Day: 80

Zombies killed: 2500

Not only we had taken too long to really get good in killing zombies, but we also ended up slowing down our rhythm in the least 10 days to prepare ourselves to our next objective (most of the time my twin sister and I went outside and back to the killings being because Morgaine needed a specific tool, part or a book or magazine once that we had no more internet).

This didn’t matter, though: we finally were facing the next big step, and if we succeeded, we could easily not only recover from these few days, but also finally attend to the schedule I calculated in the first day.

“The police station”, there we were.

It was still very early in the morning, my twin sister and I had left our base even before the sun had risen, and I stared into the large building down the hill and by the side of the road. It was a bit far from the city’s center, but it was in a place that allowed the cops to reach every corner of the city the fastest (though by following down the road we would quickly reach a traffic jam of abandoned cars that were heading out off the city, its border close by); and while the building itself wasn’t designed to be an easily protected fortress already secured by tall walls and moats, there wasn’t this kind of convenient structure in our city (well, to be honest, some schools and factories looked like this, but the first ones were right in the middle of the city, infested by zombies and close to the Happy shrimp faction, and the last ones outside the frontiers established by the army). Plus, there were guns inside the building, and modern protective equipment.

“Saw anything different from the last 200 times you looked at it?”, Morgaine asked from the back of the car while I took the binocular away from my face and took a sip of coffee from a cup I had in my other hand.

“Fortunately not.”

“Then, the super-strong zombie is hiding inside in someplace that will make our battle even harder than it would already normally be.”

“Well, if you consider the fully armored undead inside the building as special…”

“Haha, you’re being so naive, bro! Things always get worse, didn’t you know? It’s that Murphy thing.”

“It doesn’t matter: the reward for this incursion is so great that I’m willing to sacrifice all of our resources! But we don’t know how much time it’ll take to clean that place, so we have to hurry. Are you ready?”, I turned around and looked to my twin sister, who finally got off the back of the car, carrying two long things involved in shaggy clothes.

“Yea, and I got you a present!”

“So this is the ‘mysterious anti-armored zombie weapon’, hu?”, I took the stick thing she offered me, feeling a surprisingly heavy tip at the end. It wasn’t a normal club, that was clear, but the shape didn’t give up its real identity too… I pulled the rope around it, loosening the clothe and in the end revealing the black weapon: the long handle was surprisingly short for the length of the weapon, clean and smooth though decorated with totally unnecessary skulls and spikes and red magic circles; but the tip ended in a bulky pair of very, very long chainsaws. “Wow… I have to say: this is fucking awesome, sis.”

“Haha, thank you…!”, she said, smiling a bit embarrassed while displaying her own black spear filled with chains and bones, whose only the short blade was improved by the gas chainsaw.

“Hm, yes, I can definitely see this going thru the zombies’ armors. This is really impressive, really.”

“Oh, stop it!”, Morgaine punched my shoulder slightly. “I already know I’m the sibling who inherited all the good qualities, but I’ll start to feel bad for you if you keep saying it out loud like this!”

“Give back my compliments!”, I sighed; I should keep myself calm and cool. “Let’s go now. We have zombies to kill.”

Though I spent so much time observing, analyzing, studying and planning, I couldn’t really discover how many undead were inside the police station, nor its exact configuration, so my work ended up being all about keeping wandering hordes away, and escape routes; all windows but one, that opened to a broken and pointy iron fence, in the first floor being a possible emergency exit.

In other words, we started the motors of the chainsaws, kicked the front door, invaded the building and immediately took away the zombie-killing virginity of our new weapons by cutting some brain-eaters in half: I brandished my club in a horizontal move, separating some heads from their bodies and in the bloody processes destroying a few jaws; while I finished the shocked but still “alive” zombies’ heads on the ground, though, Morgaine, with admirable precision, scattered gray matter all around with one thrust against each one of her opponents.

“NICE!”, my twin sister screamed, mutilating an already motionless body on the floor.

