Still crouched by the garbage bin, I watched the group and waited for my opportunity. It came sooner than I expected. Fists thudding on glass had them all turning to look at a zombie inside a nearby store.

While they were distracted and not looking this way, I darted across the back alley and ducked behind a house. The wind shifted, and I gritted my teeth as their scent made my throat burn. The humans' fragrance was sweet and enticing as it always was.

It was a deadly temptation though. The taste of human blood or flesh would drive any sane zombie to madness and strip them of their thoughts, control, and identity, reducing them to a mere animal. I refuse to go down that route. I'll stick with rabbits and deer, thank you very much.

I slipped around the house and tried the back door, which was locked. With a quick glance to the side to ensure no humans were in sight, I kicked the door open as quietly as I could and slipped inside.

Peeking out the window, I could see that vehicles and people were spread out across the entire highway, so there was no way for me to run across the surrounding fields undetected. I planned to wait in this house while they looted the stores. After that, they would move on, and so could I.

A hasty check of the house assured me it was empty of both the living and the undead. Thinking quickly, I pushed a couch over to block the broken back door so it remained shut. It wasn't likely that any sane human would dare enter a house, but there was no point in giving them an open invitation.

I retreated upstairs and stared out one of the front windows at the activity below, debating between two plans of action. I remained motionless as the raiders carried supplies from the stores to their vehicles. A faint growl escaped me when I noticed that other groups were beginning to converge on the houses as well.

Seriously? Why are they checking houses? They often have little of value, and it's insanely dangerous for a human to be going into buildings that could potentially hold zombies.

If nothing else, it ended my debate of my two main options. I lifted the windowpane up to open it, and the smell of the humans immediately wafted in, making me growl in annoyance as I waited.

When a group approached the front door of the house I was in, I raised my voice just enough for those below to hear me. "Who are you?"

The group jerked to a halt and swiftly began looking around for the owner of the voice. I wasn't standing close to the window, so it took a few seconds for someone to spot me.

A man called up, "Sorry, we didn't know you were in there. We're from Reddrick Stronghold. Do you need a lift?"

There was no way I could ride in an enclosed vehicle with humans without bloodshed. Not with the bloodlust that plagued me. Besides, the instant they found out I was a zombie, they'd probably change their minds and rescind their offer. Or try to kill me. Possibly both. I wasn't very optimistic today.

Instead of answering their question, I asked another one. "Have you ever met a woman named Jess Kessler?"

They muttered amongst themselves, unaware I could hear every word as all but one came to the conclusion that they hadn't.

"I met someone called Jessica once, but I don't know her last name," a woman called back.

"What did she look like?" I tried to keep my tone halfway polite, but I still sounded more grouchy than anything else.

"Tall, curly blonde hair."

I shook my head. "Not her then. Leave this house alone, but feel free to raid the rest."

With that, I slammed the window down and walked out of their sight. I tilted my head as I strained my ears to catch their quiet murmuring.

"Wow..."

"No kidding."

"Do we skip this house?"

"She'll be trapped in there when those zombies come back. I'll go find Mike and see how he wants to root her out of there. We'll probably leave her in there until the vehicles are full of supplies and then we can take her with us."

I should have known they wouldn't cooperate. Humans rarely did. The clock was ticking. I ran downstairs to a window at the back of the house. I slid it open and checked outside. No one was in sight, so I climbed out and darted across to the third row of buildings.

With yet another growl, I flattened myself against the side of a house, belatedly noticing that some vehicles were over here as well. There was a wide expanse of grass between me and the nearest section of forest. It was far too much open area for me to risk crossing with so many people around.

Since they planned on leaving when their vans were full, I decided to wait them out in the fashion that only a zombie could. The door on this house was unlocked, so I let myself in. The open cabinets and drawers were evidence that someone had already helped themselves to the supplies.

I avoided the windows while keeping an eye on the raiders' progress. They had already abandoned the stores, so there must not have been much left in any of those places. That left the houses, and they were going through them faster than I had anticipated. As far as I could tell, they were only taking food.

So much for hoping they wouldn't enter this house... I only had one other plan in reserve, so this group had better quit while they were ahead.

House by house, they got closer. A truck moved in front of the house I was hiding in, and a group headed for the front door.

With reluctant footsteps, I stalked into the bathroom before closing the door behind me and locking it. I glanced at the short, brown-haired woman in the mirror before dismissing my reflection. My own appearance had barely changed when I turned. I was stronger and faster, but that wasn't exactly a visible difference.

I stilled as the group banged on the front door several times. When no zombies came out to play, the door creaked open and five sets of boots started scoping the place out in an organized fashion.

I crossed my arms with a faint huff and waited for them to try the door handle. All it would take was a decent snarl, and they'd avoid this room like the plague. Still, the wait and their presence was ticking me off. Allowing them to push me around, even if they weren't aware of it, chafed against my Nightstalker instincts like sandpaper on road rash.

