropping it with a thunk. Hot blood soaks through my shirt and jacket and dribbles down my arm to drip onto the floor at my feet.
“You hit?” Theo asks behind me. “Or are you just shouting obscenities for the fun of it?”
“Hit. Left arm and shoulder,” I grit out.
“Alright, well, try not to bleed out or pass out before I can get my hands on you. I don’t want to carry you like a damsel. You’re heavy as fuck,” is Theo’s sardonic reply.
“I’ll try not to,” I retort drily before surging onward down the narrow corridor toward the back door of the cottage.
Only for said door to burst open and the predatory gleam of an infected gaze catches my eye as it rushes through toward me. My eyes water and bile burns my throat as the pungent stench of human waste and decomposition assaults my senses. The infected’s jaws yawn open as it reaches me before I can raise my gun to shoot.
It grabs my useless arm with a rotting hand and slams the hand holding my gun into the stone wall. My hand spasms and the gun clatters to the ground, swallowed by darkness. I shout as agony slices through me. I try to pull away, but my injured shoulder refuses to obey, leaving me to stumble almost blind with pain as the infected yanks me toward it.
“Rhys! Fuck!” I hear Theo say behind me as the infected lifts my arm towards its mouth.
A shot rings out, the sound deafening in the tight space. The infected drops my arm just centimetres from its mouth and collapses to the ground in a rotting heap, a bullet hole in its head. I suck in a sharp breath, not letting my mind linger on just how close to death I just was, and drop to find my gun.
As I stand, a hand lands on my good shoulder. “Let me take point before you get yourself killed or bitten,” Theo says, or rather, orders, before brushing past me and stepping over the corpse of the infected.
Unfortunately, before he can reach the door, two more gang members emerge from the darkness. Thankfully, they’re only armed with a knife and a cricket bat covered in barbed wire. Theo doesn’t hesitate as he lifts his handgun and puts a bullet into the brain of the first man while I shoot the second.
