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Barbra pulled Ben too his feet as the Copeland girl made short work of her father, tearing out his throat and dropping him like a sack of potatoes against the wall. It was over even before he hit the ground, leaving the magnum out of reach as the windows behind her shambling form gave way and more began spilling inside.

"This way," Ben said pulling Barbra toward the hallway when she noticed the shotgun leaning against the wall.

She grabbed for it unaware if it's loaded during all the ruckus as they pushed down the hallway toward the kitchen. Ben nearly wiped out on blood coming from the noisy door to their left, but nearly fell watching the things eating what was left of Tomas in the doorway. Barbra pushed Ben up the stairs as the living room door burst open and they came flooding inside, leering hungrily at them as they backed up the steps. It wasn't long before the things began to shamble up the steps carrying pieces of their friend with them, giving chase as Ben and Barbra ran into a side bedroom.

Ben shut the door behind him looking for something to brace against it as Barbra crossed the room to the window. She glanced outside and spotted a tree above the a clear spot in the lawn as dozens of the things converged on the house, probably drawn by the fire in the field some distance away. Ben was going for the bureau when the door began to jiggle and thump violently behind him forcing to throw his weight on it. The jamb cracked loudly as the hands pummeled away on the wooden door as he pressed himself against it.

"Shit," he groaned.

"Ben," Barbra said lifting the window up and waving to him, "c'mon!"

"No, they'll get in. I'm only going to slow you down!" he said warned wincing as the wound bounced against the door.

"You're not hurt bad, c'mon!" she pleaded.

"Go, I'll hold them off until you get back." he said with a warm smile, "I'll wait for you here."

Barbra gritted her teeth then ran to him and took his muzzle to her own in a brief deep kiss.

"You better be here," she growled, "I'm going to find you."

"You will," he said smiling warmly. "Now go, get to McKeesport. It's your only chance."

She slowly shook her head in disbelief and said, "Goddamit Ben. I'll be back."

She hurried out the window onto the roof of the veranda with the shotgun tucked under her arm as the shapes below continued on mindlessly toward the house. She tossed the gun as far as she throw it, then reached out for the nearest branch and began crawling like hell for the trunk. Ben watched as she disappeared into the night, full of fury and vigor like that moment he found her on the road. He took the wedding ring from his pocket, the only momento he had from his life before and tossed it at the window. It thumped off the windowsill and rolled into the gutter where it was gone from sight. Gathering himself up, he jumped away from the door as it shuddered and began to physically split from the dozens of hands pounding on it. He pulled his belt off and wrapped it tightly around his hand as the door gave way and the creatures began to file in, their dead hungry eyes alight with violence.

"Alright son of a bitch," he spat taking a fighters stance, "let's dance."

The first one to lunge was a cheetah man with half his face gone as the leather bound hand crashed into it's temple knocking him down. The next one came quickly, but Ben put away its ambitions of making him a meal with one knock-out blow. More and more pushed through crowding him quickly as he dealt blow after blow, even knocking one out the window as it stumbled off the veranda onto the picket fence below. There it would stay until morning, impaled right above a set of ripe tomatoes fit for a feast.

---

Barbra had made it down moments before and grabbed the shotgun before hurrying along the lawn toward the highway. They were everywhere by the dozens in the moonlit field, stumbling toward the dying fire left by the explosion from earlier in the night. She past what might have been Judith on the grass with a half a dozen of them pulling pieces off the burnt corpse which still had running shoes on it's feet. She headed toward the woods ahead and dove into the shadows as they lumbered past unaware of her presence as the house behind her became overrun.

She stumbled through the underbrush and tried to keep her distance when they got to close by shoving them back with the shotgun. She hurried along into an open clearing, the sky above the trees getting lighter as she approached the interstate just beyond. She could smell smoke but couldn't figure out from what direction it was coming from. Behind her the woods were alive with the sound of footsteps and heavy crashing in the brush, forcing her to take action soon. She began to cross the clearing, shouldering the shotgun and holding the strap tight so as it get gone before they showed up.

