They’re coming after me & they’re smarter & faster
than I expected them to be. God, they’re using tools. One of
them has a meathook in his left hand & his entire left arm is caked
with dry blood. I keep thinking I can out run or out smart them,
but there are a few more each time I look behind me. They can outlast
me. I know that. So I duck into a house that fortunately or
unfortunately no one else is hiding in. I’m hoping I might be safe
here with the lights out. That sitting still in the corner
of the living room will save me. I can still see from the light of
the streetlights & the front door is one of those ones where the top
half of it is glass. I can see the shadow of it on the wall as the
arm & meathook rise & smash the glass out. It uses the hook
to help it jump through the opening & it’s as agile as a cat.
If I still had a gun I’d shoot myself in the head at this point.
I don’t know if I can survive this one, much less the hundreds out in the
streets of the city. I jump on him & wrap my right hand around
his fist holding the meathook & shove my left hand in his face.
He bites into my palm & rips the hook halfway through my hand before
we even hit the floor. I land on top of him & drive my knee into
his stomach as hard as I can & his teeth let go of my left hand.
The fall made him lose grip of the hook & it’s stuck inside my hand
so I shove the point of it into his left eye & bang it in deeper with
my free fist. The fingers in my right hand don’t even work anymore
& I pull the hook out & I have it in my left hand when I see another
one at the door. This one’s clumsier & is kind of bent over at
the waist half in & half out trying to fall through the opening &
I kick the back of its head three times smashing it against the door &
it stops struggling. I go into the kitchen & turn the light on
& clean my hands as much as I can & tie my right hand back together
with a garbage bag. I hear the deadbolt from the front door unlatch.
This is it. This is the end.