We had just killed nine creatures, but were already so covered in blood that I had to clean the shield of my helmet with some papers I took from the balcony. The zombies we had just defeated weren’t wearing any protective equipment and seemed but civilians so they didn’t carry any gun, but I could already tell that Morgaine’s new inventions were unfairly strong… though to use them without any kind of mask wouldn’t be different from asking to be infected in the first zombie you killed.

“Let’s continue”, I called and choose a corridor at random.

Not that we necessarily need to go after the brain-eaters: we had made some noise, and so I could already listen to grunts, moans, and growls, and unstable feet coming downstairs and moving with sudden hurry.

Right when Morgaine and I found a stair at the end of the corridor; the shadow of dozens of creatures moving down the steps like a fleshy dysmorphic mass of zombies who fell over each other in the way to the ground floor, somehow forming almost an unspeakable hive mind; a door broke under the sheer weight of another bunch of creatures behind us, a second horde showing up from one of the rooms by the side of the corridor.

“Take care of the stairs!”, I instructed, tuning to the ones coming from the room by the corridor and giving my back to my twin sister.

I lifted the spinning blades as high as the ceiling allowed and bashed it down the first rotting head I came across. A bone fragment hit me with surprising strength, enough to hurt, and brains got stuck on the lights over my head. Before the heavy group of undead who broke the door could get up, I attacked the horde as one thing on the ground, without even aiming.

I used to ask myself how the fuck did those stupid and slow things would be able to take over a city if this one wasn’t filled with idiots, but then, being forced to retreat step by step back the corridor from a hellish amount of dead flesh that I had been cutting thru for God knows how much time, taking so much blood out of the group that dragged itself that it made a foul dark red pool on the ground, I got scared. I had killed thousands of zombies with my twin sister before that, and by that point I was pretty confident in my skills against the brain-eaters, but I got scared, the mass of hands and mouths that just didn’t stop to come after me no matter how much I attacked, the absolute overwhelming force whose numbers were just too big.

I felt, then something touching my back: I almost jumped in fright, before noticing that it was actually Morgaine. Both of us had lost all of our ground to the undead; a similar glob of dozens of creatures

I looked to the windows close to us and, pressing and swinging my weapon against the agglomeration of locked zombies on the ground, as much smoke filling the corridor as amputated limbs, I grabbed Morgaine’s back and, slowly, walked towards the glasses, without taking my attention from the opponent(s) before me nor stopping to slash.

To hold the massive club-chainsaw with a single hand wasn’t something I would be able to do before, but even then it was taking 100% of my muscles, feeling like my right arm, shoulder and even neck were about to teared off just by the sheer weight of the weapon, and its vibration and the resistance of the flesh and bones it was cutting thru just made harder to hold onto the thing.

It took us only three steps to the side to reach the window, but a long time and meters of zombie to slice just to keep them at bay, but we finally made it. I brought my hand back to the handle of my club-chainsaw and pressed the thing down until it reached the ground while my twin sister would break the glass; and, I hoped she would tap me to go after her, because I wasn’t listening to shit, the motors of our weapons added to the howlings to the creatures just deafening.

Then: tap, tap!

I felt at my back, brought the weapon dripping blood and fat closer, turned to the window, and ran.

“Ouch!”

Straight against the glass, too close to break it with only my helmet and movement speed.

Hu? What was happening, why didn’t Morgaine broke the window?

“Morgaine?!”, I shouted, despair like I only felt once, when my father died, filled my heart. “MORG-”

“Here, here…!”, my twin sister said, laying against the wall, panting. “Relax... Look around: they… are all dead”, she pointed, sliding to the ground, and carelessly sitting on the pool of blood of centimeters deep. Well, we both already were completely red-painted anyway.

In any case, Morgaine was right, and both the groups of zombies pressed one against another had, though grunts and disgusting squishy sounds could still be heard coming from them, stopped. The grotesque scene looked like some kind of nightmare, there should be close to a hundred zombies there… maybe a bit less, but there were so many scattered limbs and entrails and so much blood that it was hard to have a good idea of the exact number. It suddenly became clear for me how it was hard to control the infection once that it had spread that far; I asked myself if we would ever retake the parts of the world we had lost?

