Something was shuffling out in the distance. Whatever it was, the pace was slow, haphazard, and growing in number. Clara rolled her eyes at the thought of fighting off barbecued zombies.
Her eyes went over everything in the immediate area, searching for a viable weapon. With nothing suitable, Clara withdrew her backup piece and chambered a round. The pistol was ineffective, but it was better than nothing.
“Horsefeathers!” Clara swore. “Oh, wait… I can fly.”
Disclaimer: This excerpt from The Van Helsing Impetus is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. The image is sourced from Pexels.