Surviving Close Calls

15

I never thought I would be this close to "it."

The zombie appeared around the corner without warning.

By the time we noticed, it was almost upon us.

Its face was a waxy yellow.

No, more like a yellowish-brown.

Its eyes were completely covered in a white film, and its deep purple nose and lips were cracked like leather.

Before I could react, Chris had already moved. I saw him swing the fire axe.

The blade struck the zombie's head, nearly cleaving it in half. Red and white brain matter splattered everywhere.

My mind went blank, unable to process the situation.

Anne shielded me, but some of the gore still splashed onto my face.

I reached up to touch it. It was blood.

"Let's go," she pulled me along.

Chris was delivering a second blow.

We retreated back into the lobby, where I leaned against the wall and vomited.

Anne looked at me with concern.

"I'm fine," I wiped my face with my sleeve.

"Hurry," Chris approached, unbuttoning his coat,

"Take off any clothes that got blood on them."

I had never seen him so serious. I quickly removed my mask and gloves.

I checked my clothes—no bloodstains.

He took the contaminated items, rolled them up, and threw them out the door, then led us back to the stairwell, "The smell of blood seems to have attracted more zombies."

Summoning my courage, I peeked out.

Despite the sun still being up, the horde was converging on the residential building. Some were already at the lobby entrance.

"What do we do? Should we go back to your place?" Anne started to retreat.

I heard the rigid footsteps approaching the lobby. They were close.

"Chris?" I urged him quietly when he didn't respond.

"Don't go upstairs," he finally decided, pulling a flashlight from his bag, "We'll go through the underground parking lot."

We immediately moved down the fire escape to the basement.

But I underestimated the zombies. They only seemed slow.

Once they locked onto prey, they could move with astonishing speed.

Burdened with supplies, I stumbled. By the time they reached the basement exit, I was still lagging behind.

"Drop the oil! Let it go!" Anne shouted desperately.

I was on a half-landing and realized the urgency. The heavy plastic containers fell with a thud. I didn't dare look back, sprinting toward the exit with all my strength.

Chaos erupted behind me.

The oil cans seemed to be knocked over by the zombies, tumbling down the stairs.

The slick liquid spilled out, nearly making me slip.

I barely made it out, and Anne quickly shut the fire door behind me.

"Thud, thud, thud—"

A moment later, zombies slammed into the door.

"Forget them, let's move."

Chris checked my backpack. It was good quality, not torn.

The parking lot was unusually dark without lights, the fading daylight casting long shadows.

Dust-covered car roofs and some cars with open doors—abandoned by their owners. The basement felt eerily quiet, punctuated by the zombies' banging on the door.

"It's five o'clock," my watch glowed faintly green in the dark. I reminded Chris, "The sun's setting."

I glanced toward the parking lot entrance. The light was steadily dimming.

It was getting dark.

They would soon return to their nests.

Chris walked ahead silently.

Unfamiliar with the parking lot, I stuck close behind him.

The horde had already entered the basement.

Every footstep jolted my nerves.

After what felt like an eternity, Chris finally stopped.

By flashlight beam, I saw it was the underground entrance to our residential building.

At home, I thoroughly disinfected all backpacks and the remaining oil can.

I also bagged and discarded all our clothes from today.

To ensure no zombie blood remained on us, we decided Anne would shower first.

Chris was on the balcony, setting up his equipment.

I joined him.

Our floor was lower than his, giving a clear view without binoculars.

The opposite building was surrounded by the horde.

Zombie blood was apparently more enticing than human blood. As the sun set, they showed no signs of dispersing.

These zombies differed from those I had read about.

They seemed to have lost their vocal cords; even when detecting prey, they didn't roar or growl.

So by the time you noticed them, they were already too close.

"Good thing we got back before sunset."

I shivered, recalling the encounter.

I couldn't imagine what the basement would be like at night.

"I hadn't had time to scout the parking lot; we were lucky today," Chris handed me the binoculars, "Look."

I took them, the zombie's face magnified in my view.

Despite being prepared, my heart still raced.

Huh?

Wait—

I adjusted the zoom.

Some zombies were pouring out of building 58…

He nodded, "The ones inside the buildings were drawn out too."

Which meant… if we had returned upstairs, we might have been surrounded by the horde.

The realization sent a chill down my spine.

About to take another look, Anne emerged from the bathroom.

"Helen," she called.

"What's wrong?" I turned to her.

Her face was pale.

It reminded me of the first time I met her.

As she approached, I noticed a thin cut above her eyebrow, barely visible.

"Zombie blood seems to have gotten in," she said, her face both beautiful and pale.

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