Lock Down, Bite Down Part VIII

Dells barely had time to snatch up his shotgun before the first zombie that had toppled through the broken window got to his feet. A second after that, its head was spread over the wall in a red fan of gore.

Henry clutched the bars of his cell and yelled, “Hot damn. Now that’s more like it!”

Dells eyed him while he felt his anger rising. “No one should be enjoying this nightmare,” he muttered loud enough for Henry’s sister to hear, but then everyone was forced to focus on the zombies forcing their way into the building. 

More windows shattered and when Mickey drew away from the door two more tumbled in through the shattered window there. Becca and Dells opened fire on the already gory figures. Walking dead with shards of glass protruding from their faces, necks, and hands lumbered toward them, just to be blown apart or receive rounds to the head. Mickey regained his senses and joined them in cutting down the zombies.

All the while Henry laughed, but as the undead began to get a foot hold within the building, he yelled, “Give me gun!”

“Fat chance, you lunatic,” Mickey shouted back at him.

Then Becca’s pistol went dry right when Dells’ shotgun had required a reloading. 

With a roar, Mickey stepped up and shot zombie after zombie in the head. “How can there be so many?” he gasped right before a tattered and filthy zombie emerged from a side room and latched her hands down upon Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey tried to move away, but the fiend bent forward and bit into his cheek. With a wild scream, Mickey pulled away leaving a mouthful of himself in the dead woman’s wet jaws. With one hand, Dells pushed Becca behind him, while his right hand drew his pistol. Five well placed shots brought him to Mickey’s side. The man had killed the biter, but had emptied his gun as well. 

Mickey’s Last Day

Becca screamed. “I need bullets!”

“No, there’s too many. Get to the cell next to your brother, it’s the only chance.” Dells emptied his pistol, but was able to grab his shotgun before he rushed the others back to the empty cell. Frantic seconds were wasted while his bloody fingers fumbled for the keys.

“Hurry, they’re coming!” Becca yelled and from the sounds of things, fear was finally taking hold of the brave girl.

“I’m going as fast… Got it. Hurry, get inside.”

He slammed the cell door shut just as the first of the zombies arrived. Within seconds a dozen of them flailed and thrust their arms through the bars at them.

“Holy shit,” Mickey muttered, while continuing to apply direct pressure to his cheek. Blood flowed through his fingers and dripped onto the floor in a steady rhythm.

“How are we on bullets?” Becca asked while they watched even more of their former friends and neighbors enter the sheriff station.

“I have about fifty rounds for the pistol on my belt and maybe ten shotgun shells in my pockets.”

“And for us?” Mickey asked.

Dells just shook his head.

“How about this pistol?” Becca asked.

“No, wrong caliber.”

“At least I have a knife,” she said while drawing a blade out of her back pocket. 

“Well, crap,” Mickey said while he sat on a bed as far away from the zombies as he could manage. He looked up and the zombies and wrinkled his brow. “Hey, why are all the zombies outside of our cell. Why aren’t any of them bothering numb nuts over here,” As he spoke he jerked his thumb toward Henry’s cell.”

Dells thought for a moment, “Maybe they aren’t as attracted to people that have been bit. Try walking toward them, Mick. If they ignore you, you might be able to grab us some rounds.”

With a protesting groan, Mick got up and neared the cell bars. The zombies went mad trying to reach him.

Dells looked over at Henry. “Get a little closer to the bars.”

After making an annoying face, Henry stumped up to the bars. The zombies ignored him—acting like he was one of their own.”

“That’s strange,” Dells said.

“Maybe it was because he was bitten longer ago,” Becca suggested.

Dells also noticed that already Mickey had broken out in a sweat and his face looked flushed, but Henry showed no signs of sickness.

Henry saw him staring and said, “It’s not just strange, sheriff, it means you have to toss me the keys, because I’m your only chance of getting out of here.”

Check in next Saturday for the next Chapter of Eternal Aftermath!

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