Like some hellish visage he showed up at the edge of the clearing, stumbling and shambling as if drunk. Johnny's eyes were like blank openings in his head, staring fruitlessly into the distance as the pupils had shrank to near nothing in his final moments. His head lolled at an obscene angle with each jostling movement he made while his bloodied clothes were dirt ridden and sticky.

"Johnny," she moaned softly as he drew closer and began to lift his head.

It craned violently above the torn hole left by the wolf and his blue eyes had begun to milk over as they swiveled fruitlessly in their sockets. His nose began to perk up a bit and his drunken walk began to pick up speed, almost as if he known she was there. Hot burning tears made their way down her face as she fought back the cry looming behind her lips. It only clicked that he was now like the Copeland girl, a mere shadow of his former self.

No, her mind cried in protest, he's hurt! He needs help!

Another part of her mind spoke up, urging her in the opposite direction.

Kill him! Kill him before he kills you, it shrieked.

She grit her teeth and pumped the shotgun, leveling it off with her finger on the trigger.

Aim for the face, she thought vehemently as the tears burned her eyes and skin just below her soft fur.

She wasn't prepared for the kick of the gun much less being knocked on her back by the force, only that she saw blood spray and she was looking up at the moon. She choked out a cry but felt nothing come forward making an empty sound that echoed to the cold fire of the stars beyond. But the silence she thought she had earned was suddenly broken by the grunt of something coming closer. She looked up and saw his shape silhouetted against the moon, half his shoulder gone as the crazed face fell toward her like a nightmarish meteorite. She dove left as Johnny crashed face down on the ground but found herself struggling as he ripped at her dress.

He was on top of her in an instant snapping and clawing at her like a wild beast as they rolled through the dew covered grass. She managed to hold him away as the fight continued dragging across the wet grass as they struggled for purchase like a pair of young lovers romping in pleasures untold. She struck something hard and the world went wild for a moment as they rolled again, this time breaking her free of his grip as he lay stuck to the ground. Her breast hurt only to realize there was blood upon it as she peeled back the fabric and with a sigh of relief found it wasn't hers. She looked back at Johnny, who was pinned like a bug squirming to free itself from a needle holding it down. Protruding from his chest was a thick broken root covered in gore, looking black in the moonlight as he fought to free himself.

She grabbed a rock and straddling him, proceeded to lift it as high as she could before his hands were all over her, pulling and yanking at her clothes. She let out a primal scream as the rock came down and glanced off his forehead, pulling it back up and repeating. Blood and gore sprayed across her as she beat the abomination to death as it's hands scrabbled weakly following a loud crack that signaled it's doom. When it was over she threw her head back and roared to the inky bowl of the sky above her.

The interstate was quiet as a tomb, the only thing visible was the source of the fire in which an older RV had burned on the side of the road. The soft pat of her feet on the pavement was the only sound greeting her as the constant thrum of her racing heart filled in the rest of the noise. She dropped her shoes somewhere in the woods but now wasn't the time to get them.

I have to keep going, she thought to herself, I have to get to Willard.

Her blood chilled as the sound of distant gunfire punctuated the silence, forcing her to slow down and scan the area. Her ears craned wildly but was unable to pinpoint the source before picking up her pace. The best she could tell it was sometime after midnight though her watch had stopped working sometime ago. Her body was telling her it was far later than it was though it was tough to gauge with all the glare from the lights.

She was padding along with the shotgun ready though her shoulder hurt like hell was probably dislocated. The heat from the asphalt soothed her tired paws after maybe a few miles of walking she hit a dark patch. Here the lights were further and further apart, the trees opening up to the rolling hills of Pennsylvania bathed in the light of the sinking moon. She hadn't seen a car once out here but kept her head on a swivel to make sure one didn't sneak up on her. She shivered from the cold chill nipping at the wind and the dress was a bit in shambles, leaving her exposed to the elements. She came across another RV that was parked wildly on the shoulder and it's side door flapping in the wind. Her heart sunk when she saw bullet holes riddling the door and the windows were covered. She pulled the gun close to her as she approached the unwieldy beast of a motorhome and had too take a step back. From the inky darkness a strong chemical stench emanated that was choking her to the point she would have to abandon it.