Like my twin sister I left my back hit the wall and seated on the floor.

“Do police stations usually have this many people inside...?”

“Well, the city had seen cases of zombies for some time before they completely took over, so maybe this place received reinforcements?”, I replied trying to clean my hand at least enough to take off the sticky red from the hole over the gas tank on my weapon, and started to refill it. “And, who knows, maybe we weren’t the first ones who thought about looting this place and this ended up being the final tomb for many survivors? In any case, I hope we already killed most of the fuckers inside this building.”

“Haha, you’re funny bro: we didn’t even face the giant mutant with tentacles and four hands!”

“Oh, yes, and he would be in a secret facility under this police station… no, wait: stop to create even harder challenges for us!”, I sighed. Getting up again, almost sliding on the blood, I offered my hand to Morgaine, concluding: “come on. It wouldn’t be easy to fight here again with the floor this slippery and bodies everywhere.”

“Not that it’ll be easy to fight anywhere else, though”, she took my hand and I helped my twin sister to get up.

Being bitten on our armor only twice (properly finishing the creatures immediately after we went up to the next floor), we walked up the stair and to the next floor. We didn’t found any other big horde, many zombies gathered in a single place, but slaughtered as many as in the previous floor individually or in small groups; we raided offices, bathrooms, and meeting rooms and made a mess with the creatures inside. We found the weapons room, but it was, of course, locked (I hoped we wouldn’t need to dig thru that mess on the first floor). Our boots left red stains on the floor, and we saw ourselves so drenched in zombie blood it became a problem, and I started to fear we could be infected accidentally, so we washed ourselves with a gallon of water of a filter we found. If we planned to make that place in our new home, we would have to spend a long time doing the cleaning…

It was only in the third and last floor, where it was located the few cells that that building hold, though, that we faced the ones I was fearing: bulky undead completely protected by black bulletproof armors.

The moving blades of our new weapons were way less effective against those creatures, and my twin sister and I were forced to maneuver and spin around the horde, taking minutes of battle to take down a single armored zombie. Using the own police station resources, we guided the brain-eaters to the stairs where we funnel them, I taking the creatures off their balance so Morgaine could lift the shield of their helmets and stab their faces; we turned cabinets over and locked some, so we could kill them easier latter; we threw guts against their helmets, blocking their vision or cut our way thru the plaster walls when cornered; kicked infected down the elevator’s shaft and cut the thing’s cables plummeting the metal box over the zombies’ heads. When we were facing the last one of 50, we had already made an entire lap around the building and ended up again right before the weapon’s room and the second floor:

I jumped over the desk and from this up and ahead, swinging my moving blades on the lights right over the zombie. The metal and glasses fell with low impact over the creature whose the blood over the helmet shield had already dried out, but enough to distract it from my twin sister’s attack and the cart still filled with dirt plates she pushed against the undead’s knees bringing the creatures down.

Still mid-air, I pushed my weapon against the ground and let it drag me down, also pulling the moving blades. That came across the laid zombie’s crotch. The creatures couldn’t feel pain, but be split in half from between its legs shouldn’t have been a pleasing experience either, and by the time my feet met the wall and I started to fall, my chainsaw-club was stuck on the chest area of the brain-eater. I jumped forward before fall right over my opponent and my own weapon, and swung the moving blades over my head in a spin; when I ended up straight on the floor, I had brought the half-cut creature’s body with me at the tip of my moving blades and giving continuity to the movement and still using the force of the spin, I pressed the creature against the floor and my chainsaw-club. The chest gave in, then the neck, then I saw myself pressing the heavy weapon against the bodiless head’s part that once was connected with the neck, until, suddenly, it exploded like a balloon, skull and brains flying everywhere.

I staggered to the desk again and seated on it.

