Alice ran as fast as her short legs would carry her. Her steel toed boots were beginning to rub blisters on the backs of her legs, but she couldn't care about that. Right now, there were perhaps a hundred of the hungry bastards on her ass. Some of them moved faster than others. While she didn't understand the differences in their speed and apparent agility, she understood one thing: If she didn't outrun them, they would kill her.
Her shotgun slammed against her shoulder blades, attached to a leather strap that did less than hold the stupid thing down as she ran.
Hitting a curb, she jumped, hoping that the sudden incline would at least take out a few of the dead. It did…but only a few…
One false move and she was down, having caught her toe in a crack. Normally, she knew better than to fire a gun in the city. It attracted them. They could hear, and they could smell; at least enough to weed food out of their little mob. Rolling onto her back, she positioned her shotgun as one of them grabbed her foot bringing it's mouth down.
"AH!", she squealed a bit, before blasting it's head to pieces. The elderly man with half a jaw, behind Mr. Sticky bits fell back a bit as the blast took out part of his chest. She had to move quickly, or the rest would close in on her.
"Dammit…", she groaned, backing up in a sort of crab walk. Standing, she started to run again.
A girl's panicked voice perked Mayson's ear up, as he stuffed a hand full of beef jerky in his mouth. He chewed quickly and pulled his gun, taking the safety off as he walked toward the voice. He didn't honestly care about this girl, but no human deserved to be torn limb from limb. No human deserved the treatment that most of the race had received the past few weeks.
He fell, his back slamming into the ground as he took on the extra hundred pounds against his chest. Opening his eyes, he stared up at the face, sure it was another walking dead thing.
The girl scurried away from him, shaking, and drew her shotgun. Instantly, Mayson threw his hands up, "Whoa whoa whoa! I'm human. Living breathing human! I swear…"
"Are you bit?"
"What?", Mayson asked her, as if oblivious to the question. She pumped her shotgun, placing a shell into the chamber and Mayson flinched, nodding his head slightly with his eyes closed, "No. No, I'm not bitten. Are you?"
"Hell no. I wouldn't be talking' to ya if I was…", she spat at him, and he raised his eyebrows.
"Alright, then. I'm going to stand up…slowly. You're going to…", he reached a hand up, and brushed the shotgun barrel to the side, away from his nose, "…relax a bit, and we'll get out of here. If you don't kill me…I can help you."
The girl stared at him for a good few seconds, before ejecting all five shells from her shotgun, and reloading them. She placed it back on safety with precision, and slung it over her back, "Fine…Where's your group?"
"Mine too.", she whispered, taking a deep breath.
"Then we have something in common. It's a start…", Mayson replied with a smirk. He motioned for her to follow him as the corpses began trudging toward them. They snuck down an alleyway and up a ladder, staring down at the death below.
This was the world, now…