Day 6

Zombies killed: 7

Fortunately, there wasn’t any zombie around that trash pile, and outside the sun shined, high there.

Morgaine had done the things with her fingers and the horizon and could tell that it was around 09 am; I expected to wake up way later, but maybe the hunger motivated our bodies to get active sooner to go to search for food. And so I planned to do.

The pile of trash showed itself to be even more useful for my twin sister and I when, not only by offering us a (relatively) secure place to sleep last night, but also a lot of empty plastic bottles and a high place from where Morgaine and I could see our surroundings: the mansion and the river to the north-west, the city to the west, the broken bridge to outside the town to the north, the still (holly fuck, when would it end? I never thought that wildfires lasted that long…) burning forest to the north-east, the Rocky Hills to the east, fishing shop (then packed with so many zombies that we could barely see it) to the South, and, finally, and really our only choice from our point of view, the dirt road where we found the red pickup truck to the south-east.

Of course, the car itself; that by that point had, too, a good number of undead close to itself; was out of our plans. But not the gas station just ahead on the same road.

Where we were right then and there.

Though our instincts were pushing my twin sister and me to go immediately looking for food and water, we decided to spend our first hour discussing what we should do from then on, right after leaving our shelter-bathtub.

We started from: should we really compromise ourselves to the extermination of every single undead in that city?

“Pincer; I’m the bait first. Let’s start from the green shirt” I said to Morgaine while both of us hide ourselves from the two zombies that we could see inside the gas station’s shop; having deepened our basic strategies before approaching the building, there was no need for making things clearer: she got it immediately and we rushed into the shop, I kicking its door open and doing like we planned.

Back while we asked ourselves that question, there was no hesitation nor doubt for neither of us to its answer: yes.

I ran, loudly, thru the aisle and caught the attention of the zombie in a green shirt, when I turned to inside one of the corridors and ran to its very end, where I stopped and turned to him, with an open view from both of my sides and the undead stumbling in my direction. I was as nervous as in any of our previous attacks, but that time, something was different, something inside of me. Even when the creature was already getting too close, I didn’t move a single centimeter, didn’t started to panicking and attack his limbs and retreat, my club still in my hands. Then I knew that I, actually, didn’t know shit, but recognize this only helped me, to see things in a more realistic way. To think logically.

To create the strategy that gave Morgaine an easy strike to the zombie’s head, by making this last one focusing on me: “THUCK!”, the club sounded against the skull.

The diagonal attack against the undead’s head brought this one to the ground, when I noticed that it, actually, was having difficulties to react and get back up (was because his brain was a bit damaged? Was it surprised? Both?). Of course, my twin sister didn’t give a single second of rest for the dammed creature and bashed again and again against its head. I didn’t stay to see until the end, but followed the plan and run round the shelves and away from the view of the second zombie, who was then following my twin sister. When I finally went around the aisles and approached the next victim, having made an “O” path, this one was turning already to me. Not fast enough though: my club, that still had the rock at the end of itself, came right over his left eye, and I felt the bones under it breaking and the weapon making its way to the brain and a mortal strike.

When the second zombie fell, motionless, on the gas station shop ground, I approached Morgaine once more: she was having a hard time to make thru the skull and I didn’t know how many bashes she had already delivered on the thing on the floor, but she ended her opponent right before I could offer any help, when her last attack come to the head, this one absorbing a third of her club inside of itself and accommodating the wood in between the brain.

While my twin sister rested for a bit, I looked around one last time, like we decided to do after whenever we come to clear a building: check every single fucking corner of it.

The creature who jumped from between the aisles over me almost got a taste of my face, if I hadn’t put my club before his teeth.

Still, his mere weight and the sudden move brought me to the ground, and while I had to use both my hands to keep the zombie bite away, it still had both his hands and his nails. That were just as infectious.

Fuck, why that one didn’t come after us as soon as we invaded this place, like the others?! Wait, that in his ear… Did he have hearing problems?

I inhaled, about to scream for help, when Morgaine’s boot found its way for the brain-eater’s temple, and got him off me. Quickly getting up, I prepared myself to combat again: unfortunately, the zombie had been pushed into a corner and my twin sister and I couldn’t encircle him.

The undead wasn’t particularly strong, but our clubs weren’t too long and by fighting a zombie face to face, we put ourselves at risk; so I looked around for anything that I could use on the brain eater, but there was nothing.

“His hands?”, my twin sister suggested.

“No”, we, too, hadn’t much space to keep retreating while slowly inflicting damage; the zombie wouldn’t just stop to approach us during our attacks, after all. “Follow me and let him come closer”, I instructed, going to the very end of the corridor and to the opposite direction of the zombie who was between us and the exit.

“You have a plan, right?”, Morgaine showed herself worried, but doing as I said; the zombie advanced a few steps toward us.

“I’ll just do like always”, I said, preparing myself. “Use what I have in my hands!”, I added, dashing to the zombie. And throwing myself on the ground, sliding under his legs and ending up behind the creature. While the undead was still turning around, trying to follow the path I made, I hit my club right against his neck, just under the skull: almost used already to open heads, I felt the bones breaking with surprising easy, and the creature fell, motionless. “Like this”, I concluded, especially proud of myself, adjusting my school’s uniform’s jacket.