Zombies! I don't care much for this, but I had to keep it to two pages, single spaced.
Problem Solved
“Do something, Ray!” screamed a blonde as her boyfriend struggled to close and lock the rest stop’s door. The scent of fast-acting decay and grey arms, mottled with open sores, were clawing their way through the small crack between door and frame. Insistent growls and snarls issued from the attackers’ throats while crooked fingers clawed at the door’s window, scraping brown-red streaks across the glass.
“I am doing something!” snarled Ray as he braced his shoulder against the door, trying to jam it close, “What‘re you doing, Beth?”
Finally, in a last spurt of anger and adrenaline, he slammed his shoulder forcefully against the door. Bones cracked and marrow split through flesh under the pressure, showering his designer clothes in a spray of blood as the arms withdrew. After rushing to click all the locks into place, he jumped back, listening to the howls of anger on the otheside
“Block the door!” wailed Beth, somewhere behind him. Ray almost wanted to bet she was taking sanctuary in the bathroom. That’s where she always fled in times of stress.
Despite his annoyance, Ray conceded to the good idea and jammed a bench beneath the door’s handle. After glancing at the masses who were trying to claw, with fingernails and bloodied stumps, through the door, Ray decided to drag a few more benches against the entryway. Better safe than sorry.
“What are we gonna do?” A whimper sifted from Beth.s throat. Softly, her six-hundred dollar stilletos clicked from the bathroom’s tiles into the rest stop’s carpeted foyer. He turned to her, after studying the strength of his handiwork against the rattling door.
Beth was quivering with her knees locked together and arms wrapped about her frail body. Mascara was streaking down her cheeks in grey streams as she looked miserably at Ray.
He nervously ran a hand through gelled hair, before remembering his fingers were coated in blood. Hissing a curse, he tore his hand from his tresses and irately rubbed the mess off on his factory-torn blue jeans,
“I don’t know.” answered Ray, as his eyes darted around the rest stop. He almost bit out another curse; the computer they had wanted to use to access the news had been long gone, probably stolen by some hoodlum.
“We shouldn’t have gone to see your parents!” blurted Beth in a wail. Her lips trembled as her body flopped onto one of the few benches left. She hugged herself more tightly as she leaned forward, her blonde hair curtaining her features. For a moment, Ray thought she was going to be spew her vegan lunch all over the carpet, “We could be safe and sound in San Francisco, instead of here, in the middle of ******** nowhere!”
Of course ,it would turn back on him, it always did. Ray gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, “Yeah, because Iowa is a known habitat for zombies.”
She threw him a glare through her matted hair as she bit out, “You always said it was.”
“You heard the radio!” Ray ignored her retort and pointed toward the still shuddering door, where bleeding messes of grey flesh and bones were trying to scrabble inside. They groaned and growled, slammed their hands - or stumps - against the glass while their snacks teasingly stood in sight. Trying to emphasize that this problem wasn‘t his fault, Ray went on, “This is some sort of toxic s**t in the water! I-I don‘t know, some result of that oil spill or some terrorist s**t!”
“We still would’ve been safer at home!” Beth insisted as she got to her feet. In her eyes, everywhere else - especially Nowhere, Iowa - was hell compared to her heavenly home town in Cali. Ray was beginning to wish he hadn’t coaxed her into meeting his parents, now.
“Right, I forgot a tightly packed city is the best place to be in a zombie outbreak. God, Beth, stop acting like sucha dumbass!”
Tears brimmed in her eyes and Ray paused, his temper instantly cooled. At first, he looked away, trying not to fall prey to her puppy dog eyes or wobbling pout. He hated it when she used that look on him. It was so pathetic, he had to give in to whatever they were arguing about. He tried to concentrate on other things - any other sounds or a poster, anything - but the musty rest stop offered little to keep his attention. Ray couldn’t just ignore his girlfriend and slowly his gaze returned to her. Grudgingly, he muttered, “Sorry, didn‘t mean it.”
“N-n-no, s’not th-that.” stuttered Beth as more tears flooded down her cheeks, further streaking her pretty cosmetic picture. Ray watched her carefully, stomach lurching as he noticed her arms weren’t wrapped across her chest, but a little lower, more around that flat tummy she heralded. He vaguely remembered her booking a doctor’s appointment before they left for Iowa and how she refused even a sip of beer from his dad.
“Wait, are you-” Alarms suddenly went off in Ray’s head as his instincts goaded his eyes to look at the door. It had been quiet for far too long, he realized. The zombies, as one, rushed the door - as well as they could - using one of their own as a battering ram. Ray had started to back away, “s**t, they‘re smart.”
“Wha-” The benches clattered across the floor, interrupting Beth, as the glass in the doors shattered. Beth shrieked as zombies started to surge through the broken glass, ignoring the shards that broke off in their bodies and the crunch of their makeshift battering ram beneath their feet as they advanced on their prey. The scent of decaying flesh and sickness filled the small stop.
Beth streaked into the women‘s bathroom and Ray raced after her. He wanted to curse at her for being so stupid, for picking a dead-end in a game of survival, but there wasn’t anywhere else to go. This would only prolong their fate.
In the bathroom, Ray’s eyes scanned the area, finding no sign of Beth cowering in a corner or hiding in a stall. Instead, he caught sight of her wiggling out a window that was barely low enough for her to reach. Ray raced to the only source of escape as zombies lurched in; their bellows and howls ricocheted around the bathroom, shaking Ray to his bones. After shoving Beth the rest of the way through, he hefted himself up, and struggled to get through the tiny window. Ray struggled harder, the window’s metal frame bit into his hips. He could feel fingers starting to enclose on his ankles just as Beth found some humanity - or realized he was the one with the car keys - and snatched his wrists, pulling him through.
Both Beth and Ray were up in seconds, scrambling to their feet as they rushed around the small building to the parking lot where their car waited. Ray raced ahead as Beth stumbled after him in her heels. He fumbled in his pocket for the keys as zombies started to spew out the front of the rest stop.
Shakily, Ray withdrew the keys, pressed the unlock button once, and climbed into his car as it clicked open. He slammed his door shut just as Beth hobbled to the passenger side, trying to fling her door open. When it wouldn’t budge, she slammed her palm against the window. Ray looked up, watching the tears pour down Beth’s cheeks as her muffled screams were lost to his ears. Memories, mostly fights, flickered in his mind and he glanced into the rearview mirror. The mass of slobbering zombies was closing in.
Without another thought, Ray revved the engine and pealed out of the parking space.
Once the shrieks and howls died away, Ray glanced in his rearview mirror before slumping in his seat, “Well, that takes care of that problem.”
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