“Hurry,” I whispered as I again turned to watch their progress. “Hurry up and cut.”
The stench of the smoke and fire and undead made me retch, but at least my friends were making progress, both of them frantically cutting away until a small gate started to appear, a tiny doorway to safety.
“Done!” shouted Max as he scooted through. “Hurry, everyone!”
Which was about as smart as yelling fire in a crowded theater. Or zombie in a crowded holding pen. Either/or. Mostly the or. Because suddenly everyone was pushing forward, screaming as the zombies groaned even louder, their heavily veined hands now held up as they slowly teetered forward.
Max kept cutting from one side, Jackson on the other, both trying to widen the gap as the human side of things tried to escape. Sadly, all they managed t
