The cracks in the windshield spidered across the glass.
The zombie
was determinedly battering away, attempting to get through, splattering him with
was blood.
Again, he
tried to start the car, and again nothing but the whining of the starter.
The hole
was large enough for the creature to stick its head through and began snapping
at him, rancid spit flying.
He pressed
himself against the seat, his right hand scrambling for anything he could use
to end this piece of walking, rotting flesh. His hand stretched for the glove
box and he felt the rough texture of the Maglite.
Raising the light, he smashed it
repeatedly into the creatures gapping, salivating mouth. Swinging it as hard as he
could, he dislocated its jaw, sending it flying into the passenger seat.
With a final swing, he connected with
the side of its head, breaking through the exposed skull.
Its tongue stopped flapping, its arm
jerked sporadically, and it was still. He pushed open the door, falling to the
pavement, gasping.
The sun could just be seen. Reaching
into the car, he grabbed the rearview mirror and some towels from the backseat.
He noticed two long scratches running down his face.
Oh. That's so sad.
ReplyDeletescratches means he's going to be a zombie now too, right? he was so close... I felt the tension of this scene all the way through. very good!
ReplyDelete