Scattered

Siblings thrown into the chaos of A Zombie-ish Apocalypse fight to survive a crazed, gun toting woman, packs of zombie-ish creatures, and a slow, sure starvation.
“The zombies in my video games don’t run this fast!” Dustin panted as we skidded around a corner and scrambled over a low fence.
I didn’t bother to point out, yet again, that they weren’t zombies.
Not exactly, anyway. I glanced over my shoulder to see the three Nevermores still on our trail, their yellow hued skin glistening with sweat; freaky sideways rectangular pupils dilated and easily visible.
Mouths hanging
open, they snarled as a unit, then sped up, their arms and legs pumping
hard. They were gaining on us.