Sunday Scribblings: Storm and A to Z: Zombies

The last letter for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.
                                   and
This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is storm.

Z is for Zombies

     I watched Derry drag the body across the field, his fingers gripped onto the cuff of its pant legs. 

     "Why are you touching it?" I whispered, chocking on my own question.

     "Help me!"

     "We've killed it already. What are you doing?" I pleaded.

     "It's the smell." I watched him pull out the ax from his hip. He tugged at the dead mans arm then laid the weapon across his wrist, copping through the entire bone.

     He throw the severed hand towards me. Without intention, I caught it. I kept the vomit in my mouth.

     "Smear the blood on your clothes. Don't get any on your skin," he ordered.

     I clasped the fingers into my own palm. What was left of this life dripped onto the earth at my feet. 

     "Don't waste it. Spread it onto yourself". He stabbed at the stomach and pulled out enough to cover himself with. "We know that they are not the most clever creatures, right? Yet, I've never seen them mistake one of us for them nor one of them for us. I've been trying to figure out what it is that helps them tell us apart. It's the smell, I know it is." He covered his arms in liquid and string.
     "I..I don't know..."
     "I'm not saying that they are as keen as hounds of blood, but it has to do with the stench, I'm sure of that."  At arms length, he cut of the other side for me.
     I couldn't control my stomach any longer. I hurled my insides out and rubbed old flesh across my clothes. I wasn't dead yet and I didn't want to be one of them, so I would hold my breath while I covered myself in their stench. "I hope this works."
     "You and me both."
     We cut across the field and followed the main road that led into town. The ammunition store wouldn't be far, but the streets would be crawling with them.
     "Are you ready for this?" Derry asked as we entered their world.
     "I don't know."
     A stream of harsh clouds had followed us in. "No. It can't rain now." In all of my hurling discontent, I hadn't considered this.
     "Here's one of them. Roy, move slowly. Make a moaning sound as you move past him."
     I staggered past the dead man. He stared at me, his face empty of its nose. He groaned and carried on past me. My heart rolled out of my shoes.
     "It's working. This is going to be fine. Through the alley way and over to Mill Street."
     "Derry, we need to move faster. Let's get the guns we need and make it back across before the rain." I started to run, until the end of the alley way, and then, again, we became dead  with them.
     We walked side-by-side with them. Pieces of cloth, bone, and body lingered along the street. The store was in sight. We broke through the glass and crawled in. They heard.
     "We need to hurry."
     I had never seen so many guns in my entire life. "What do we get?"
     "Everything. And extra ammo."
     We filled our bags and listened as their swaying steps became closer. With our loot, we rushed to the door. They were there with their hearts hungry. Derry opened the door. We glided past them and the rain fell. I whimpered.
     "Keep moving." Beyond the flesh, I could smell Derry's fear.
     We moved and the storm moved and their eyes moved along with us. We ran and they poured out of each alley. Their arms reaching out in front of them, calling out to us, desperately hoping to make us into one of them.