Living Dead- Chicken Wire

  Daddy punched his hands, fingertips first, at the chicken wire. The wire carved finger-flesh in half-moons that fell like fingernail clippings. He made a frustrated bellow. Withdrawing his mangled fingers, he catapulted his face into the chicken wire. His nose, lips, and cheeks flattened. A tidy, geometric grid of blood sprang from his entire face. His tongue snaked from his mouth, encountered wire, and pushed against it. Wire began to slice the tongue down the center.

  Instinctively, Greer shouted, “No!” but Freddy Morgan had never been one to quit what he’d started. His neck thickened as he drove his face more forcefully into the mesh. Ruby blood oozed from every crosshatch. Still he pushed, until the chicken wire wrapped around his face, digging all the way to his skull. Like that, his face was jellied into two dozen individual hexagons of flesh. One piece, comprised of his right upper lip, plopped like dough from a cookie cutter, revealing long yellow teeth and a patch of gray mandible, Other hexagons jiggled, ready to drop. Both halves of Daddy’s tongue, fully forked now, wiggled separately.
...

  There was nothing useful in the bathroom. She made for the wobbling hallway. The second she hit the main room, Sam Hell’s arm punched through the window over the sofa. The chicken wire popped free, and Greer felt pulled nails, cold as ice chips, patter her side. She jagged right, dodging Sam Hell’s hand by inches, You are reaching for a Greer Morgan, said a voice in her head, who has been disconnected or is no longer in service.

- The Living Dead, chapter: No Longer in Service