Undead Enemy

• Nicholas Quinn, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2014

Duck, weave, run, jump, slide, crouch, hide, kick, push, hit. These basic thoughts flashed through my mind as I ran down the street, the enemy on my tail. The enemy wasn’t human, not anymore. The sickness destroyed all human functions, turning them into shambling, flesh eating zombies. I can’t explain why I wasn’t affected, I’m just an ordinary guy and there isn’t time to find out. Not yet anyway. Now there is just survival. And survival is everything.
They found my shelter, just an abandoned house but it was better than anything. It was where I met Jim. But, he’s dead now. And I’m alone. When the zombies broke through the door, he told me to get out and that he would hold them off with his club. I wasn’t about to leave him but the zombies began piling through the narrow door and Jim’s club couldn’t hold them all back. One zombie clamped his teeth onto Jim’s neck and he fell. Zombies began amassing upon Jim, desperate to get a taste of flesh and blood. I could’ve tried removing them, but I knew it would be useless. The bite to his neck was fatal; I could tell. And if not then those zombies would finish him off. I made his death worthwhile and got out of there while I could. Back on the street, the zombies began creeping out of crevices and abounded houses, in search of the smell of the freshly spilt blood. The undead began clogging up the main road, so I made a left into an ally way. There was a truck taking up the whole ally way. I couldn’t go back now. I ran up to the truck to see if I could climb over. Now that I was closer, I could see a small gap between the wall and the truck. I might just make it through this. I slipped through the gap. Bam! My face impacted with the ground, blood gushing out of my broken nose. I must have tripped. I rolled over to see what I had tripped on. Staring back at me with glassy eyes was a zombie with a mischievous grin on his face. Its face was covered in boils and yellow pus seeped from its nose. The one ear was dangling down the side of his head held on by the thinnest piece of skin, the other missing. Its cloths were torn and stained red with blood. It was staring at me with one foot outstretched towards the back of the truck. It was smart enough to trip me! How did it know I was coming this way? I began crawling backwards, away from this monster. I looked behind me. Zombies were entering through this side of the ally to. I was trapped! I looked back at the zombie who had tripped me. It was making rasping sounds; almost like it was laughing. I closed my eyes, picturing Jim.
“See you soon Jim.”
And the zombies began feeding.