At first I thought they were smiling but then I noticed the purple hue around their eyes and mouth, how stiff and bloated their joints were and how rotten the air began to smell. They must have broken into a clothing bin and ditched whatever they'd died in but there's only so much you can do to cover the stench of a fresh corpse.
Rigor mortis is not very forgiving up close and by the time you realise exactly what you are seeing, you're too late to do anything about it. They might not be able to move particularly fast but they are relentless in their pursuit and hungrier than an army.
I made my fatal mistake when I recognised one of them as being a teacher I had in high school. He was always laughing at something but now that smile he wore was a shallow mockery of his former warmth and kindness. I was frozen, trapped in that lifeless smile and those cold, glazed eyes.
You're supposed to run when you see them. Run and hide until the group passes through but I couldn't bear the thought of him wandering around when he should be at rest. So I took aim and tried to get a headshot, tried to lay him to rest myself.
It only drew more of them downtown and turned a small gathering into a full-fledged herd of the undead. I never stood a chance, nor will anyone unfortunate enough to run into them. In fact the last time there was a herd of this size they cleared half a county flat out.
And to really salt the wound... I missed my damn shot.
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