Chapter 77- Between a rock and a soft place

I stared at the circle in the center of the steering wheel. It had a small icon shaped like a bugle, and I resisted the urge to push on it hard. The noise would only bring the walking dead running to my side, an event I'd prefer to avoid.  I look around, searching for Lou, wondering if something happened to him, something preventing him from opening the gate.  Through the passenger side window I could see two walkers round the corner.  They were the same ones that I had seen on the opposite side of the block, finally catching up to me.  Were there more behind them?  I looked again at the gate, trying to gauge how much time I had. This delay was putting a wrench in the entire plan.  The gate was slow, and even if Lou opened it right now I couldn't make it inside and close it securely behind me before they arrived, and even if I couldI certainly didn't want them rattling the chain link, attracting entire horde to our door.  I needed to draw them away from the gate or dispatch them quietly.  

I looked down at my pistol, the only weapon I really trusted, tucked safely in my belt.  Using it meant making a noise that could be heard for miles, a noise that would attract the mega-horde I'd seen a few blocks away.  A group like that could wash over any facility, any vehicle, and strip it dry.  It was like a wave of human piranhas, ferocious and unyielding. No matter the cost, I could not lead them to us.  I pulled it from my belt and placed it on the dash, removing the temptation entirely.  

I stepped out of the van out onto the black asphalt. The morning air was cool but clear, and the way the wind shifted I couldn't smell the burning fires throughout the city. I grabbed my hammer from the loop on my belt and moved around the van toward the pair.  The one in front wore a baseball shirt and had long, thick hair.  A stain of matted blood ran down its forehead onto its shirt, as though it had lived through some form of head trauma.  It's eyes were caked with the usual yellow-white film, a crusted layer of puss and infection that indicated the virus's hold on an individual. They staggered to the left and then corrected to the right before lunging toward me.  I deftly moved to the right, ducking under a sweeping arm and caught the walker behind the ear with the head of my hammer. It took another step and then crumpled to the ground, lifeless at last.  

I turned to face the second, a stout man wearing a white ribbed tank top.  He was closer than I expected and before I could react he leapt with cat-like grace onto my chest, pushing me to the ground.  I swung my hammer toward his skull but only succeeded in landing a few glancing blows, each one tearing a strip of his delicate flesh from the side of his skull.  White bone gleamed underneath the grey skin and amidst the tumult I found myself memorized by the lack of blood emanating from the wound.  It was as though his blood flow had stopped altogether, congealing in the body wherever it happened to be.  Perhaps that was why they moved so much slower, their ability to lift their limbs was hampered by the gelatinous fluid between their sinews.  

He grabbed my wrists and pushed down onto me forcefully, his yellow eyes frantic and menacing.  His teeth snapped instinctively, as though it were a reflex reaction to being so close to human flesh.  His body was large enough that I couldn't lift him off, and I pushed with all my might just to keep his grisly teeth away from my nose.  His breat stank of dead animal and his skin was dry and coarse.  I could see cracks forming in his joints where sun had burned him and the lack of moisture caused the skin to buckle.  His wide fingers were covered in blood but still too thick to pierce my arms, though he seemed to be stronger than a man in his physical shape should be.  

I didn't feel panic, but couldn't resolve my predicament.  Sooner or later my strength would give out and those teeth would come crashing down onto my face, but I seemed to be doing a decent job of holding him at bay.  If only Lou would show up and dispatch him for me.  I looked up toward the fence, hoping Lou would arrive and see my sprawled on my back.  Still no sign of him.  Do I dare call out to him?  I could handle this one at the moment, but noise would attract others, something I was not eager to face, especially in my current position.  I tried again to hit him with my hammer, but his grip on my forearms prevented my from swinging with any real force.  I tried twisting my arms out of his pudgy hands but could feel my skin searing as though it was more likely to tear off my own bones before slip under his pale dry grip.  

I pulled to the left and then again to the right, hoping to find a way to use his weight against him, flip him onto his back and give me the advantage, but he seemed solid and unmoving.  Perhaps I shouldn't have left my handgun on the dash after all.  I rolled from left to right, over and over, hoping to create momentum that would allow me to force him onto one side. As I moved he seemed to flatten himself like a toad, covering me even more completely. 

My arms began to buckle, my strength waning against his massive form. "This is it" I thought.  "After all I've survived, all I've been through, I'm going to be slowly eaten by the fattest zombie in the city." I closed my eyes and whispered a silent prayer.