《Guts (the original interactive zombie apocalypse survival story)》5 - Machete
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You decide to go with the machete. It's sharp, it's quiet - it's almost perfect...with one exception. You'll have to be very close to the undead to use it. The idea of being near the stench and rot is enough to make you queasy. If ever there was a time to get creative, it would be now, because you do not want to be any closer to them than you absolutely must. There has to be something-
You rummage around the garage, sparing paranoid glances at the garage door. Finally, you spot something to help give the machete length. A mop. It's the kind with the screw-on handle. You twist the handle free, snatch the duct tape off of the workbench, and do your best to fashion the machete on the end. A satisfied smile spreads on your lips as you give it a few test swings, narrowly missing the lamp on the end table. The weapon looks a little awkward, but it'll do the trick easily enough.
With shaky fingers, you pull down a blade of the blinds and peek outside the window. Two undead are wandering over toward your house, and it looks like there's movement in the Honda. Clearly, those two may soon be joined with another undead.
Even from this distance, they're the most gruesome things you've ever seen. Sure, you've seen zombies on television, but now that you see the real thing, the cinema stuff just seems laughably unreal. There is no comparison between real mangled, rotting flesh and torn silicone, oozing fake blood. One of them has shiny red blood all over it. It's clothes and hair are soaked. It looks like it crawled out of a mass of bodies, because there's no way that much red stuff came from one person. The thing beside it looks like it's been chewed up by a giant alligator and spat out. Both sets of eyes look white from where you stand.
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You take some deep breaths, hardy able to believe this is actually happening. Your mind grips for some form of reality, but the only reality is that there are flesh craving living corpses making their way into your yard. It feels like a punch in the face by a stranger. Totally offensive and entirely unexpected. They shouldn't even be real, but here they are. You're in danger. Without a doubt, You'll have to kill them. There's simply no way around it.
You push the table over enough to free the door. Straight out, kill them, and straight back inside, you think. As long as you keep cutting the stragglers down when they wander along, they might not build up to an unmanageable number out there. That's the theory anyway.
Your heart is pounding like a bass drum as you build up the courage to face the undead. You're shaking so much, you almost drop your weapon as the machete's weight shifts from side to side on the mop stick in your sweaty hand. After wiping each hand on your jeans, careful not to drop your weapon, you reach for the door knob-
Suddenly, the door rattles in your hand, causing your heart to leap into your throat. They've made it sooner than you expected...and they're trying to open doors?
"Are you there?" a guy calls from the other side.
You don't remember zombies ever having made words before. Mostly they just want to eat you, not have a conversation.
"Please, we saw you through the window! Please, help us!" a female voice calls in desperation.
"I'm here," you shout back without thinking. They could be bitten or they could kill you for your resources, but you didn't think of that. Your only thought was people.
If you let them in, you won't be alone anymore. It could greatly better your chances of survival if they're on your side. Also, it'll keep them from being turned, thus causing more undead you'll have to deal with outside.
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On the other hand, you have no idea how many people there are and they're going to need food and water - two things of which you're limited. Not to mention the fact that they could team up to get you out of the picture, thus keep more resources for themselves.
"They're coming! PLEASE!" the girl cries frantically.
You have a split second left to decide what you want to do.
Let them in - SKIP TO CHAPTER 8
Ignore them - SKIP TO CHAPTER 9
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