Johnny leant against a tree trunk, toying with his brown tie. In between fiddling with his tie, one could glimpse the flashing of a silver blade. It wasn’t very ideal in his trade, but he did like it. Johnny could already hear the slow dead beat shuffling of feet, but he wasn’t really scared. He could hear one approaching, accompanied by the putrid stench he had become accustomed to. Johnny flipped the blade and saw the reflection of the approaching foe; he looked like an intelligent one this, although his mouth did have the typical gape.
“Can I help you?” Johnny half smiled.
“The scourge is only just beginning, you know,” He grunted as he shuffled aimlessly.
“Can I stop you?” Johnny mused, to himself. The zombie just groaned and made a drunk-like swipe at Johnny’s head. Johnny turned around to get a full faced view of the zombie. He had a huge crater in the side of his head, with a few worms poking in and out of it. Johnny surveyed his quarry with trained eyes and gave a hysterical laugh.
“How fast can you run, scum?” He barked harshly. The zombie too became quite aggressive and made a spectacular tackling dive at Johnny’s feet. Johnny side-stepped with dexterity and still tumbled to the ground. The zombie attacked again, baring his half-rotten teeth; his foul breath permeating the cool night air. Johnny, however, was too fast for him. He rolled onto his side and the zombie found himself staring down the barrel of a golden pistol.
“Eat dust,” Johnny growled.
The sound of the shot resounded in the quiet wood on the outskirts of a sleepy town. The zombie’s head was blasted off, and a lingering smell off gunpowder and rot filled the air. The zombie’s hands twitched, as the very last traces of life left his body. Johnny pulled out his cigarette lighter and set the zombie ablaze. He moved fast, for he had one mission: find Bella, dead or alive.