Excerpt: In the Wake of the Dead

He was cut off by a scream that made his blood run cold. Instantly the fog in his head lifted; he kicked into action, sprinting down the hallway in time to catch a glimpse of a struggle. Neil, in the recliner, was holding someone above him. The large picture window behind them was shattered. It took him a moment to identify the person through the gore caked on his face: it was the fat bastard, his neighbor. What was his name? Bob…no, Rob. No, that wasn’t it. But names were unimportant now. He could see ‘Rob’s teeth gnashing together inches from Neil’s face, and knew the situation instantly.
Not dwelling on petty things like ‘common sense’ or ‘self restraint’, Adrian acted on pure instinct, grabbing the nearest object he could. His hand came to rest on the large lamp to his left. It was solid iron, about five feet long with a thick, heavy flat base. He moved forward before either of the two could notice him, swinging the base up as hard as he could, and as it struck home his arms vibrated with the force of the impact, so harsh he nearly dropped the lamp all together. Whatshisname’s head snapped back as he was nearly lifted off his feet, crashing to the ground hard enough to make the room shake.
Instantly Adrian was over him, all thought pushed from his mind by a howling scream in his head. It only registered a moment later that the scream wasn’t in his mind, but emanating from his throat, a primal, feral roar as he lifted the lamp above his head before bringing down like a hammer on the stunned abominations forehead. Red and grey splashed over the carpet and furniture as his- no, it’s- head split open horizontally.
The war cry ceased, and an eerie silence descended on the room. He was vaguely aware of Neil’s frantic hyperventilating behind him, and his own labored breath. The world seemed distant, as though separated from him by a hundred feet of concrete. Slowly, he came back to reality, his hands trembling as he pulled the lamp away from the corpse.
To Neil he said, “Did it bite you? Scratch you? Anything?”
Neil said nothing for a few moments, then, “No. Dude…you saved me. He was gonna…man…he was trying to fucking EAT ME. What the fuck. I’m gonna puke, dude, I’m gonna-”
“Shut up. Just…just shut the hell up for a minute.” Adrian couldn’t collect his thoughts. They were scattered, distant, all he could hold onto was one single word: infected. The word the anchorman had used. The reality of the situation hit him all at once and he himself was nearly sick. Adrian shuddered intensely, before lurching forward and throwing open the door. He vomited violently for a minute, rocking on his heels as the horror poured out of him. And just as quickly as it had come on, the episode had passed. He’d just killed someone, he thought.
No, no, that wasn’t right. He’d just killed something. He’d never killed anything before, except for insects and Nazis in Call of Duty. He wiped his mouth, and closed the door again. “I, uh. I need to, uh, call my mom. I’ll be right back.”