"What the fuck was that?" The older gentleman said to one of the younger men in the group.
"I don't know." The younger one replied, "But it sounded like a dying cat."
They drew their weapons and looked around nervously. I watched them from the branches of the tree that is in my yard. I perched up there while they were distracted with other things.
"I heard it too." The girl called out. I've gotten a better look at her, she's easily in her twenties but her face always looks strained like she's constantly trying to figure out the blur in the horizon in front of her.
"Stay close. I can't lose another one of you guys." The eldest gentlemen said to the group. "It's just close enough to downtown to not be fucked with but just far enough away and uphill enough the ghastlies aren't so bad. We could stay here. But we have to figure out what that noise is and where it came from. There are some sick fucks out and if there is someone hiding in these houses we have to figure it out."
Well fuck. I guess I'm the sick fuck he's talking about. I had heard the noise too, which was why I was risking getting caught. I want to be on guard and have a full visible of the situation. They were also missing someone out of their group..... most likely a new shambling idiot. I quickly and quietly got deeper in the tree, holding my breath as I huffed up to get into the thick of the limbs, thankful for how healthy the leaves were. I closed my eyes and steadied my breath, just listening. The group had done a daily cleaning habit and the roads were basically safe. The old man was right, our street is uphill from the thick of the zombies... due to gravity and lack of excellent motor skills I think the shambling idiots don't really put up the gruff to come out this way. I had never thought about that.
"There it goes again." The girl murmured, clutching her shovel tighter. "Where is Sam? Has anyone seen same in the last hour?" The group looked at each other and suddenly they all hustled to the end of the road, towards the grocery store. I followed, jumping house top to house top. (With the help of some rope in the trees and some bridges I've built... just in case I need that type of exit.) I made noise but they were too distracted with their missing friend to notice me. I halted at the last building, a pizza place. I lay my belly down on the hot flat roof and peeked over the small roof lip. The noise was much louder over here and had to be coming from the grocery store. There were also more walkers out on this side of the street, our immediate section of the road was the only thing worth keeping cleaned up on the daily. I had basically left the businesses as is. I cleaned them out, but as far as securing them I didn't bother. The windows were only as boarded up as the owners had attempted before dying or leaving or whatever they ended up doing after the shit hit the fan.
When the group entered the grocery store on the opposite side of the intersection I jumped from the roof with a soft thud. I pulled my machete from it's back holster and shushed a nearby undead who was immobile. The skeletal remains of whoever it was before creaked and kind of moaned at me but had no means to attack. The undead being simply made faces at me and tried to muster a noise. I took my boot to it's face and his head crumbled like a raw egg. The smell hit me as soon as the skull popped open. I pulled down my face mask and continued my way to the grocery store. I slithered around the buildings like one of those cops in those shows do. My fingertips always very gently tracing a line behind me to keep my feet steady, my machete gripped at the ready but passive if they were to come around the corner. My heart was beating in my ears, I could feel the machete waver as I trembled with overactive nerves. I prayed my stomach wouldn't make that annoying gurgle noise it usually does when I'm over-anxious. I peeked around the where the concrete turned into large window, large chunks of it missing from the destruction of society.
"Fuck. Fuck. O, God damn. Mother fucker. What the hell?!" The older gentlemen said between gags and sobs. I couldn't see what he was seeing but I saw enough of the three left I knew what had happened. "Sam, O, Sam. I'm so sorry. He was my baby boy." The old man sobbed, in place, one hand gripping what was left of his soft white hair. The other hand gripped a pistol and it was pointed at something I couldn't see on the ground in front of them. If they don't kill the infected I will have to do something, I thought. I was trying to figure out my plan when the girl sprinted out of the building and puked openly on the sidewalk. I am going to have to clorox that spot now, thanks bitch. I kept my grumble to myself and held steady. I envisioned myself as the same color of the building I had my back pressed against, willing myself to be invisible. She wiped her face with her hand and looked up at me like she had known I was there all along. I blinked like I had something caught in my eyes. I'm dreaming, I have to be dreaming.
Her eyes wide and dilated, her face sweaty and paler than before. "He was my brother." Was all she said, "He was my brother and I stuck my shovel through his face." I stepped forward and dropped my machete just in time to catch her as she fainted. Her tiny body lay limply against mine, I looked down at her and instantly my eyes welled up with tears. Every time I blinked down in the direction of this stranger, I saw her. The her before... the her before all this mess. The her I was never able to save... to protect. I gulped and gently held her head. The older gentlemen came out and saw me cradling the woman, I'm assuming she is his daughter at this point. He looks at me and raises the pistol to his forehead and before my eyes even adjust to what is going on he pulls the trigger. Blood splatters everywhere and he falls to a heap into the vomit on the sidewalk. It takes me a moment before I realize I'm holding my breath. I didn't even flinch when the explosion happened in his skull, painting the area around him with a red mist. There is still one more, I thought. Still frozen, with this girl in my arms. I can't just leave her on the sidewalk. Her father just announced we're out here. He rang the dinner bell. I can't leave her for the main course. I stood up, propping the girl against the building very gently. I gripped the machete and kept one eye on the girl as I walked to get a better view. The only male left was standing with a bloody shovel in one hand and a pistol in the other hand, facing the other direction. I didn't leave the sidewalk so I could keep a visual on the girl but I could see the full scene. There was a headless crawler limply on top of a much fresher body. The top of the head, top of the jaw and above, of the fresher corpse lay a couple feet from the remains. I had to be careful not to startle this man, he had a gun. I nervously glanced every few seconds in the girls direction. I could already smell the dead coming. We had to go, now. "Suh-suh... Umm... Dude..." I cleared my throat, "Sir?" He slowly turned, his eyes crazed but not by infection. I glanced at him, one hand out in compliance, the other gripping my machete ready to throw it at the pistol bearing hand if necessary, then glanced at the girl slowly coming to on the sidewalk. Her father lay limp behind me.
