Refuge: Tales from a Zombie Apocalypse
Corpse Pose
Jill walked as silently as she could through the wasteland of abandoned suburbia, keeping her eyes moving in a constant scan of her surroundings. There was at least one zombie following her, its aura an angry red flare that stood out even with houses between them. She needed more, though, many more if she was going to fulfill her "running duty."
When she had finally made it to Refuge, she thought she was done with zombies. She wasn't a fighter. All she had ever been able to do was run, run and run some more. The zombie-sight had kept her alive, since with it she didn't have to worry about stumbling on zombies unaware, but the constant flight, not to mention the loss of everyone she had ever known, left her soul-tired and nervous.
Even after the first rising, when everyone knew the zombies were real, nobody she joined up with would believe that she could see them through buildings, or in the dark. Five groups she had joined, and then left when they wouldn't believe a horde was close and coming towards them.
But she couldn't see when she was sleeping, and she had to sleep in order to have the strength to run, so she kept joining up with other survivors. The sixth group, finally, had brought her to Refuge, an actual fortified human settlement.
She saw a glint of red out of the corner of her eye and spun in a circle, taking a full gestalt impression of her surroundings before peering intently in the direction of the new aura. She now had two zombies approaching from tangent angles, but this other aura was further away, and more spread out – a horde.
She picked her direction and set off at a jog, fighting down panic. She couldn't believe she was running towards a horde instead of putting as much distance between her and them as humanly possible.
Worse, she was running towards them in order to get their attention. She pulled the noisemaker off her belt and held it tight, panting more with fear than with exertion. How did she let them talk her into this?