Zombies

She backed up slowly, her back pressing against the back of the closet, and a slight groan sounded from behind her. Turning around, her eyes growing larger with fear, she saw a rotting hand reaching toward her. Her eyes followed the hand, back up the arm attached to it, up to the caved in head slowly dripping a sticky, oily, black-ish substance; the viscous substance flowing down, clumping their hair, dripping to the ground in an irregular beat.
She didn’t open her mouth to scream. In that moment, her mind shut, as primal fear took over. She jolted back, avoiding the brush of the monster reaching toward her, but in her haste, she slammed back against the door of the closet, the door bursting open under her weight. She fell backwards out of the closet, falling on her back with an impact that knocked the air out of her lungs. Gasping for air, she struggled to sit up when something grabbed the back of her jacket and the next thing she knew, she was upright again.
The grip on the back of her jacket disappeared, leaving her to try to regain her balance again without the steadying force behind her. A muffled bang sounded from behind her and slightly to her left. She whipped around, meeting the eyes of a young boy who was holding out a pistol in unshaking hands, pointing right at the monster that had been behind her moments before.
“We have to move, now,” a voice says from the area that is now directly behind her. She quickly turns around, shoes squeaking on the floor slightly in her haste. A second man was standing over the fallen zombie, looking down at it as if he was trying to find something to recognize in the mangled bloody mess its head had become. After a moment's pause, his booted foot raised and quickly slammed down on its head. She recognized his action as confirming that it really was dead, and took a step further into the room. As she moved, the boy turned to her, a slight smile gracing his face.
“Good?” he asked, giving her a cursory once over before seemingly deciding that she was alright and turning to his partner, who was now scraping his boot on the ground in an attempt to get the residual gore off. “Did you see that shot? I hit it head center like,” and at this point in his excited rant he paused, gesturing wildly to his head.
“Yes. I saw. We need to leave right now,” The older man curtly noted, a slight smile passing over his face as he turned to his companion. He turned to her, giving her a much more thorough once over than his companion had. Checking for injuries she realized with a start. She quickly moved her hands into her pockets, straightening up as she did so. She looked directly at him, daring him to judge her poorly. He smiled slightly, clearly finding some humor in her actions. She opened her mouth to ask what was so funny, but before she could another shot fired out. The impact hit her in the center of her head. She was dead before she hit the ground.
Her hands fell out of her shallow pockets with the jolt the impact brought. The man knelt down, getting a closer look, before nodding and exiting as quietly as he had come, the boy trailing excitedly behind him.

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