Page 11 of My Undead Love Life

A corpse dropped backward through the window opening.

Another immediately replaced it.

I pulled the trigger once more.

Nothing.

The absence of recoil hollowed me out.

For half a second, I just stared at the rifle in disbelief while the dead surged deeper into the subway car. My chest tightened painfully as the reality hit me harder than any bite could have.

Empty.

My rifle was empty.

“Shit.”

A zombie shrieked and launched itself across the subway seats toward me, teeth bared and slick with blackened blood. I barely reacted in time, slamming the rifle into its face hard enough to crack its skull sideways. The impact rattled painfully through my arms.

I stumbled backward.

More undead crowded behind it immediately, twitching hands grasping desperately for me through the haze of smoke. Their groans rose louder, almost excited. They knew I was cornered.

I reached automatically for another magazine on my vest before realizing there wasn’t time. There wasn’t enough time to reload. The horde was already inside.

The subway car had become a coffin—my coffin, if I couldn’t get out in time.

My breathing came fast and uneven as panic clawed its way up my throat. The undead staggered closer over piles of bodies and shattered glass, arms stretching toward me.

I scanned my surroundings before my gaze landed on the shattered subway window behind me. Cold tunnel air rushed through the jagged opening alongside the deafening groans of the horde outside. Snowy wind from somewhere deeper underground brushed faintly against my sweat-soaked skin.

There was only one way out.

That was it.

The dead closed in around me, their snarls echoing through the cramped subway car as grasping hands nearly reached my jacket.

I bolted.

A corpse managed to grab my jacket as I vaulted toward the broken window. Rotting fingers tangled into the fabric hard enough to jerk me backward. The thing snarled directly in my ear, its breath hot and putrid against my skin, reeking of spoiled meat and old blood.

I ripped free anyway and hurled myself through the jagged opening.

Pain ripped through my arm instantly. “Fuck!”

The shattered edge of the subway window sliced deep into my upper arm as I crashed through it. It felt less like being cut and more like being torn open. White-hot pain exploded across my skin before warmth immediately flooded down my sleeve.

Blood.

A lot of blood.

Glass scraped against my skin as I fell, tiny shards embedding into my hands and neck before I slammed onto the subway tracks hard enough to nearly black out.

The impact knocked the air from my lungs. Pain shot through my shoulder and ribs as I rolled across filthy concrete slick with grime, blood, and years of subway dust. My injured arm screamed in protest the second it hit the ground, fresh agony tearing through me hard enough to blur my vision white for a second.

Behind me, the undead shrieked inside the subway car. The sound echoed through the tunnel like starving animals fighting over meat. Bodies slammed against the train walls while snarling groans rose louder the longer I stayed down there.

Move.