Apocalypsis 01 - Kahayatle

upright, I kicked the gun out of his hand, sending it across the room.   It hit the wall with a loud thud.
    He tried to swing out at me with a sloppy punch, but his knee put him off balance and he lacked all but the most primitive fighting skills, making him an easy take-down.   I gave him a harsh jab to the larynx, collapsing his throat and causing him to reach up to try and help himself breathe.   I took the opportunity to kick him square in the balls as hard as I could.   Practitioners of krav maga know one thing: you do what you need to do to win.   Nothing is tabu and there is no mercy for the enemy.
    He fell down right where he stood, completely immobilized and unable to breathe.   I kicked him hard in the temple to send him into temporary oblivion so he wouldn’t be able to call out to his friends any more than he already had.   I stopped short of killing him because I wasn’t comfortable with it when he hadn’t actually tried to kill me yet.   I was okay with murder in self-defense, but right now, it didn’t feel right to go that far.   I looked up quickly on my way to retrieve my gun to check on the status of the other canners and saw that they were all still sleeping.   For the first time I also noticed that there were empty liquor bottles and beer cans all over the place.   The idiots were sleeping off a drunken night of partying and friend-eating.  
    Good.   Gives me time to get the hell out of here.   I looked down at the guy I’d knocked out, deciding that he might not be immobilized long enough with a ball shot and a kick to the temple.   I ran over to the television and grabbed the cord that was plugged into the wall and two other cords that hooked the DVR to the TV and some other device.   Leaning over, I felt my dad’s ring hit me in the chin.   It made me feel stronger, less a victim.
    I used one set of cords to tie his hands, one for his feet and one for his mouth, which I secured after shoving one of his dirty socks in first.   I nearly gagged at the smell of it, but didn’t doubt for one second that I was doing the right thing.   This guy would have raped me and possibly eaten me if he could have.   The fact that he’d eaten one of his own friends told me he was no longer human.   “A bunch of friggin zombies is what you guys are,” I said to the unconscious scumbag.
    After I tested the knots and decided they were tight enough, I left, grabbing the bike and running it out of there as fast as I could without tripping.   I didn’t bother checking for onlookers or people spying, only worried about getting the hell out of this neighborhood now overrun with cannibals.  
    I kicked the disgusting head out of the way and burst through the front door, sending Buster into fits of barking.   I dropped to my knees, gathering him in my arms, whispering, “Shhhhhh, you idiot!   It’s just me!”
    Peter came over quickly, saying,   “I got the bike to the edge, but I can’t lift it!”
    “Come on,” I said loudly, grabbing his elbow as I jumped up to run to the back of the house.
    “What happened?” he asked, already out of breath from me rushing him out on his bike retrieval mission.
    “The canners are at the cop’s house, and they ate that guy you shot.   We have to get the hell out of here now.”
    “What?!” yelled Peter.
    I swung around and frowned at him, whispering, “Shut up, you idiot!   Do you want them to hear you?”
    Peter clamped his hand over his mouth, shaking his head silently.
    I grabbed the top of the fence and vaulted myself over it, giving hardly any thought to the nearly super-human strength I’d just displayed.   I grabbed the bike that was waiting on the other side and threw it over the fence in the spot I prayed Peter wasn’t standing.   Then I launched myself back over one more time.
    “Holy crap, Bryn.   Are you Wonder Woman now, too?”
    “Adrenaline.   It’s not going to last forever.   Come on, let’s go!”
    I grabbed the bike and ran it into the house, its wheels barely touching the ground.
    I fast-packed our backpacks with Peter working as my assistant.   I shouted out items and he handed them to me, rushing around the room to grab things as fast as he could.   I had both backpacks done in less than three minutes.
    “Try it on,” I said.
    Peter couldn’t even get it on his back himself.   I stood behind him and lifted it up, waiting for him to get the straps over before letting go.   He nearly collapsed under