She covered her nose and peeked inside as the stench began to burn her eyes as well. There was what appeared to be blood on the floor and dozens of broken bottles on the ground, a few pieces of glassware on the wall length bench that reminded her of her high school chemistry class. She backed away as a scream erupted into the night, long and loud before abruptly cutting off. She shivered and began walking faster, hoping to leave behind the strange vehicle and whatever caused the scream.

At one point she saw transmission towers, long skeletal structures that looked like odd metallic trees carrying electrical lines the size of sewer pipe into both horizons, one was in flames near the bottom. The skid marks on the asphalt and grass were telltale evidence something bad happened here, ending with the car way beyond help. She came upon a road sign, weary and tired as her throbbing shoulder protested from lugging the firearm about. A glimmer of hope flashed on her face as her weary eyes read the letters: WILLARD 10 MILES.

She began to pick up the pace, feeling lighter in her steps that help was soon to come. Something nagged at her inside, though, what would become of Ben should she return and he was gone? She turned back to the horizon and looked back through the trees to the farmhouse.

A

A young busty doe stumbled through the wet grass toward the noise ahead. Her nipple tassels were swinging ineffectively in the wind as her still firm breasts were jostled about by each step she took. From a distance she was the epitomy of male desire, young and firm, with innocent brown eyes and wearing nothing more than her G-string. Upon closer inspection one would find the infected bite on her inner thigh that only hours before had killed her in a manner most befitting a book of it's own. Now her brown eyes were dim and lifeless, her lithe and graceful body uncoordinated and her mind set on the hunger driving her mad.

The trees broke as she followed the crowd, nearly a hundred deep as they converged on the lonesome farmhouse just beyond her reach. Beside her was a man dressed in scrubs thick with the blood of his patients too sick to get away from his gnawing teeth as a well polished scalpel glinted from his shoulder. Still further on amid the crowd was a young boy still clutching his ball, though he didn't have the foggiest what it was or why it mattered so much to him. A grey muzzle stricken with arthritis in life was continuing to struggle fruitlessly in death fumbling to the ground and crawling as his ankle broke.

A burning truck which had been Joe's Aluminum Welding Service was now just an empty shell of twisted metal while others fought for parts of what remained of Judith Cortez. She was so lucky that her body did not return, her brain boiled within her skull at the moment of her death before being jettisoned from the vehicle. Further down were more of them lumbering about the barn as one tugged at the gas pump in curious frustration.

The front door was open now hanging by it's hinges as it had been beaten in by the army of things now stumbling through the former residence. Helen Copeland crawled from the room from where she had died, tattered and much animate as she closed in on what was left of her husband in front of her. Tomas Cortez was nothing more than a distant memory on the kitchen floor, the bloodied aftermath of his grisly death saving Mrs. Copeland remained by the open backdoor. Upstairs several of the things were beating on a closed door and being answered by growling and snarling from within.

Cheryl Copeland was far beyond the house now following the crowd as it surged into the countryside. She climbed through a broken fence, navigating roughly through the broken wooden beams into the field beyond it. It would be dawn before she would run across anything worth satisfying her undying hunger which gnawed at her, but for now her true spirit was free from the hell that her body was now anchored to. Among her group was a clown still in makeup clutching at his chest with a perplexed look on it's face as though the action didn't make sense.

A woman in a power suit, possibly a banker if she knew exactly what that was, was slurping hungrily at the bones of a fallen feral horse which had been gutted of all the good stuff. Cheryl pressed on, not wanting to pick at bones. Distant gunfire drew her glassy gaze toward the sound as the others followed, moving in unison without clear intention of why. By the time she arrived they were all over carrying limbs and half chewed pieces, what was left was a face hidden by a chemical mask and part of a yellow suit that her new mind didn't recognize.

She heard a thundering sound in the distance and briefly looked up to see a strange bird roaring across the sky with blinking lights upon it's belly. A bright light shown from it's nose and began sweeping across the crowd in the field before turning and leaving in much the same way it did. She was bombarded by a tornado of wind as it thundered audibly overhead. The night would progress with the sound of them getting louder as just before dawn she came to the edge of a harshly lit clearing. Silver diamond fencing was lining the perimeter as dozens of men in uniforms scurried about with boxes and things she couldn't identify. Her mind called up a foggy image of the yellow behemoth dropping off people at the opening, something called a....skool...skul...bus...

