Just one more to go, I kept repeating in my head while the sirens screamed in my ears. There's not much ammo, either.
Even if I had all the ammunition in the world, that wouldn't have mattered. I needed to get this one down and over with before the rest of them caught up and chased me across the city. Again.
Pinning myself against the wall, I went into sniper mode, channeling all of my thoughts, concentration, feeling and emotion into this one shot I definitely had to get. After this, I get to ride for about two hours, scavenge for a place to rest my head, and wait for the rest of my team to follow through my orders.
Their sirens were beginning to stiffle out. That meant about two more minutes until they were about to leave. So much for a little more distratction.
As soon as the siren was disabled, the single zombie reared its hideous, decaying face in my general direction. Even in his decomposing state his senses had ultimately hightened.
I had one shot. And I took it as soon as I could.
There was the faint squeal of tires behind me as I realized my team was retreating. Damn them. Looks like I was on my own at the time.
Quickly, I zoned into the zombie's head, took a calm and cleansing breath, and pulled my trigger to release the final bullet in my lugger. Blood erupted from its head and he feel with a gurgle and landed in a slumped form on the cement. My job was almost done, but then I needed to rush to my vehicle and get the hell out of there before any more ghouls came and surrounded me. I made it halfway through New York to my van, where I could hear my radio buzzing impatiently just behind my closed door. I threw myself inside and grabbed the handset.
"What the hell, Frances? The siren only last half a minute! I barley had time to reload and take out the rest of them all by myself! Where was Irene?"
There was static, then a reply: "She was with Charlie, trying to gather up anything they could find in the building they were scavenging. There's something wrong with our siren system. I checked it out and I still don't know what's wrong."
"What did it do?"
"It wouldn't work at first, and I was afraid that if I kept it on too long then it would completely stop."
I started my van and rushed out of the swarms of ghouls ambushing me. Figures. They didn't have brains of their own to function.
Changing the frequencies, I tuned to Irene. "Hey, Irene. Where's the next stop?"
There was silence until she picked up. "What the fuck do I look like, a map? I don't know!"
"You used to live here and don't you talk to me like that. I'll dump your ass back there with those demons and don't think for a damn second I'll regret it."
She sighed on the other end of the radio. "I think there's a motel or something about fifteen miles west of here. I'm not sure; Charlie lost the map back at the radio towers."
"Charlie, what the hell? Don't let him handle the equipment anymore. That was our last copy."
"Fine."
Static erupted and I set the handset back in its place. My team might not be the biggest zombie-hunter organization out there, but we were definitely the best, even if we had the most disobedient and confused rookies. I settled my thoughts to driving and trying to run over all of the ghouls attempting to chase me on the road. I could faintly see the tire tracks on the dusty streets in front of me, so that meant I was close. I sped up and finally met with Frances and his truck. I followed him till we found the motel.
Irene unpacked the weapons and had them slung over her shoulder in a duffel bag. Charlie was standing next to her with a sheepish expression after her saw me unload my load of weapons. Frances hastily got out of his vehicle and immediately drilled us on what to do.
"Okay. We stay here for the night, since this is the closest resting area and it's almost sundown. At sunrise, we dispurse to search for more zombies to kill."
"I don't have any ammo for my luggers, Frances. And you know I'm not good with blades and such," I said, kicking open the doors and holding my machete at a safe distance.
"You seem to be using that blade just fine. We'll see if we can find Michelle and her team tomorrow in Hoboken," he said, then adressed the other two. "Keep your weapons handy. And keep checking the rooms; just like that, okay?" he called to me over his shoulder.
"Sure thing," I bust in another door between the two words.
All the rooms were fine. Irene stayed in the same room as me, so Charlie had to stay with Frances. Sure, our team was small, but--again--we were the best.
As Irene snored lightly in the bed across the room, I stared blankly at the ceiling, alert as ever. I couldn't take my mind off of how the world was, as usual. Always pondering the wonders of a normal life, free of zombie-hunters and just spending an entire day being lazy or something less productive than spilling flesh-consuming blood. I'd always had a pensive mind when it came to that subject. My whole life is and has been revolved around killing, killing, slaughtering, and more killing. If it were only thrity-three years before, I wouldn't be doing this. Stupid science had to resurrect the dead and not be able to control them and let the outbreak of the plague spread globally.
And that's how my non-paying job started. A mistake--a major catastrophe--started everything my life is now made up of.
I tossed around, staring at the blinking stars through the cracked and dusty window right next to me.


__+__


A silver box. That's what changed my life that instant. As convenient as it was, I couldn't believe how much Karma loved me. A silver box, approximately the size of a lexicon, held all of the ammuntion I needed to let me survive maybe another month of zombie-hunting.
It might have been the most beautiful thing I had ever seen at the moment.
"Hey! Get your ass out here!" Irene yelled at the doorway. I hurridly shoved the gorgeous silver rectangle into my bag and rushed out the door.
Everyone else was ready, and all I had to do was turn the key in the ignition and we would be on the road once again.
But that wasn't the case.
Fraces was standing at the back of his truck, staring at the open bed as if it was the most disgusting thing in the world. In the position I was in, I had a sideview of the truck, so I went to stand next to him. When I saw what he was glaring blankly at, I felt my knees go weak and my jaw go weak with nausea and I leaned over the side of the vehicle and threw up anything I ate over the past twenty-four hours.
Lying on the bed of the truck was the carcass of Charlie, torn and exposed and swarmed by flies. His bones protruded through his skin, muscles were spilling through his stretched skin and his eyes were gouged out in a grotesque way. When I was done, Irene had joined Frances' side; she didn't look surprised or disgusted though.
"I heard him get up in the middle of the night," he said in a gruff voice. "My own nephew..."
"Was that the only one?" I asked around the lump and bile in my throat.
"There were four other zombies that he mangaed to get rid of. The last one got to him though. I burried the rest of the carcasses behind the motel," she said, staring at the body for another a minute before saying to Fraces in a calm yet still cynical voice, "We should really get going, though, if we want to find Michelle."
He stayed motionless for a moment more before rigidly grabbing the shovel at his feet and delicately scooped the body out and dumped it onto the ground, giving Irene the shovel to dispove of what was the rest of Charlie.
Without giving a second glance at either at them, I hurried to my van. Being a part of a zombie-hunting team meant dealing with deaths, but this time, I think there was an exception for this one.