The Zombie Apocalypse and Me

Chapter 32: Good luck, Danny


We stood together at the entrance to the store. The glass doors that were in the halted process of being boarded up seemed intimidating; After all, they held the entrance to the daunting, cold outside world which had been overpowered by mindless cannibalistic beings.  And standing there, ready and waiting to yank the doors open for us as quickly as possible, two nervous looking men. But we ignore them for the moment; they don't matter right now.

We stand in a row, all six of us: Andy, Me, Megan, Tasneem, Kate and Danny. All sporting guns for protection. I feel nervous and there's this great big knot of terror in my stomach. Glancing around at the others, I could tell I wasn't alone when it came to fear. We were all about to go out into a violent and terrifying danger where none of us had a definite chance of survival.

So to say we were nervous was the lightest way of putting it. Of course, on the outside, we didn't appear as stressed out as we felt. Although, even the small smiles of reassurance couldn't hide the fact that we were scared. Yet despite being petrified beyond belief, the idea that anyone of us could be the next to lose their life, a limb, mind or friend, none of us backed down. We were going to get out of this mess.

And together. The people in this store, Josh and other survivors (although they may not know it) depend on us. Six teenagers who had sworn to come back for everyone here. We may not have realised it at the time, but somehow we knew: If we could save these people, what was to stop us from saving other unfortunate souls that could be in the same situation? Nothing other than ourselves. Our fear.

And that was why we were risking our lives with the wild notations that we could all be heroes and save the world. Maybe not all of it, but what we could, we would.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Andy lick his lips anxiously and give me a shaky smile.

"Try not to get yourself killed, Nerdy." He taunts.

"I wouldn't have to sacrifice myself so often if you could shoot better." I jibe.

We laugh. A side effect of the nervousness we feel before the life and death situation in front of us. I look to my right. Megan smiles a nervous smile and squeezes my hand (which she had been holding since we gathered here).

I squeeze back and without thinking lean forward and kiss her cheek. I didn't care whether Andy saw or not; I figured I'd rather be killed by him rather than any zombie. It can't have been more than a second or two when my lips touch her warm cheek but when I pull back she smiles sweetly, a smile, I realise, that I had always loved about her but just hadn't known until now, when I suddenly know what it means.

I face the doors and take a deep breath to calm my nerves. It was now or never, I guess. I take a step forw-

"Not yet."

I pause. What was Andy waiting for?

And then I hear it.

Loud and growling... and getting louder still. Instantly my head snaps towards the noise, outside, hoping it's not what I think it is. It better not be what I think it is.

"Andy..." I say, but don't finish. It can't be. He didn't. Please, somebody tell me he didn't-

"You fucking did."

The screech of burning rubber on tar is all that matters to me now. The two people standing on either side of the doors throw them open. Without thinking, without having time to think, I run. Every one of us runs, with me and Megan still clasping hands.

The moment everyone steps out of the doors, they swing close and lock – no going back now.
I'm in a sort of daze. I can't believe the fucking moron did this.

My attention is brought back to me as the warmth of Megan's hand slips from my own, only to be replaced with the cold metal of my gun: a Glock G17. Two of them to be exact: one in each hand.

'He must have known it would have attracted this much noise!' I think, frustrated as I take aim and shoot another bullet through another skull.

A deafening blast from Tasneem's Remington 870 whizzes past my ear and in to the forehead of a zombie fatally close to me. I need to be careful and watch my back:  Now is not the time for thinking, now is just the time for acting.

It feels like forever: bullet after bullet is fired as we try and make a direct bee line for the car. Shenaz and Dave stand in the back shooting at the oncoming mass of zombies. I lose sense of time but am aware of everyone and everything happening around me.

Danny's on a roll. It's almost insane. And he's not afraid to get up close and personal. Of course with his weapon of choice, it's not like he has any other option. The revving of his chainsaw is muffled, but only because of the amount of zombies he's surrounding himself with, not the distance between us; in a few strides (and about two dozen zombies) I could be in contact with him. But seeing the crazed look in his eye as he slices another after another in half or more, I have a feeling it'd be best if I kept my distance.

Kate has made her way to the car, getting an advantage on distance and viewing field on the zombies below her. I can't see Andy which, for a moment worries me, until he stumbles into view covered in sprayed bits of blood that wouldn't have come from a gun – he must have been near Danny.

Once again, I can't help but look at Danny. But this time instead of admiration to what I thought was bravery or perhaps courage, I feel sick; He's enjoying this. And an even more sickening feeling overwhelms me when I see him.  He's covered- no- drenched in blood, with a deranged look in his eye which gleams with pleasure as he saws another zombie in half, despite getting splattered with more blood.  He smiles and I can't help thinking how demonic he looks.

It judders repulsively as its blood is brutally dispersed and then it falls, unmoving, to the ground. 'He isn't doing this to save himself,' I think, as I see if go off in search for another victim (not that he has to search far as they unknowingly sacrifice themselves to his mercy to satisfy their hunger.) 'And he isn't trying to help them like I am, either; he's just...slaughtering them.'

And as much as I try to think of as different word to describe it, that words suits the situation perfectly.

All these thoughts pass through my mind in a matter of seconds, but the loss of concentration is all it takes. I'm pushed to the ground roughly by a larger zombie, dropping one of my Glocks. I don't even have a clue what colour skin they might have had before; all I can see, and smell, is blood. This zombie must have had a feeding frenzy recently- the smell is awful.

I wrestle with it and frantically try to get it off of me until I see that this zombie is actually dead, as is noticeable by the gaping hole in the back of its head. It feels disgusting but I ignore it, wrench it off me, find my gun and shoot another zombie, all in the space of about half a minute.

There are more zombies now, but I'm closer to the car. Again, I'm unsure how much time has passed, although it feels like forever. Someone yelling my name brings me out of my combat/ fighting-for-life state of mind.

It turns out I'm a lot closer to the car than I thought and am proved when I'm savagely yanked up into the back of it by Kate and Shenaz. It looks like I'm the last one...
"Sarah!" Dave commands. "Drive!"

She doesn't need telling twice and the car is jerked into gear and picking up speed fast.
"Wait!" I yell, struggling to stand against the movement. "Danny!"

Danny is the only one not in the car, and, as I am finally able to stand, I see him still around the area of the store.

"DANNY!" Andy bellows. "We're leaving hurry up! We have to go, NOW."

Danny looks up, remembering what he was doing outside in the first place. But instead of joining us on our way out to freedom, he looks back at his zombies as if weighing up a decision. His decision is clear when he turns back towards us and shakes his head sadly.
"I can't!" He calls back. "I have to keep fighting. They killed everyone, my family! I have to stay."

And I can see it in his eyes that he won't be coming back. He's going to fight until they kill him. It's what he wants.

I place a hand on Andy's arm as he lifts it to his face to reply, stopping him. He looks at me questioningly but I just stare until he gets it and he stops. He knows. Everyone does.

The last thing anyone sees, before we escape to freedom, to survive another day, is our friend, Danny, fighting bravely on behalf of his family, like he had silently promised them from the very moment he knew they were doomed.

'Good Luck, Dan.' I mutter under my breath. But I know: I will never see him again.