She frowned perplexed as she began moving toward the strange place. She glanced around quietly elated that the crowd was nowhere in sight and that her hunger would be fed as soon as got closer. The harsh glare of quartz halogen light towers facing the blockade gave her cover as she came to the fence and pressed against it. It would give but only a bit and that frustrated her as another came out of the woods and reached the fence. He grunted and growled pushing on it, only to be met with the strange blacks that belched fire from the green men. The grey muzzle barely stood a change as he was torn to pieces by the fire sticks in seconds, eliciting screams from the people inside as man with a loud voice boomed in her ears.

"Its alright folks, the Willard Rescue Center is safe. Continue on into processing." he roared.

Cheryl knew she had to get inside, but she also had to avoid the Green Men and the Loud Man to do it. A foggy thought of her climbing came to her, though she couldn't recall what it was the action was called that she was seeing. She put her fingers into the diamonds and began to pull, feeling herself lifting up as she tried again. She came down with soft thud having pulled herself over the fence in a back corner of camp, Cheryl rose up and began to lumber toward the large green pyramids lining the southern end. She stayed in the shadows to avoid the green men and moved along large semi-sized containers. There was some scuffling nearby as a loud whisper perked up her ears.

"Goddamit," a pained moan came from beyond a wall of boxes, "I told you no spit."

"Sorry baby, fresh out Vaseline." another said as she peered through the hole.

Two of the Green Men were hiding behind the containers, one thrusting away behind the other as they held onto the container. One looked stranger than the other, the one against the container had longer hair and the front of the shirt bulged, while the other wore no shirt and both their pants were down. Cheryl began to hurt again from down there, but her new mind wouldn't process it and began overriding her with hunger pangs. She began to step forward when a cough from nearby drew her attention away.

"Oh my God you didn't just-" the pair continued.

"Shut up, they'll hear you!" the other warned.

Cheryl was well beyond their argument when she heard voices beyond the green pyramids. Some laughing and some were crying, others were whispered softly. She could see light below and much to her surprise, she slid into a dimly lit room with dozens of cots and people milling about, unaware that she was there. In front of her was Aardvark man coughing as he shifted to get into better sleeping position. He was alone and the others wouldn't miss him as she closed her teeth around his neck and tore into it. He let out choked cough as blood spewed from his mouth, but it was too thick from him to alert the others as she dove into his soft belly next. Thankfully the pot bellied man was shirtless, it was all too easy for her teeth to make short work of his skin as she dove into his abdominal cavity. The man wretched and struggled in his dying moments as Cheryl pulled his intestines to her mouth and began to chew.

"MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY!" a piercing call alerted her to danger.

A young cheetah cub was clinging to it's mother in fear as panic erupted in the tent. Cheryl wasn't going to miss out on her feast rose up and let a shriek out of her bloodied maw, stumbling toward the still screaming creature. Suddenly a loud piercing siren roared to life outside, like the ones that uses to play before a tornado, but Cheryl ignored them even as the fire sticks roared away outside. She was hell bent on finishing her meal that she dove for the mother as she get up to flee. Cheryl's teeth sank into the woman's calf and dropped her like a stone as people scrambled to get her cubs to safety. A big portion of muscle tore away as her blood frenzied mind was set getting to the prize just beyond the woman's skin.

"RUN!" she screamed in pain as she fought Cheryl away, only to lose a few fingers in the process.

The creature shrieked in horror as the bones snapped and muscle ripped, Cheryl enjoying the symphony of sounds filling her wild mind. Straddling the woman she tore away her shirt and gazed down at the belly full of treats she would come to know shortly. She dove in tearing the flesh into an oblong hole as the thing below her shrieked in unimagined agony and just like before Cheryl reached her narrow fingers inside and pulled until it split open. The thing let out a final cry of unbearable agony before choking on blood from ruptured organs as Cheryl ripped into her by planting her face into the gaping wound.

To be continued....