"I better stay in these woods," Regina whispered.
She threw the bike aside and fled into the thick trees. It would do her no good out here.
The horrific moans of zombies still at her back made her skin break out in goosebumps.
She suppressed a shiver as she ran for her life. Sharp leaves cut into her skin as she ran. She gritted her teeth, so as not to scream in pain and frustration.
Regina didn't dare turn back to see how close the ghouls were. She would surely trip and be eaten. She put one leg after the other and listened to her ragged, uneven breathing.
The cold air was unforgiving on her lungs. They ached with exhaustion. She was beginning to feel sick with the effort.
A sudden tightness constricted around Regina's left leg.
She was yanked up and left dangling in the air from a tree. She swung back and forth like a pendulum.
Her bloody skillet dropped from her hand and bounced on the damp ground and into a pile of leaves, far out of reach.
Blood rushed to her head and her hair obscured her vision. She could see nothing but a small swath of ground beneath her.
But she could hear the tortured cries of the zombies grow ever nearer.
"Help!" She flailed her arms down, up, around. It was futile. Her fingers only met empty, apathetic air.
She was now a dangling piece of zombie food.
"She's not a zombie!" An excited, male voice.
"She brought a ton of the buggers with her, though." A second voice. British accent, also a man.
"Please don't hurt me!"
These two men, whoever they were, had complete control of her.
"You're safe, baby doll," the British man said. "We're just gonna take proper care of these zombies, real quick ."
The men walked away, leaving Regina alone. She whimpered at being abandoned and helpless. The blood to her head was becoming unbearable.
Gunshots. A crescendo of moans and groans. More gunshots.
Footsteps slowly walking back.
Hands were now on Regina's legs and ankles, and she cried with relief. The rope was untied and she landed on her shoulder with a heavy thud. She lurched up and stepped away from the two men. She could barely see them in the shadows.
"Hold on," the American one said. "You're safe."
"How am I supposed to know that?" Regina asked . "I was just caught up in your little trap!"
The two men were now coming into focus. The American was probably in his thirties and seemed nice enough - at least on the outside. But the British guy had a strange gleam in his eyes she just didn't trust. He was in his forties, and portly, with a dark shadow of a beard. He had eyes that seemed to see right through her. They looked at her expectantly, waiting to see what she would do next.
Regina weighed her options - fight, flight, or trust.
And, never had her life been more on the line than it was right now.
What should Regina do?
Vote in the comments section to help Regina survive the next moments of her endangered life. The action continues on Monday!