We Were'nt raised to be a Coward CHARGE!!!!!!!
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The wind and rain is stinging your face, your shoes are caked with mud and blood, your lungs and arms and legs are burning from exertion...but your quest is greater than these petty concerns. Flesh yields to simple, psychotic rage. You've had enough...and its time the world knew it.
You charge at the zombie dog, but a hideous long-armed monstrosity flanks you from the left. You stop and turn and corner the zombie into some bushes. You chop its head off, but it gets a good bite of your leg. You shake off the pain, spot a flashlight on the zombie; loot it. To the west you spot a zombie soldier, dressed in full combat gear. To the north are the zombie dog and woman you saw earlier. To the west, a zombie child. And to the south-west, a cluster of motel rooms.
You decide to run through the woods toward the motel rooms, you think you can barricade yourself there and take out the zombies one by one. Along the way you bisect a zombie child and eviscerate a zombie woman. Your mouth curls into a hellish grin as you bound like an antelope toward one of the motels. You juke away from a legless zombie. It scrapes its torso across the pavement, but you are too fast! You leap through the window of the motel, shattering the glass, sending little pieces of it everywhere. You tumble, roll and stand up. You turn around; a host of zombies are climbing through the window! You get to work with your axe and lop limbs left and right.
They keep coming...
Again and again you swing, biting through bone, severing flesh. But they just keep coming, a mess of arms and teeth, lunging and piercing...
And then, it stops. You collapse to the floor in exhaustion. Dead bodies and body-parts are in a neat pile just outside the window. The rain washes the blood away, and with it, perhaps, your anger...for now, anyway...
You pick yourself up and drag some of the cabinets to barricade the broken window and door. You can still hear growling and rasping. At first you think your mind is playing tricks, its done that before, but the sounds are too clear. There are still more of them in the other rooms. Luckily, each room is self-enclosed so you are somewhat safe for now. You sit down on the edge of the bed and examine yourself: your torso has a nasty bite wound. You wince from pain when you try to touch it. Other than that, you are more or less intact, a few bruises on your legs, but nothing to worry about. You lean back on the bed and catch your breath.
What now?