RED

The door bulged as they slammed their bodies against it, his back bouncing off the splintering wood for a moment as he tried desperately to keep the door closed. Red shoved another round into his shotgun and felt along his hip for the large kitchen knife he had strapped there with an old leather belt. The dim sunlight peeked through the drawn shades, leaving stripes on the stained carpet. They rammed the door again. His dog whimpered at the cracking on the wood and backed into a darkened corner, her tail between her legs. Red frowned at the dried blood that caked the Australian Shepherd's fur, clumping it on her side. He wondered whether or not it belonged to her. If she'd been bitten...
No.
Red took a deep breath and pushed his long dark hair from his eyes. Then, clutching his gun, he darted to the window. The door smashed open behind him and the hoard swept into the room, a deluge of decay and rot. The stink instantly filled his nostrils and he grimaced as he ripped the blinds off, heaved the window open and jumped from the two-story bedroom, his dog following behind him.
They landed hard on the dried grass, rolling. A sharp pain shot up his arm as he hit the ground. He groaned. The lich, all trying to scramble out of the open window at the same time, snarled and stared at him, their eyes wild and bloodshot. Some Red could still distinguish as male or female, as previously human. Others had almost no skin left, no cartilage, some no eyes. Their grayed muscles were the only thing keeping one bone connected to another.
Red reached for his gun as one broke from the group and climbed through the window, running toward the edge of the roof and toward him. He raised his shotgun and fired. The lich fell backward onto the shingles, no blood leaking from the hole in its forehead. Another slipped through the window, then another. Red jumped to his feet and ran down the blood-stained sidewalk, his dog at his side and the undead at his heels.

TO BE CONTINUED...


An Original