“Was it the last one?”, asked Morgaine, looking around. “Nah, what am I talking about? There probably is some kind of mutant giant rat inside the arsenal or an invisible enemy or something”, she should be as tired as I, but, still, without break, brought up the keys before my eyes. Maybe she just wanted to end that quickly? Well, not that I could blame her: I, too, just wanted to guarantee the security of our weapons and go back to our actual base and rest…

“What kind of asshole would put a boss in the treasure room after such a long battle?”

“Haha, for someone who tries so hard to look cool you talk a lot about video games.”

Tch, until when would the gamers be oppressed like that?

“For a goth punk, you shit talk the government very rarely.”

“Uh- Well... Fuck the rich?”, I didn’t like that…

“Whatever, let’s just open that door...”, I refilled my weapon a fourth time, emptying the gas gallon I had brought with me and throwing it away, then following Morgaine.

The key we had found during the long battle fit perfectly inside the door, and while she turned it, we exchanged glares, I starting to feel really anxious about the possibility she had brought up just seconds ago. At least, the door opened. And revealed that my twin sister’s words actually carried the true weight.

“Fuck, sis!”, I couldn’t avoid but to scream, pushing the chain at the side of my weapon and restarting the moving blades; preparing myself to even one more fight while staring thee enormous mutated body on the ground.

“It’s not my fault, okay?!”, her spear spit smoke too and its tip was pointed to the… corpse?

“It’s not moving at all...”

“Look, bro: bullet holes… It’s dead.”

I carefully approached the creature on the ground and checked it just to be sure. And with this, I mean that I crushed its skull with a powerful move of the heavy club and fast blades of my weapon. Yeah, it was completely dead.

I looked back to my twin sister, and we both stared at each other for the longest time before bursting into laughs. We turned off our weapons and looked around:

“Oh, good: there’s another door...”, pointed Morgaine, touching the massive metallic portal. “look’s like will really need to dig thru all that meat pi- ah, forget it, the key work on this door too.”

“Look, there’s something here”, I called and walked down a sideway from where it seemed the dead creature had come from. “A shooting range”, I noticed, looking for any forgotten gun or bullet; I found many of the last ones, but it didn’t seem that the police officers left their weapons behind there. Then, I saw it, the thing at the end of the shooting range. What used to be the target. “Morgaine, come here...”, I called, feeling chills down my spine.

“What is it?”, she showed up by my side. “Fuck, was someone tied to that?!” I didn’t need to point the thick leather strips on the wall opposed to where the shooters should be.

“A zombie”, the posters and warns everywhere made it clear. “And judging by the bullet holes, the idiots were using it to prove that the thing wouldn’t die if shot in any place”, no bullet hole where the head should be. Turning to the creature on the ground and noticing the incredible mutations over all its body, as well as parts of the leather strips still attached to its limbs, I concluded: “this mother fucker must have been shot hundreds of times for who knows how long… Its really a good thing it’s dead now, because it should have been incredibly strong. Possibly the reason everyone here was infected in the first place.”

“Fuck, I bet there’s some kind of monstrous Behemoth close to the Happy Shrimp fort too, then...”

“They sure shot the creatures from time to time, but while there are many mutants there, I don’t think there’s one like this.”

“What, hadn’t you made a chart about the mutations you saw from the tower?”, Morgaine made a pose ‘imitating’ me, when continuing: “oh, winged zombies you ask for? Hm, yes, there’s exactly something between just a few and a lot at a place.”

I failed at getting angry and laughed.

“Well, to be honest… yes, I have written details about the mutant types I say around the Happy Shrimp castle”, I replied, confirming once again that there was nothing more there for me to see, and walking to the last door. Bypassing the giant corpse wearing a straitjacket torn apart, I commented: “here be the strongest zombie…”

“Just wait until we open the next door, bro… Oh, no, just wait until we find the militarized creatures that were brought to the very limit of their mutation!”

I ignored Morgaine’s usual pessimism and opened the arsenal door, the key already inside it. The path a zombie identical to the one laying down on the ground, someone who was infected by it.

And this one wore a full black set of police armor.

