Beads of sweat rolled down my head, dripping on the hot barrel of the shotgun, evaporating almost immediately.
Heavy breathing and the constant pounding of my heart are a constant reminder of my fatigued state.
With the last attack, my ammo is down to just 3. As things seemed bleak and the shadow of night approaches, I notice a strange sight. Two people, seemingly oblivious to the zombie onslaught, arguing about pancakes and waffles.
( *~*)?