Dying Days by Armand Rosamilia Page A

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    The library, where the group was holed up, was two long blocks away. She figured she had three shots left in the Desert Eagle before she’d need to find ammo and knew how bad her odds were of doing it. Before the day ended, she’d need to find another weapon.
    “And clothes,” she whispered. She glanced down at the blood and dirt caked on her outfit. Her thong undies had been pulled and stretched in the fight with Barry and they rode uncomfortable in her ass crack. Her bra had been damaged, and under her shirt it kept slipping off her chest. She wished she had time to slip out of her undergarments or find new ones, but she wanted to feel safe first before getting naked. Stupid, she knew.
    It was eerily quiet. The major cities had long ago been abandoned by the living and it seemed like the zombies followed their prey into the suburbs and the woods. But the cities still held more than enough of the undead.
    She approached the caravan of vehicles they’d driven into town with the day before. None of them had been touched, which meant no fighting had occurred on the street in front of the library and there were no living scavengers in the immediate area; or maybe the undead were still teeming and no one was stupid enough to chance it.
    Darlene wiped the sweat from her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to adjust her bra. Her thong was definitely digging into her and she’d probably chafe between that and the grime and the sweat. She’d give anything for a decent shower and some shampoo and soap right now.
    Two dead bodies, sans heads, were wrapped together in a grotesque human sculpture on the steps of the library. The sun gleamed off the crimson coating they wore across their ravaged limbs and torsos. Darlene forced herself to look away.
    The front doors to the library had been ruptured, blood and body parts covering the entryway. Darlene hesitated before entering the dark interior. Without a flashlight she would be blind. “Fuck it.” She moved quickly and was glad to see the main area was well-lit by skylights. Unfortunately, it also allowed her to see the chaos and destruction that had ensued.
    Pieces of bodies lay everywhere, the bookshelves and chairs were coated in crimson. No one moved, and not one body she could see was intact. She thanked God for that. She didn’t know if she had the strength right now to fight a horde of undead in this closed space. A spiral staircase ran up on either side of the doors to a second tier, where more death covered the walls and books. She wanted to shout out for survivors but knew how stupid that would be. She doubted there were any.
    She stepped gingerly across the room, trying to keep her breathing even and ignoring shadows on the walls. The last thing she wanted to do was waste bullets on nothing and alert the undead that she was here.
    In the back of the library, down a narrow hall, Darlene came across a ransacked set of vending machines. Candy bars littered the ground and the soda machine had been jarred open. She grabbed three Snickers bars and ate them, then slowly opened the bathroom doors with her Desert Eagle leading the way. They were empty.
    After washing down her food with two diet Cokes, Darlene cleaned her face in the ladies’ room and intentionally didn’t look at her reflection in the cracked mirror. Back in the hallway, she filled her pockets with candy and drank another soda.
    The rear entrance to the library led into a parking lot that was now reduced to a riot of twisted metal cars and body parts. The fencing around the perimeter was intact but the gates had been ripped off and bent at odd angles, and a torched Honda Civic blocked the entrance.
    Before Darlene could think, she ducked back behind the doors. Something moved out there, past the fences and the cars, and she was sure it wasn’t alive.
    Tears came to her eyes again and she decided to not be a hero and not try to figure out this puzzle just yet. She needed rest, real food, and for her hands to