Y Saturday, February 07, 2009
6:18 pm
Okay I slacked the day away. Least I got L4D working! I'm a happy man.------
Come on Ian, buck up! You can't even hit a straight ball!
Swing, miss.
"Shi-woah WOAH!"
The heavy duty tool smashed into the faded brick wall and lodged itself firmly as Ian slipped on something not quite a banana peel, but he couldn't be assed to find out either way.
Momentum did the rest of the dirty work, as Ian crashed into the walking corpse ahead of him.
Murphy's law did come into effect - albeit for the unlucky zombie. It lost its balance and fell backwards, butt first. A sickening 'shlick' sound emitted from where it fell, and before Ian knew what in the blazes was going on, the infected policeman was screaming in an unholy falsetto and thrashing wildly.
A jagged piece of metal protruded from the infected's midsection, and the screaming soon subsided into guttural utterances, blood foaming at its mouth as its head went limp. A conveniently located, broken off metal pipe spelled its demise.
"OH YEAH! You ugly, UGLY motherfuck!
The sound of hard rubber and canvas against flesh resounded satisfactorily in the dead of the night, at least to Ian. Just to be sure... He paused the brutal kicking and looked at the misshapen body. Not a hint of movement.
Ian felt the sweat beads running down his face more acutely as his reached for the gun in its holster.
Shit those hollywood movies. It's always times like these that they get up and claw your eyes out.
The centimetres narrowed as he reached for that tool of salvation, counting in his head. Three, two..
One.
Nothing.
Fingers wrapping around the cool pistol grip, he let out a short cackle and even rummaged the corpse for ammo. One, two and three spare clips of ammunition. This was his lucky day. Leaning in further, he found a torchlight and a steel whistle. Like hell he'd need that. He'd seen what the wrong noises meant.
A car alarm set off by a greedy car thief set his limbs apart, courtesy of an army of the living dead.
Still, you never know when you might need it.
Hmm, odd. It ain't a very warm day today, and the sun's already out, so why am I sweating?
Ian shifted his gaze upwards and before he knew it, a savage blow sent him spiralling across the concrete.
Looks like the movies were right afterall.
Grunting, he got to his feet and stared the flailing zombie down.
"That hurt, asshole. Honestly, next time, just stay dead."
Ejecting the magazine to check if there was ammo remaining, he cocked the gun and levelled it at the impaled monster's head and squeezed the trigger. Once, twice, and a third time. Just to be sure, just to be sure.
Low groans emanated from deeper into the alley, but Ian was already gone.
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