-1Gunshots, distant first but growing steadily closer. Drawing nearer through the haze of drowsiness. I can feel the heat of the fire against my back still as smoke runs past my face. I don’t want to open my eyes; I want to escape back into the comfort of sleep. Is this what it’s like to be dead? To be a zombie? To sleep and never have to wake but still be alive. The zombies aren’t alive though.

Open your eyes damn it, I tell myself. I do, weakly lifting my chin off of my chest. The gunshots are all around me, coming from the building across the street. How long had I been asleep I wondered. It didn’t matter. Zombies dropped left and right. Some were hit in the head, others were hit in the arms, legs and torso. Time to get up and do something. Do fucking what?

My right arm wouldn’t lift past my waist, I must have strained it. I sheathed my machete with my left arm and grabbed my pistol. I stood up and quickly realized that this was a very bad idea. A bullet ripped into my right hand, throwing my arm back and sending me down to the pavement. It felt like I had closed my hand in a car door, but it had to be worse. I’m afraid of my own blood, childish yes, but I couldn’t stomach a look. I had to find a safe way across the street.

The building behind me was a towering inferno as I ducked behind the light post. There was only one chance for this, and no time. If the gunmen in the building didn’t take me out the retarded zombies would. I ran, across the front of the building the left side of my face burning against the heat of the fire. I ran past the next ally-way and ducked inside an alcove on the front of the next building.

This was all uninteresting, trapped by myself in a city full of the fucked up walking corpses. The modern "undead cliché" and now I’m being shot at. Avoiding the risk of becoming one of those several random dumb-ass survivors who find themselves down on the streets and dead after the first few days, I grew some balls. Screw this life in the pit, I’m gonna end up zombie chow if I don’t get the hell out of here now. All of this self narration almost made me forget that I was still surrounded by a bunch of monsters. Spooky shit, I got a chill down my spine. Please continue.

Another blur of passing time, to short and to long. Everything all mixed up. There was only one thing that saved me from my obvious stupidity as I bolted across the street, the zombies were wholly preoccupied with the people firing from the third and fourth floors of dumb-ass manor. I skirted by the zombies with no problem, catching whiffs of spoiled flesh and stale shit. No one ever thought about the shit, but these are dead people, every one of them had a dark brown stain on their asses. I almost puked in my mouth but I kept on going.

Best to hide in the shadows for a while, let my heart settle. I was safe for the time being, all alone in a dark ally. But that couldn't last long. I started to feel tendrils of pain shoot up my arm, I chanced a look at my right hand. Blood dripped steadily from the two missing fingers, now I could look. It didn't make me sick, I was almost fascinated. Both my pinky and ring finger were clean off at the palm. "Now I'm a little bit pissed."

I had to stop the bleeding and get some medical attention right away, but seeing as my apartment was a burnt out wreck there was only one place left to go. Up the rear fire escape onto the fourth floor, see if I couldn't get shot again. I'm already tired of ladders.