Three sets of footsteps focused on the kitchen while the other two checked the rest of the house. The door handle beside me jiggled as someone tried to turn it. I released a snarl while instinctively dropping into a crouch with my hands slightly away from my sides.

The person took an immediate step back. "Hey, Joe. We got a zombie in the bathroom."

"Since no one else has let it out, there might be some medicine in there. Give us a minute to pack this outside first. Slim pickings, so someone obviously beat us to it."

Blast it. Out of all the humans to survive the zombie apocalypse, why do I have to deal with these persistent idiots? Their intention to enter the bathroom wasn't part of my plan and annoyed me enough that I glared at the door with another growl. I had never heard of a human willingly entering a room with a zombie in it. They obviously needed their heads checked. Or to be put into protective custody.

I stepped sideways to the cloudy bathroom window and tried to undo the small locking latch. If they came into the bathroom, I was jumping out the window and racing for the trees. This group was obviously used to taking on zombies and winning. I'm not about to let another group of humans try to kill me in the name of humanity.

The people walking around the house finally stood still. All of them.

"Alright. We're ready whenever you are."

"The door's locked. It's just a common twist lock. Does anyone have a nail to pop it?"

I growled again and pulled on the small window lock, trying to figure out how to open this type. As far as I could tell, it was jammed. My luck kept rolling downhill like a bowling ball down a mountainside, which only pissed me off more.

My vision took on a deeper red tint as my anger strengthened. With a snarl, I slammed my palm against the lever, breaking the base completely out of the wood with a bang.

"Joe, we might have a Runner in there." The voice sounded somewhat cautious this time.

Idiot. About time you got a few of your brain cells functioning properly.

"No problem. Let me alert Cindy so her group is prepared, and we're good to go."

Apparently, Idiot #2 was still behind in the intelligence race.

"Idiots..." I muttered irritably. There was no chance of them hearing my low grumble, and I certainly wasn't about to stop to have another conversation with these guys.

I wasn't sure how anyone planned on getting a fast-moving zombie out of a small room in the back of a house without getting bitten, but I wasn't about to stick around to find out. I pushed the window open and jumped up on the windowsill, cautiously peeking outside in case there were more of the idiots around.

There was a pop as the lock failed, then a faint groan as the door hinges swung open. I jumped out and glanced back as I started to run.

Two surprised faces stared at my retreating figure. "Shit! Danny! We got another survivor running out back!"

Another voice called out, "We mean you no harm! Slow down!"

Right. I've heard that line before. As if I'm going to fall for that again.

I didn't slow down or turn back, keeping all traces of my fluid crouch from my run. Run like a human. Run at human speed. As long as they thought I was a human, they probably wouldn't shoot at me. A bullet couldn't truly kill me, but I had no desire to get shot. Again. Bullets hurt like hell.

It probably hadn't occurred to them that I might be a sane zombie. I was too fast for a Runner, and Nightstalkers were rare and usually restricted to the darkness of night. There was another zombie out there called a Terror that was faster and stronger than a Nightstalker, or so the radio broadcasts during the outbreaks had reported, but they were much rarer than Nightstalkers; so much so, that I had never seen or even smelled one.

Several vehicles out of my line of sight revved their engines as tires spun, trying to get traction. I picked up my speed slightly, still not even halfway across the field. A car and truck rounded different corners, drifting from their newfound speed. The car was closer and accelerated right in my direction.

Their persistence was irritating me further, and I didn't have much patience to start with. I'm about ready to strangle someone at this point. I obviously want nothing to do with them. Why are humans so bloody persistent?

I altered my direction slightly and ran a bit faster, although the ground shook as the vehicles closed in. The car and truck angled toward each other before slamming on their brakes as they tried to form a roadblock. The car slid right in front of me, close enough that I could feel the heat from the engine as the front of the car went by me. It was so close that I didn't even have enough room to slow down.

Not that slowing down had been in any of my plans to start with.

They had probably intended for me to bang into the vehicle in my headlong run and take a bit of time to recover, but I had other ideas. With inhuman reflexes, I planted my hands on the top edge of the roof and let my speed throw me into a mid-air somersault like a demented game of leapfrog.

I landed on the other side of the car and resumed my previous run before they had a chance to realize what I had just done. The thick forest loomed ahead of me, beckoning me into its sheltering undergrowth.

Other vehicles raced over as they tried to adapt to my unforeseen strategy. Even running at a human speed, I was going faster than the two closest vehicles could turn around. I darted into the trees before they could improvise their foiled plan. Now in the underbrush, I darted off at a ninety-degree angle and continued zig-zagging deeper into the forest.

I paused and glanced back while listening, able to pick out faint, muffled voices, but it sounded like they had all stopped at the tree line. None were even attempting to follow me. Good.

I turned and headed deeper into the forest, resuming my usual slightly crouched run as I weaved effortlessly through the trees. It was time to collect Chloe and vacate this area.

---

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