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chamber in my M-16.

Chapter Two – Tommy ’s Story
     
    “What is happening?” Tommy questioned out loud when he finally got free of the zombies that had surrounded the snowplow.
    The fall had cracked three of his ribs and shattered his left femur. Even as a vampire, he had nearly succumbed to the pain. They weren’t life-threatening injuries, not in and of themselves. If he could have just lain where he had fallen even for a few moments, he would have healed sufficiently to continue on. With the zombies, he was not going to get that respite.
    He’d crushed four of them as he landed, driving their necks straight into their skulls, killing them instantly. Tommy had cried out as he collided with their outstretched hands and then into the bed of the truck. It was that last part that had broken his leg and sent red, finger-thick tendrils of pain through his brain. The only thing that saved him at that point was that the zombies were so thickly packed together they could not bend down to get at him. Tommy quickly turned over and began to pull himself hand-over-hand until he got to the edge of the truck bed. Even now he could feel the bones beginning to knit together, but he had no delusions that he was not about to suffer and suffer greatly as he put his full weight on a broken leg.
    With his undamaged left leg, he quickly pushed up, grabbed onto the lip of the truck body, and hurled himself over. He did his best to make the zombies absorb the shock of the jump. Still, he thought the possibility of passing out was higher than he could ever remember it being in his long existence. He flung zombies out of his way with impunity, to the point where they looked like they were being repelled instead of forcibly removed. He was not more than ten feet from the vehicle when he felt the wash of heat hit his back from the rocket propelled grenade’s explosion. His shirt was on fire, his skin was burning, and still his leg dominated with its blinding pain.
    When he reached a house on the far side of the street, he was able to pat down the areas that were still aflame. Charred sheets of skin fell from his back and arms. He leaned against the house, tears of pain cascading down his cheeks, and still the zombies came at him. He wanted to keep running to find a safe haven where he could heal, but the zombies were not going to be so obliging. They were already within striking distance when he realized there was a window above his head. He reached up, smashed out the pane, and pulled himself in, screaming in agony as a zombie pulled on his trailing broken leg. He was out before his head hit the cold tiled floor.
    Tommy awoke a few minutes later to the smell of burnt flesh; his stomach turned. He pulled himself completely into the house, and when his ankle caught on the windowsill he grimaced. He turned over onto his back, fresh spikes of pain radiating through his body as his new pink skin came in to contact with the tile.
    “I think I pulled a Mr. T.” He tried to smile. “Should have thought that out a little better.”
    He sat up with a grunt. His leg itched furiously as the bones were knitting together. His body was in hyper-drive working on its multiple injuries. The gnawing hunger was already stirring in his stomach. He needed to replenish the major stores that were being used to get him back to top predator functioning ability.
    Machinegun fire erupted outside. In the lull of bullets being shot, he could hear the frenetic talk of men under duress. Engines began to get louder as they were put under load.
    “They’re leaving!” He used a moth-eaten couch to pull himself up. He knew he needed to follow them if he was to have any hopes of finding his adoptive family. “I’m coming,” he grunted. He meant what he’d said; that was, of course, until he looked outside and saw that he was completely encircled by the enemy.
    “Going to need some weapons.”
    He started with a shuffle as he began to move through the dusty house. The