She was trapped and she appeared to have given up. She had taken to clinging onto the tree and waiting, it seems. Waiting for what exactly, he had no idea. He was hiding with his back against the apartment block; if just one of those things saw him he would be dead. Dead and eaten. He looked at his big old, rusty knife in his hand and then out at the crowd of them at the bottom of the tree. He still had no idea exactly how he was going to get them away from her.
The tree was against a fence, one of the tall metal types with twisted, shaved spikes on the ends. It looked pretty lethal, but it made sense. Even though the tree was not close enough to overhang the fence, there may be another way. If he could get to the other side of that fence, maybe he could get her to jump across. That way she would be jumping away from the predators and putting a fence in the way at the same time. The only way to get on the other side of that fence was to run around the apartment block, along the river and climb over a grassy mound. Then he would be on the zombie-free side. He popped his head around the corner to take another look at the situation. The noise was immense, a huge echoing groan from many deep voices. It didn’t do much for his nerves, that’s for sure. He tried to guess how many there were squirming around the bottom of the tree and he stopped after about sixty.
Two strays had left the group and were walking towards him. He hid again. They hadn’t seen him, not yet anyway. He backed into a sunken doorway and stood dead still in the shadows. He could hear the dragging of four feet growing louder. Their hungry snorts and sniffs becoming increasingly more separate from the background drone. He could see them, about twenty metres away from him. If they kept walking the way they were walking, they would go straight past. One of them was naked and Grant realised that the scraping sound was actually the sound of worn down bare feet scraping along tarmac. If he hadn’t been a butcher he would’ve emptied the contents of his stomach all over this doorway, thats for sure. Luckily for him, he was tough with this kind of thing. ┬áThe two disgusting corpses carried on walking past. He felt his stomach turn a little as he looked at those scraping feet once again and then something brushed against his leg. He almost screamed and physically had to bring his hand up to cover his mouth. He lifted his leg up in response and looked down. His heart was pounding. Two bright flashes from the darkness by his feet and a slight purr. A cat, ginger from what he could tell, was looking back up at him. It brushed against his leg again. He carefully placed his foot back on the ground as a sharp pain shot right through his knee again. He winced silently and looked back out at the two strays who now, having passed by enough to have their backs to him, were about thirty metres away.
The cat let out the loudest miaow he had ever heard and his immediate response walk to look down, shove it across the doorway as hard as he could with his foot which in turn sent another shooting pain up his leg.
“Shhhhit”, he whispered. He looked at the strays. One of them had heard it and it had stopped in it’s tracks. The naked one was still walking but it had begun to listen to the other one. The other was waiting, and making a grunt noise that sounded like a dog sniffing a rabbit out of a hole. It was still and breathing ridiculously quickly, or at least it sounded like it was, and it was waiting. Waiting for another sound. He held his breath, his knee was throbbing and there was an attention seeking cat rubbing against his right shin but he held his breath. The cat purred a small vocal purr. He didn’t think they heard that as their behaviour stayed the same. Poised and staring right at him. He must have been in the shadow of the doorway enough or they would have been over here by now, they couldn’t see, he was sure of that. The naked one turned now too, picking up on whatever signs the other on was giving off. They were both paused and waiting for a sound. They started walking towards him. That sound of flesh dragging along tarmac made him cringe. The cat meowed again, and this one was loud. The changes in the two approaching strays were both immediate and frantic; they were instantly rabid. Snarling and drooling as they practically sprinted towards him. The scraping sounds had turned to thudding as the fleshy stumps slammed into the tarmac, one after the other.
He kicked the cat and he ran, his knee was holding up surprisingly well as he cornered the apartments and turned back onto the riverside path. He looked behind him and they were following, thankfully just the two of them. He looked at the boat which was over to his left. Along the path to his right was the metal fence that would lead to a tree with a girl in it. He looked down at his knife and turned right.