The Undead. The First Seven Days (The Undead #1-7 )

by R.R. Haywood

An explosion of motion and her arms grab hard, pulling my head into her chest as her heart-rate goes nuts and my world fills with soft breasts squishing into the side of my face. Which at any other time would be quite nice.

We move up to the front door of the house next to the parked Range Rover. The door is shut and locked. I knock several times. ‘Hello, anyone there? We’re not zombies … we promise.’

How he isn’t covered in blood and bits of body is beyond me. I do, however, spot a single chunk of what looks like a bit of sticky brain on his shoulder. I reach out to flick it free but it gets stuck to my fingers and I try to shake it off, but the bloody thing won’t go, and I flick at it with my other hand, but it gets stuck to that one instead, like a sticky bogey. I keep shaking my hand but it won’t budge, and I start waving my hand vigorously.

‘Listen lads, they’re slow now but don’t stand and fight them. We just need to get through, that’s it. Once we’re in the open, we can move much quicker than them, just watch out for any weirdo super zombies doing crossword puzzles.’