Better Off Alone

Nell lifted her injured leg and climbed as quickly as she could. Unsure where the strength came from, she found herself tumbling over to the other side of the fence. Both of her earphones slipped out of her ears, dangling down her shoulders as she scurried back, crab walking away from the zombies eating one of their own.

The zombie who’d tried to grab her had become the meal. Failing to make her their lunch had obviously gotten him into this position. The slurping sounds sickened her, and she held back the urge to throw up.

One of the beasts looked up. The lifeless smear over those familiar eyes did nothing to soften the blow. She recognized the ugly, demented thing with someone else’s blood dripping down her chin. “We’re science buddies,” Becca would say to Nell back in high school. Now she looked at her with hunger and not an ounce of recognition.