Forty-five

Twack.

Twack.

Twack.

"Grrr.."

The snarls, growls, and the quiet whistling of the arrow filled the air.

Jannah continued aiming for the zombies' head, letting the arrow fly and hit its target— the forehead.

She missed some of the target and hit their shoulders instead, some received the arrows to their faces, and some on their hands or arms.

They were persistently trying to reach her and it disrupt her supposedly skillful aiming.

Twack.

She released another shaft, and thankfully, it hit a zombie this time.

She reached for another arrow from her quiver, but her hand froze mid-air when she heard a gasp. It was sharp and shaky, as if the person who let it out was startled and shocked.

"What the hell happened here?"

Jannah didn't have to turn around to find out who asked the question, she continued to take the arrow from her hip, slipped it through the bow and let the nock touch the bowstring.