It growled, no, it roared like a beast, opening its giant mouth with three jaws, its chin split in half, the same split going all the way down the zombie’s neck, from where came a myriad of spiked tentacle-like tongues moving themselves like snakes. I thought about close the door once again, but the undead was already too close to it, stretching its arm ended in two forearms (one of them having break out off the armor, but nonetheless less protected, covered in bone plates) right to my face, so I was forced to simply retreat; don’t wait to see the rest of the muscular body under the black armor pierced here and there by white bone spikes and drenched in blood.

“Fuck, sis!”

“It’s not my fault, okay?!”

Morgaine having left the first door to the room just after me I closed the door just in time to listen to the loud impact of when the mutant hit the portal with its body at full speed, the scary sound of the thick wooden door bending and cracking. Retreating step by step from the door, I feared for a moment that the door lock would break once that I had to left the key behind, but after the zombie got away from the thing and it stopped to be forced, I relaxed.

Until I saw, astonished, the door’s handle being turned and the thing opening.

“Looks like locking it is not an option...” I said, observing the enormous thing having to get down to pass under the door frame.

“I bet that if we run now, our car would stop to work right when we most needed it. Our doom is unavoidable, bro.”

The mutant zombie roared once again at jumped fourth and over my twin sister.

Morgaine rolled over a desk, and this one was absolutely obliterated by the creature’s hit, reduced to a thousand fragments that would be dangerous just by themselves if not for our armor. I turned on my chainsaw-club and stroke the enemy’s nape, in the gap between the back and the helmet. I got it right and straight at my target; but the blades simply failed to cut thru the bones.

The armored mutant, Target Junior, turned to me and quickly pushed my weapon away shouting while its tentacle-tongues shook, filled with spikes and blades. My twin sister, though, having then turned on her spear too, cut a pair of the things off with a vertical movement, coughing the undead’s attention once again. And, when Target Junior showed me its neck a second time, I noticed:

“It re-grew. The flesh I just cut re-grew! That’s not fair!”

The next attack of Target Junior, a step right where my twin sister just a second ago, broke the floor coating, and though Morgaine and I attacked at the same times at the quick breach in the defense of the creature just after the movement, as if to combine our power in some kind of combo, Target Junior’s four forearms just blocked the saws, before pushing us away.

“We won't be able to win like this, follow me!”, I screamed, dashing down a random hall.

“Do you have a plan?!”, my twin sister hurried to get by my side.

“Yes: think about a plan while keeping a distance from the immortal unstoppable killing machine coming for us”, I replied. Feeling the ground shaking in regular intervals, I looked over my shoulders, though I already had a bad feeling about that.

“...It runs, doesn’t it?”, Morgaine asked without looking back, her shoulders and head falling.

“Yeah. It runs.”

Target Junior wasn’t as fast as my twin sister and I, but it hadn’t passed an entire fucking day killing other zombies, and didn’t even was capable of getting tired in the first place, so after each and every step, while Morgaine and my lungs screamed for more and more oxygen, while our legs hurt and became heavier and harder to move, it got closer to us.

I couldn’t keep that for too long, and even if we believed in our stamina and tried to run away from the creature, it probably would get us at the stairs, jumping all the way down without really caring about hurting itself while my twin sister and I made our way step by step. There was only one way, and it was over the special zombie’s corpse.

But what could I do when my strikes can barely scratch it?!

...Well, I thought that I really didn’t have any other option: strike even harder.

“Sis, continue running in a straight line!”, I shouted soon after turning around a corner and confirming that the creature couldn’t see us. Then, before even waiting for her answer, I opened a door to my side and hide myself in it. There was a single zombie that, somehow, escaped our previous clean up, but I dealt with it quickly; I grabbed the thing by its ear and bashed its head on the wall, breaking the thin plaster structure in a point that seemed especially weak, and finalized the undead with a single hit with my elbow on its neck; turning once again to the corridor and my main goal, stopping to listen to the thunderous sounds of Target Junior's steps coming closer:

“Don… don.. don, don, Don, DON, DON, DON!”

Just a second before the special zombie showed up by the corridor bypassing the room I was in, I brandished my weapon with all my might to the middle of the path he was taking and outside the room’s door.

