Outrun Stories #19

“You want me!?” She screamed, bruised, burnt, torn and panting, holding the shotgun against her shoulder and leaning her back against the door being smashed down by those things, the monsters that came out of the night and have been tearing the city apart.

This is it and she knows it. She’s seen enough action over enough years to know when the game is up, but this time she’s not alone. The kid grabbed onto her almost a week ago now and she’s not been able to shake him.

She looks over at him and growls, almost doesn’t want to shake him now, but what the fuck is he going to do once she’s gone? Last stand here and now, take out as many of them as she can or try and push through, but where to? Nothing’s been working for weeks, no phones, no internet, no radio, no TV, just her and him and her shotgun. He’s good at finding food, she’ll give him that much.

“Fuck!” She screams against these things smashing at the door knocking the wind out of her, over and over. Her grip fastened on the shotgun, she pulls some cartridges from her belt and starts to reload.

“Boy, what do you think?” She shouts over to him, through the screams.

“What did you say they call you?” He pants holding onto his axe.

“The Egyptian Dragon,” she replies pumping the shotgun.

“Show me.”

She closes her eyes and tightens her grip on the gun. Deep breaths, deep breaths charging her, tired muscles tightening, sore heart thumping, broken teeth grinding. “Right fucking here, right fucking now?” She opens her eyes wide and grins an even wider grin.

“The Egyptian Dragon.”

“Fuck!” She roars rolling forward, away from the door, bringing herself upright and turning as the horde bursts through. Blasting, she takes a head off one, pumping the shotgun, another through the chest, another dives and she dodges and smashes the butt of the gun against its skull.

Three down, jellied corpses on the floor of the small room, the rest back away for a second before she starts to blast again. Boom, a corpse, boom, a corpse. They pile up with smoke and blood in the doorway, her sweat and dirt ridden silhouette standing there in a moment of silence.

She turns to the boy. “There’s more coming.”

“You can do it,” he whispers and throws her his axe.

She drops the shotgun and takes a step forward. “This all you got?!” She pulls herself free of the empty belts of cartridges. “You think you’ve got anything on me?!” She pulls off one glove with her teeth. “You think you can fuck with the Egyptian Dragon!?” She pulls off the other and feels the wooden handle of the axe in her grip as the things edge and pause. “Well, fucking come get it.”