I haven't written any published ones as of yet, but I can share a peek at one in a project I'll post probably some time next year; I don't do action well so. lol.
Mayme stood frozen. She could feel her lungs burn, she had not realised she had forgotten to breathe. She forced herself to, as slow and controlled as she could manage as she glanced at Percival for some kind of guidance, but he looked just as bewildered. He gave a silent nod backwards as he tried to study the mental maps of the city within his brain for a way around. Mayme did not hesitate to begin backing up the way they came. She kept her weight on her toes, not allowing her heels to click against the road even once. Still, she could not get around the bend before an emaciated face in the crowd turned the pair’s way. Hissing and spitting followed as it bared its sharp teeth and charged. A few, notably the ones who had managed to get fed from their recent home invasion, fled the scene with the remains of the deceased shoved into their dripping gobs. The rest, however, joined the charge towards Percival.
“Shit,” Percival growled as he grabbed the firearm slung over his shoulder and shot into the mob. “Mayme, run!”
His shot managed to kill one, but only by chance. Their movements were jittery and hard to track— not to mention he was simply a bad shot. He had only managed to pull the trigger once before he was forced to discard the slow-to-reload weapon and resort to swinging near wildly with his axe.
Mayme had not run like she was told, but she kept backing up. Her eyes stayed on the scene as this man, her so-called protector, struggled. Sure, the blows he delivered were devastating, plenty of the beasts fell by his hand, but there were too many. He was utterly outnumbered. All she could do was watch when, to her horror, one swing landed his axe square in one of those monster’s chests. It got stuck within the ribs of the beast. She knew she was about to watch him die, but what of the aftermath of that? Surely once they dispatched him she was next. She couldn't outrun them, not even if she managed to kick off her heels. And she only had five bullets left. Even if she escaped this group by some miracle, what about the next? She needed him, no matter how dangerous he was. He could be reasoned with, he was human. Those things? No. They did not speak. They did not reason. Either way she was sure she was going to die. Her throat felt so dry she had almost missed the bile she felt building not so long ago. Her quivering fingers inched their way back to her hidden firearm.
Suddenly, another beast snagged Percival's free arm. It dug its nails in deep. Blood pooled and stained the glove it had pierced. It reached out for his throat with its other hand, but Percival dropped his trapped weapon and grabbed its wrist. In response it tried to snap at him with its gnarled teeth. Percival tried to lean away, a grimace on his face, but he knew it was over. More hands and claw-like nails grabbed at him, and the one he was staring down grew closer. Hot spittle splattered on Percival's cheek as it growled, its chin was drenched with a river of saliva from its gaping, snapping maw. Its warm, hot breath washed over him. He closed his eyes and braced for the worst.
“Get away!” Mayme shrieked.
A gunshot echoed through the streets like thunder and the creature fell limp. The rest yelped and scampered off in a flurry of flailing limbs and fluttering fabrics. Percival slowly opened his eyes. The beast's head was blown off, a red mist still hung in the air. It released its gurgled death rattle from bloody bubbles at the back of its throat. Its lower jaw remained, along with its tongue that lolled to the side. A few of its lower teeth had been forced back, making new homes in its open throat. The rest of it was splattered over Percival and the streets. The cap of its skull quite a distance, a stray murky eye near it, however the rest of it was unrecognisable. Mush. The smell of iron and singed hair permeated the air and assaulted his nostrils.
Percival threw the corpse off him. It fell to the ground with a wet, meaty thud and it began to twitch. He took a moment to catch his breath before he glanced behind him. He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected to see, but whatever wild tale his head tried to spin would not match what he saw.
Mayme.
Only Mayme.
She stood there, an ornate gun in her hands. Her arms shook as she slowly lowered the firearm so it pointed at the ground. Her finger was frozen on the trigger. Her chest heaved and tears began to well in her eyes. She swallowed hard. “I-I I… I-I…” She choked on her own words. She wasn't even sure what she wanted to say, she hadn't expected her shot to be quite so explosive. She was thunderstruck.