I hit the mutant as much as he dashed against my chainsaw-club, and the noise was deafening, but I felt the impact as much as my opponent and almost having my arms torn apart, I spun and fell to the ground, the floor taking my breath away by force.

Using the handle of my weapon as a cane, I noticed its weird balance before even looking, and noticed that an entire saw had broken off and I was left with only one; I had definitely succeeded in deal a strong attack, though, how was Target Junior? Once I got up, I immediately got out of the room and checked it.

Morgaine was walking backwards towards me, there were blood and bone fragments on the floor, as well as my lost chainsaw a helmet shield. At the end of the corridor, though, the creature stood, shaking its blood dripping head from one side to another, against an almost completely destroyed window it had stumbled into. It looked up, an enormous wound in its face, and straight into my eyes, Target Junior, before got up once again.

“Yeah, of course the plan failed…”, my twin sister sighed.

“No, we still have a chance… Let's make a full circle through the building and do it again!”, I said, starting to run and listening to the mutant doing the same.

“Well, yeah with that damage in his face, if we are fast enough, we may be able to actually reach the brain, but… I don’t think it’ll fall for the same trick twice: it’s coming right to you, bro!”

It wouldn’t let me get out of his vision field again, would it?

“I’ll serve as the bait this time, then: the plan is the same!”, I said and dived into another room by my side.

There was no exit, and by the time I reach the wall opposite to the entrance, Target Junior was already roaring by the door and flashing his brand new regenerated tentacle tongues at me.

“If there’s no exit, I just need to make one!”, I said; more than anything, to keep myself calm even when hearing death itself running towards me and feeling the vibrations of its heavyweight breaking the floor coating; and bashed my remaining chainsaw against the thin plaster wall without stopping, breaking the weakened remains with my own body.

The other side was a more ample room, though a labyrinth filled with walls of tall and well documented metallic cabinets; while I dodged the furniture and struggled to reach the next wall, the special zombie pursuing me broke its way thru the cabinets the same way it did thru the plaster wall, smashing and pushing aside the things as if they weighed nothing. I could already feel and smell the disgusting saliva spitting from the brain-eater’s mouth filled with dozens of razor-like tongues and teeth when I finally cut thru that room too.

Instead of continuing straight forward, though, then I made a sharp turn to the side, sliding on the floor while seeing mutated pair of forearms and hands covered in spiky bones coming right to my face; and trying to slow down uselessly with my hand. I came to a halt only and was able to proceed like I planned only when my feet hit a concrete column, crouching under Target Junior’s attack and avoiding certain death by a hair’s breadth. The heavy mutant undead wasn’t able to stop like me and, after spinning (having hit the concrete column as well), dove into the next room, bringing half of the wall with it. I continued, chainsaw-club prepared, to the side room: If I remembered the building layout correctly from the purge of the lower zombies, that should be the last wall I would need to cut.

With the moving blade over my head and just as high as the ceiling allowed, I pushed the weapon down and against the wall and sliced thr-

“CRINCK!”, sounded the last chainsaw when it hid some kind of metal bar and exploded in sparks, had its links split, broke free from its mechanism and flew away; not before hit me on the shoulder and, though without cutting thru my armor, causing great pain and, I knew, damage, I suddenly having troubles to move my left arm.

Turing to my pursuer just in time to see it kick a ton of wall fragments from the hole it had created, showing up covered in white plaster powder, my mind went blank. Would I die that pathetically?

The special zombie roared, opening his mouth as much as he could, and dashed, ready to bite off my head. The fear darkened and funneled my vision, and frozen my limbs.

Would I fail to keep my promise to kill all the zombies? Would I die poor and unappreciated?

The mutant undead covered the distance between us in mere instants; there was barely a second to react, and, still, I saw myself in even more desperate places.

Would I leave Morgaine alone?

“NO!”, I shouted while lifting my weapon with a single hand, just enough to its broken blade smash against Target Junior’s face, blinding it so I could jump off its path.

