Snippet from Island of the Zombie King…
It had taken him more than an hour to get to the other safe house and had seen the smoke before the building even came into sight. Ben hoped it was something else, but it wasn’t. He didn’t even turn the engine off before he got out of the car. Looking around in time to see a few of the undead coming for him, he took out his pistol and shot them each in the head. He couldn’t make it to the door. There were too many of them, and the screaming from inside seemed to drive them into a frenzy.
He disappeared to the side of the warehouse. All the small windows were at the top, and thick grey smoke rolled out of them. He made it to the backdoor, having to kill six zombies to get there. He tried the doors, but they wouldn’t budge. He heard screaming from inside. The people were jamming the door. They were pushing against it when the door opened their way.
“Get back!” he shouted. “Step back from the door! You have to get away from the door!” He screamed until he was hoarse. No help came to put out the fire. He couldn’t think clearly. He looked around for something to help. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air along with the screams. He tried to get in, tried to make a makeshift ladder to climb to a window, but it didn’t work. He tried the doors again, but it was too late. The fire had reached them. He could see the smoke coming out from under the door and felt the heat. He stayed there as the fire ate the walls and the screams faded.
He fell to his knees, crying. He was a fireman, yet he could do nothing. A zombie came toward him and for a second, he didn’t care. But in the end, he used his pistol to kill it. He watched the flames eat at the top of the building. Maybe they had gotten out earlier. Maybe they were in one of the cars he had passed. Maybe they were transported to another shelter. Maybe.
He knew he had to get away. The fire was drawing more of the undead. Soon the place would be filled with them. He needed shelter. He needed to find a place to think. Maybe they had gotten away. Maybe . . .