Reeling in the Zombie Apocalypse 2

To be continued...

The Zombies must hear the door open because they turn around. Luckily, both are pretty battered and the stairwell is right by the door to medical records. I open the door to the stairwell and pull it closed tightly behind me. I hear the zombies scratching as they move my way but I don't wait to listen to them. I need to get to Jenny.

I run up the stairs, glad to see no other beings alive or dead on the stairwell.

I open the upper door cautiously but luckily there is no one there either. I don't see another being until I am about a foot from the exit.

The person I see is heading my way. They have the uniform of a security guard and they are running which makes me fairly confident they are not a zombie. I think about staying to ask for any information he has when I notice that his arm is bleeding.

I don't know much about the current outbreak but I do know that in Zombie movies anyone who gets bit is a goner and I have no idea how much time this guy has.

The fact that he hasn't said a word makes me super nervous. Wouldn't a normal person beg for help or call out for me to run? I don't wait around. I run through the door, not bothering to close it on my way out.

I manage to get to my car which is right across the street. I do a quick check to make sure that there is nothing moving inside the car. I am pretty confident that it is safe but I don't want to take chances.

I get onto the road and am not surprised to find edge to edge traffic. Everyone and their brother are trying to get out of the city.

I only live a few blocks away so I think I can wait until the traffic starts moving. I think we must be waiting on a red light. Of course, I don't have any such luck. After five minutes of honking cars nothing is moving. I decide to get out of my car and hoof it home. I keep worrying about Jenny being alone.

As I get to the intersection, I can see why the traffic isn't moving. There is a ten car pile up ahead and zombies are munching on the bodies of the dead and the survivors alike. Luckily, with the zombie buffet ahead no one seems to notice as I run past. Apparently, the blood and guts from the crash has drawn all the zombies from the area and I don't see anymore as I run up Cherry Street and my house comes into sight.

I open the front door.

"Jenny?" I call. I can feel my heart pounding both from exertion and from fear.

"I'm here," she calls from the stairs. I am shocked by her paleness. I inspect her for bites or wounds but find none.

"My mom called. The outbreak is everywhere. She and my dad have locked themselves in the house but they just saw Mrs. Jones get mauled. She lost half her face. Then, she got up and started walking again. Mom saw Mr. Jones run her down with a lawnmower. It was-"

"We have to get out of here," I say, cutting her off.

Jenny just nods. She is in shock and I don't blame her.

"Did you do what I asked?"

She nods.

I grab my Piscifun gear and the bags Jenny has packed and throw them in the back of the Yukon.

"Get in the car!" I call to Jenny. She is too shocked not to obey. I wait until she is buckled into her seat before I open the garage door. Apparently, the zombie buffet ran out of bodies because in front of our door are about a dozen creatures. All of them with fatal injuries. Three of them are missing large chunks from their faces. Jenny screams beside me and I hope she doesn't pass out.

"Grab one of those reels and unpack it," I tell her. She needs something to do with her hands and it is the only idea coming to me.

She opens the reel up and hands it to me.

I hit the gas and the zombies go flying like bowling pins but that doesn't keep more from pounding on the glass. I can't risk them breaking it. Without windows we don't stand a chance.

"Steer," I order, grabbing the reel from her lap.

I put on my Piscifun waterproof fishing glove. I need to make sure there is no chance of getting bitten while I am bashing in Zombie heads. I hope the glove is enough protection.

I open the window and hit the gas. Jenny seems to be reading my mind and I can tell she is horrified but she steers the car so that my gloved hand and the Piscifun reel bash the zombies in the face while they are trying to get through the open window.

Luckily, this throws them off balance and makes them tumble forward. I don't try to count how many are smashed under the wheels.

"Not the main road," I warn Jenny as we approach the end of our street. "Take the back way to my parent's house."