Without speaking, I started walking forward. I had no idea if I was walking toward my death, but if I turned back to the Prophet, then I would be a much different kind of death.
I stopped when I reached the first row of zombies. Their swaying movement stopped as the one in front of me stared at me. "Move," I grunted. I had no idea if it understood English or not, but I would not back down.
There must have been something on my face or the fact that I had four massive males behind me who wouldn't hesitate to rip them apart because they parted like the Red Sea in front of me. It took a minute for my legs to start working again.
For a brief moment, I pictured walking through until the middle, only for them to fall upon me and rip me apart. Taking in a deep breath, my head held high; I stepped past the first row, my footsteps slow and even.
