He had been forced to come to terms with his own mortality, either by his own or the hands of someone else, on more than one occasion, and still nothing had quite prepared him to face potentially dying at the hands of an undead mob. He could not let his mind travel down the path of what it might be like to be ripped open and eaten alive, could not think of much of anything other than the very real fear he felt just then. The smell of this new place was overwhelming - a million dead bodies left to languish in the sun - and he skidded to a halt, preparing to backpedal and take off running in the other direction when the petite woman spun in his direction and removed some sort of baton from her coat.
The smack of the baton on the skull of one of those things had the sound and smell of rotting pumpkin burst open, and Luther was grateful then that he was far too shocked and frightened to bother with anything so menial as a gag reflex. He began running after her at her word, pushing himself forward and feeling his muscles stretch and burn with the effort. He was a physically fit man, but he'd never been faced with the dilemma of outrunning a horde of dead cannibals. In terms of cardio, it was quite the motivator.
The office building he'd just left loomed in front of him, so close but seeming so far with zombies moving in from every angle. It only occurred to him then that he had a gun strapped to his side. A gun with only six bullets, but he hoped that it'd be enough to at least get them back to that hotel place when combined with the woman's rather handy and decidedly more useful baton. It took Luther only a moment of consideration to decide that blunt objects were a far more useful weapon in this world, as her baton would not run out of ammunition any time soon.
"To your left," he called to her when he saw a zombie that was moving decidedly faster than the others closing in on her, his own steps slowing just enough for him to pull his gun out and cock it. He supposed there was always going to be a food chain, even amongst zombies, and he and this woman were live bait enough to call in those at the top.
no subject
The smack of the baton on the skull of one of those things had the sound and smell of rotting pumpkin burst open, and Luther was grateful then that he was far too shocked and frightened to bother with anything so menial as a gag reflex. He began running after her at her word, pushing himself forward and feeling his muscles stretch and burn with the effort. He was a physically fit man, but he'd never been faced with the dilemma of outrunning a horde of dead cannibals. In terms of cardio, it was quite the motivator.
The office building he'd just left loomed in front of him, so close but seeming so far with zombies moving in from every angle. It only occurred to him then that he had a gun strapped to his side. A gun with only six bullets, but he hoped that it'd be enough to at least get them back to that hotel place when combined with the woman's rather handy and decidedly more useful baton. It took Luther only a moment of consideration to decide that blunt objects were a far more useful weapon in this world, as her baton would not run out of ammunition any time soon.
"To your left," he called to her when he saw a zombie that was moving decidedly faster than the others closing in on her, his own steps slowing just enough for him to pull his gun out and cock it. He supposed there was always going to be a food chain, even amongst zombies, and he and this woman were live bait enough to call in those at the top.