The wall behind me, with metal tubes or not, broke under the impact of Target Junior's body the same way the previous one, and I didn’t lose any more time, didn’t let the mutant undead get up from the pile of wreckage it was buried in, and I followed after the creature to the next room. I had no more weapon, my chainsaw-club completely destroyed, smashed like the metal bar it broke its moving blade, but then I didn’t need the thing anymore: a zombie head showing up thru the barrier pointed the room I used to attack the special zombie the first time and a weak enough section so I could break thru with my own body.

And so I did; giving a dropkick straight at the zombie head, who still could open and close its mouth though was completely immobile under the neck, I crashed a skull as well as a hole on the wall with my metal boots.

Quickly getting up I ran thru the door that I hid myself just a few minutes ago and to the corridor outside. I was covered in sweat, unable to breathe regularly, with something under my ribs hurting, and my wounded shoulder holding me behind more than I thought it would, pulsing and twinging at every step I gave. With a sudden determination boost or not, I couldn’t keep that up for any longer; and listened very well the run of Target Junior, who was then, finally, faster than me.

“Almost… there!”, I said to myself with gritted teeth, seeing the corridor turn just ahead, really close, a second away: “NOW!”, I shouted, finally making the turn to the left at the end of the corridor, already feeling the tip of the mutant undead’s claws.

And met with Morgaine, who, like I in the last time, was stopped there, waiting for the creature to pass by, with her weapon in hand; my twin sister thrust the tip of her chainsaw-lance against the face of Target Junior as soon as this one showed up.

Morgaine’s weapon bend, sparks flew, and the links of the moving blade were basted off and its handle broke in the middle, parts of the weapon scattering everywhere as the special zombie tumbled over, bounced on the floor and suddenly stooped against the exact same place it had when I first attacked it.

“Haha...”, Morgaine laughed, letting her broken metal rod fall on the ground.

“Fuck…!”, I could barely swear between my breaths, bending and resting my hands on my knees.

“Of course it had already regenerated...”, my twin sister pointed that the broken bones covering the thing’s face were already thick and solidly merged together once again when she hit it; her strike then just splitting the bone plates like I did before once again. She hurried to turn to me and add: “We have no choice, let’s fucking run and hope it won't get us!”

Morgaine had already started to drag me in what would be a useless escape trying when I, then, replied, finally listening to the sweet, sweet cracking sounds; and this time wasn’t of bone-cracking:

“No, look!”, the mutant zombie’s limbs were shaking while he tried, like a cat afraid of water and resisting to enter its bathtub, hold on the walls around him. “It worked”, I completed, and the window he had already weakened the first time he shocked against it, finally broke and took part of the walls with it, all the way down.

Morgaine helped me to approach the hole where once there was a window, and said, surprised:

“Fuck, its that broken fence!”, she saw the creature impaled on the metal spike that snuggled up inside the special zombie’s back, showing up again, and then stained in red, only thru Target Junior’s mouth. “We… We did it! We fucking did, haha!”, Morgaine, who was already lending me a shoulder, hugged me, exited. “We postponed our painful and agonizing deaths!”

I would prefer if she had used “escaped” or “avoided” instead of “postponed”, but at that moment I was as much relieved as her, and didn’t pointed that out, just saying:

“Yeah, we did it”, I let myself feel welcomed in my twin sister’s arms and for a moment my tiredness and pains went away. I soon added, though, backing off her: “Or should I say ‘we’re almost there’? In any case, we have to finish that thing before it evolves to regenerate to cure its own spine too. If I remember correctly, there are still two spears on the car, right?”

“Why use the spears when we can shot the thing now?”, Morgaine answered while we walked down the corridor to the stairs and outside.

“We just spend the entire day cleaning this place up, don’t want to kill another horde attracted by gunfire tomorrow… And I want to go home already.”

“Oh, now you said it: it’s usually right at these kinds of moments, when people are the most relaxed that the worst kind of disasters happens.”

“Shut up! It’s usually right after defeating the boss that a moment of peace is given to the player!”, I wouldn’t let Morgaine’s curses happen never again.