hollowly as he brought the meat of it down on top of the closest zombie’s head. The skull wrapped around the bat almost like it had been made for it. Tommy pulled back, blood, hair, gristle and brain clinging to the metal death-dealing device. He had just enough time to swing the bat into the side of the second closest zombie as he stepped out onto the landing. The victory was small; he was outside, but the fence seemed to move further and further away as more zombies came to investigate what the pinging sound was in the back. It was as if they were remembering summers past, watching their kids play in little league games, the sun shining bright and warm as parents talked to other parents about upcoming parties or their jobs. It was the bond that all suburbanites shared before they would occasionally yell out to their kid some words of encouragement.
Tommy could barely hear the roar of engines as they moved further and further away from this desolate spot. The groans of the damned began to dominate. The bat was a blue blur as he smashed it back and forth and up and down, depending on where his adversary was. The heavy viscosity blood covered him from head to toe, if not for the fact that the zombies were converging on him, it would have been impossible for a passerby to not believe he was one of the undead. He kept as much of his weight on his left leg as he pivoted and swung, which wasn’t always easy. It was now his ribs that were beginning to cause him the most pain as his constant shifting made it difficult for them to set properly.
Tommy’s energy levels were flagging as his body pulled resources from everyplace it could in a desperate bid to keep him healthy enough to continue on. He’d killed a dozen zombies and had only made it halfway across the yard. Now he had the added danger that the zombies could attack from any angle. Lizzie, help me , he pleaded internally. A cool breeze swept across the yard, and whether or not it was his ill-fated sister he wasn’t sure. By the time he got to the six-foot fence, his arms felt leaden. He was thankful to be on the side of the fence that had the mid-rail as he wasn’t so sure he would have been able to pull himself up without it. He had a split second as he was swinging his leg over where he almost lost his balance when the zombies slammed into the pickets. He didn’t think he would have just given up, but it would have been much easier; and then maybe he could search for his sister in earnest.
Unlike Heaven, which he could never enter, Hell had an open door policy. Unfortunately, once through the door it was nearly impossible to get back out. To him that didn’t matter, he would have chased after her in that realm forever if that was what it took. If only the fate of the living wasn’t resting so precariously on a certain set of sarcastic shoulders. He’d known for a lot of years it was going to be a Talbot; he’d just not known specifically which one. Mike had his pluses, but he also had a list of negatives that would span pages. Of all the Talbots Tommy had come in contact with, Mike would have probably ranked in the lower half in terms of who he thought would have the best chance of actually succeeding. It wasn’t that Mike was not honorable or brave. No, his biggest detriment was his willingness to run headlong into trouble without so much as a cursory glance at all the ways that it could go wrong and invariably did.
He smiled even as he thought such a thing. Whoever was overseeing the entire event liked threading needles with wet thread in heavy winds. Tommy got over two more fences before he felt secure enough to get onto a roadway. He cut through one more yard before he was finally on the main thoroughfare heading out of town, just catching a glimpse of reflecting sunlight as the Humvee he was chasing crested a small rise in the distance. Tommy followed at a pace he felt he could sustain without too much difficulty. He’d been so lost in his thoughts