Zombie Vacation

The sand that had wedged itself between my toes was irritating. No matter how much I wiggled it would not free itself. I scowled at my bare feet as if to blame them for being so easily violated by sand. Carl’s growling, mangled laugh came from behind me. I snarled back, looking over my shoulder at him, “Shut up.” This was the worst zombie vacation ever.

We had managed to fight our way out of the city and had went South ending up somewhere in Georgia. There had been rumors passed around via radio that there were evacuation stations all throughout the South. Locating them would be easy. The hard part was living long enough to get there. The Infected, they were mutating further. I could see it in Carl. He’d always been more athletic than I could ever hope to be before but his strength had been steadily increasing over the past few weeks. It had been somewhat humorous when he’d underestimated his own strength and over shot a building, but then it was horrifying because it had been a long ass drop.

“Hear anything?” I asked.

Carl went into a crouch and then completely still. His head turn slowly to the right and then to the left. He shook his head. Nothing was coming. Walked over to the edge of the water, shoes in hand in case a quick getaway was needed, and let the water lap at my feet. It was refreshing. The little pebbles between my toes were washed away and my toes were free to wiggle without interference. I walked out a little further into the water until it was just below my knees. I wanted to just dive into the water to escape the harsh beating of the sun’s rays against me, but I didn’t have anything to else to change into and fighting zombies while wet was no more fun than fighting them dry. Besides, I knew Carl would freak if I disappeared from his sight.

I motioned for him to join me but he just shook his head. “What? Are you afraid of water too?” Carl just shook his head, “Don’t want to get wet?” He nodded, “Okay, fine, stay over there.” I watched his shoulders slump and instantly felt guilty, “I’m not mad,” He tilted his head up a bit, “Yes I’m sure.” I smiled when he perked up and went back to being my loyal guard dog.

I spread my arms up and out, ready to catch the next burst of wind when I heard Carl growl. He was down in a crouch, ready, waiting for something. I crossed the beach and stood behind him. I strained my ears to try and hear what he could hear. When the sound of moaning reached me I saw a massive hoard rise and stand on the edge of the cliffs surrounding the beach.

We were cornered and I was the idiot who’d put down her shotgun.