A friend of mine is getting interested in Zombie Squad. I used to be real excited about it, but now I'm a little swamped with everything else. So I've been pondering going with him to the first Iowa meeting.
"Target spotted. Over." The radio crackled in Kayla's ear, telling her to hurry. She mumbled a reply and picked her way over the winter grass, blades crunching beneath her feet. She winced at the noise but Kayla knew she wouldn't be heard in the back yard she was making a bee line for.
"No survivors. Repeat no survivors. Over."
Kayla didn't need the radio to tell her that no victim would survive this attack, she could hear it in the screams. Survivors screamed like their lives depended on it. It was harsh, frantic, but still held a note of hope. As they demanded help, they believed a hero would come and rescue them.
Victims knew they would die. Their voices were lower as if it didn't matter how they pushed the octaves. The sounds were full of pain, pleading for it to end, regret for a world lost. And then nothing but sobs that faded to silence.
Kayla stopped as the screaming stopped. All that was left was hurt little noises and sobs. She took a deep breath and adjusted her shoulders, moving the strap that held the shotgun across her back into a better position. She double checked the load on the shotgun in her hand and nodded to herself. "One, two..."
She flew around the broken door in the fence, firing directly at the head of the attacking zombie. Decayed flesh and brains scattered through the yard. Kayla pumped two more shells into the creature, leaving only a stump of neck before stepping back.
The remains of a young man were thrown against the house, a smear of blood showing where he had slid down the siding. The woman that had been the latest snack lay in a bloody mess beneath the zombie. Kayla hadn't adjusted her aim to avoid her. There was no need, she was dead when she stopped screaming.
Kayla stared at the woman, watching her chest frantically drawing in air. Each breath exposed more of the white ribs showing through her skin where the zombie had been munching. Kayla gave her a weak smile before blowing her pretty blonde head into bits. "I'm sorry."
She could have saved bullets if she had pulled the man away from the wall before blowing away his head, but she wasn't sure how long he had been dead. There was no specific time frame for when the virus took hold. Too many of her friends had been killed by handling a dead body suddenly turned zombie.
"Kayla to Treehouse. Yard cleared. Over."
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