Untitled

It was cold outside. Colder than the man standing in the alley had anticipated. His breath hung in the air in a fog, dissapating in time to see the decaying figure at the end of said alley raise a fist to the large gate blocking them from each other once more. The clang of the gate rang out and had been doing so for some time now, rousing the man and his companions from sleep and causing them to pack in a hurry.

They had gotten too close. It was time to move.

The man sucked in his lower lip, biting gently on his piercing and adjusting his hold on the pistols he grasped in either hand. He moved towards the gate, his thick soled boots making soft noises against the pavement but not enough to alert the many other figures looming behind the gate. Getting as close as he dared, the man saw there were far more than he'd initially guessed. It wasn't much more daunting, but he'd have to readjust his plan of action to allow for the extra bodies.

He released his piercing from between his teeth and counted silently, his lips forming the words One.....two......

On three, the man kicked out, breaking the gate from its not so secure lock and swinging it out to the people in the street. Or at least, those who had once been people. The sway when they walked and the gurgling noises they emitted told the story of those who had once lived and had become infected. They knew nothing but aggression now and the urge to consume. The man with the pistols wasn't interested in being the next meal.

Shots fired as he entered the crowd and three fell before the majority had even turned to face the commotion. He moved fluidly, like a dance he'd practiced many times before which wasn't far from truth. He ducked as one of them sent an uncoordinated jab his way and managed to slap another. The man would have laughed had the slap not revealed more of the decaying skin and a crack been heard.

He fired off as accurately as he could, counting the bullets remaining in his head. When he discharged the last bullet from the magazines, he reached to his belt for spare clips but paused when he heard the clang of the gate again and realized the rotting flesh was focused elsewhere.

"Having fun, are we?"

The man smirked at the familiar voice, backing up until there was a clear line between him and the undead. Behind him, three figures emerged from the alley where they'd been finishing the packing of their most recent safehouse.

"Figured I'd get started." The man shrugged, reaching up with a hand to sweep the blond hair that was threatening to cover his eyes and impede his vision. The companion to his right, a vivacious woman with purple streaks in her hair, had offered to cut it for a week now and for the first time since the offer was made, the man regretted refusing.

"You ready?" The man asked his companions as he reloaded his weapons, looking to each one to see they hadn't taken their eyes off the bodies steadily creeping closer.

The sound of a lighter striking was the only answer as a tall and rather hulking man took a place behind the blond and held the flame to a cigarette hanging between his lips. He claimed it helped him relax in a fight, but the blond suspected it was mostly so he could make campy one liners about when it inevitably fell to the concrete.

If the dead had any sense, they would have started running away the moment the large man lifted a sledgehammer off his shoulder and bounced it in hand, but no one had ever accused them of being intelligent.

One by one they became braver, moving faster and closer with every second. There had been a pause to the fight while they comprehended the increased meal potential but now everything was back to normal. The living gripped their weapons and headed in.

The blond had little to worry about when it came to the undead and much more to worry about when his second female companions started swinging her daggers around like she was some sort of superhero that just needed a costume. He'd doubted her in the beginning, but she knew where to hit and so long as each body fell and didn't get back up again, he couldn't complain on the how it happened.

A sickening crunch drew everyone's attention for a moment to where the weight of the sledgehammer had come down full force on someone's face. The grin on the man's face should have been offputting, but everyone just resumed their task of clearing the way in front of them.

More of the infected had started swarming, hearing the racket they must be making and the man with the pistols took a moment to swear before pushing into the new crowd. He was almost out and they kept coming.

To his relief, someone joined him in the new crowd and a flash of purple came into view before the sound of bullets firing from the submachine gun held in his companion's hands reminded him to keep firing.

They were rapidly warming up and the cushioned coats they'd thrown on were becoming a bit much. Another loud crash from the hammer would bring more of these infernal creatures and they'd have a full blown hoarde by the time this was even halfway done.

A click from his right hand brought the first stirrings of panic when the blond realized his clip was empty. He looked to his friend nearby and she seemed to know what he wanted. Reaching with one arm, she pulled him in front of her, kicking one of the rotting beasts away. She reached to her hip for the extra ammunition she carried for her own pistol of the same brand currently stored in her backpack but before she could get it to him, one of the creatures reached for her from behind.

He acted without thinking, dropping one of the pistols to clap a hand over the girl's left ear and fire the remaining bullets in his second over her shoulder. She'd still be hearing ringing later and he saw her wince at the shots, but at least she wouldn't be dead. Hopefully.

They exchanged a look and she pushed the spare clip against his chest before hurrying off to clear the approaching figures. He picked up his empty gun and slid it into a side pocket on his coat for now, reloading the one still clasped in his hand.

"Hey!" He shouted, drawing everyone's attention to him, which was probably not the wisest thing to do. "Clear and run, go!" He waved his hand towards the street to the right of their safe house alley which led to a lake. If they could find a boat there, they could use it as a temporary safe house until they found a shore not crawling with these fetid individuals.

Priorities changed and they focused the attention on the blockade to the right. It wasn't too hard to break through since the majority seemed to be coming from the left street which led further into the city. No surprises there. There was no time to grab the extra ammunition from the bags so they increased their pace. Running now instead of walking. Sparse shots and swings of the hammer to clear the way instead of to eliminate the crowd.

They could hear each other breathing over the monotonous moans of those around them, panic making it harder to run straight. One of the kills managed to trap a dagger and the once enthusiastic woman was wrenched to the ground when she failed to notice in time. Rather than tug it free, she released it and kept running. The wood of the dock was visible now and the undead not nearly as fast as they were.

Loose locks of hair caught the sunlight previously hidden behind buildings and the blond man nearly tripped when he reached the planks leading to the lake. He half ran, half stumbled his way to the edge and looked around. A boat was passing, but none were docked, so he swung his arms above his head wildly in an attempt to signal for help.

A shout of surprise rang out from the crowd as the weight of his hammer slowed the sturdy man down and he felt hands tugging at his backpack. His companions turned to watch, bracing to run back in but a horn distracted them. The boat had seen them. It was pulling closer.

Steadying her footing, the woman with purple streaks let loose the remainder of her clip into the crowd clinging to her friend and as they dropped to the ground, he hauled himself towards them as fast as he could.

The boat wouldn't dock, the driver knew the risks, but one of the passengers was waving at them to jump as they swung by. One by one they lept in, the blond tripping over the side and landing hard on his shoulder, but still safe. The hum of the engines picked up again and the boat sped away from the city.

"Two left feet." A hand extended itself to the fallen man and he allowed himself to be picked up by his submachine wielding friend.

"Oh shut up, we made it." He replied, jovial now that they were out of immediate harm.

"Those bastards took my last cigarette!" The heaving man currently trying to calm his breathing rifled through his bag for a spare pack but found none. "I'm gonna go ask the driver if he's got one."

And there was the quip about cigarettes. The blond man smiled, sighing and letting his breath hang in the air as it had earlier, this time momentarily covering up a dock with a party of very confused undead unsure of where to go next.

Guess we should figure out where we're headed too, he thought to himself, turning to venture below deck and ask whoever had saved them.