This is going to bad. Really fucking bad... and here I am, smack dab in the fucking middle of it. I gulped and knew I looked strange to him. I was wearing a ski mask, construction goggles and a high quality mouth mask. I wear fitted boots that come to my knees, thick jeans that fit snuggly and I wear winter skin armor that's tucked into my jeans and a zipped up, thin leather jacket. Full sleeves and fitted leather gloves. My weapons all strapped to me accordingly.
Think: Wigged out scuba diver.
"Dude. We need to get out of here. Pronto. Shits about to get thick and I don't think anyone is able right now. Let's go. Now." He nodded and limply stepped in my direction. I glanced at the girl again, she had pulled her legs up to her chin and was sobbing quietly. There is no way I can get them up to my loft like this. No way. That little house has got to do. We will have to hide out in the attic for a few days. They will anyway. They don't have it together enough to be worth anything.
I got the pistol from the dead gentleman's hand and tucked it in my belt, making sure the safety was on. No more bullets would be expelled today. They never once said anything about my appearance. The man just simply picked the girl up from where she sat and instructed her not to look behind us. The two of us walked, as he carried her, in a hurried pace to the little house. I didn't like the idea of attracting more zombies and being out of my safe-hold. The anxiety was setting in and I fought it. By fighting the urge to abandon them I am breaking rules 1, 7 and 15.
I left them there to come over here and take a minute. I left them over there, they may not let me back in... he may have killed her already. I have no idea. As soon as they were secure I left them there so I could clorox the sidewalk and pile up those three corpses and burn them. I burned them in the middle of the road but I had to get rid of it. Those bodies were too fresh. It's a beacon for way more than we can handle. I had to kill some idiots on the way there, but they aren't fresh. The walkers don't give a shit if one of their own kind stops moving... but if a fresh one falls... it's a dinner bell. I'm taking a moment, taking a bath... I will change clothes before I go back over there. These clothes will be burned. I have to replace them. I have to bring some things over there to help deal with this. I will be hunkered down over there for a few days as we anticipate the new flow of dead from the sound of the bullet entering the older gentleman's head.
fuck
"I don't know." The younger one replied, "But it sounded like a dying cat."
They drew their weapons and looked around nervously. I watched them from the branches of the tree that is in my yard. I perched up there while they were distracted with other things.
"I heard it too." The girl called out. I've gotten a better look at her, she's easily in her twenties but her face always looks strained like she's constantly trying to figure out the blur in the horizon in front of her.
"Stay close. I can't lose another one of you guys." The eldest gentlemen said to the group. "It's just close enough to downtown to not be fucked with but just far enough away and uphill enough the ghastlies aren't so bad. We could stay here. But we have to figure out what that noise is and where it came from. There are some sick fucks out and if there is someone hiding in these houses we have to figure it out."
Well fuck. I guess I'm the sick fuck he's talking about. I had heard the noise too, which was why I was risking getting caught. I want to be on guard and have a full visible of the situation. They were also missing someone out of their group..... most likely a new shambling idiot. I quickly and quietly got deeper in the tree, holding my breath as I huffed up to get into the thick of the limbs, thankful for how healthy the leaves were. I closed my eyes and steadied my breath, just listening. The group had done a daily cleaning habit and the roads were basically safe. The old man was right, our street is uphill from the thick of the zombies... due to gravity and lack of excellent motor skills I think the shambling idiots don't really put up the gruff to come out this way. I had never thought about that.
"There it goes again." The girl murmured, clutching her shovel tighter. "Where is Sam? Has anyone seen same in the last hour?" The group looked at each other and suddenly they all hustled to the end of the road, towards the grocery store. I followed, jumping house top to house top. (With the help of some rope in the trees and some bridges I've built... just in case I need that type of exit.) I made noise but they were too distracted with their missing friend to notice me. I halted at the last building, a pizza place. I lay my belly down on the hot flat roof and peeked over the small roof lip. The noise was much louder over here and had to be coming from the grocery store. There were also more walkers out on this side of the street, our immediate section of the road was the only thing worth keeping cleaned up on the daily. I had basically left the businesses as is. I cleaned them out, but as far as securing them I didn't bother. The windows were only as boarded up as the owners had attempted before dying or leaving or whatever they ended up doing after the shit hit the fan.
When the group entered the grocery store on the opposite side of the intersection I jumped from the roof with a soft thud. I pulled my machete from it's back holster and shushed a nearby undead who was immobile. The skeletal remains of whoever it was before creaked and kind of moaned at me but had no means to attack. The undead being simply made faces at me and tried to muster a noise. I took my boot to it's face and his head crumbled like a raw egg. The smell hit me as soon as the skull popped open. I pulled down my face mask and continued my way to the grocery store. I slithered around the buildings like one of those cops in those shows do. My fingertips always very gently tracing a line behind me to keep my feet steady, my machete gripped at the ready but passive if they were to come around the corner. My heart was beating in my ears, I could feel the machete waver as I trembled with overactive nerves. I prayed my stomach wouldn't make that annoying gurgle noise it usually does when I'm over-anxious. I peeked around the where the concrete turned into large window, large chunks of it missing from the destruction of society.
"Fuck. Fuck. O, God damn. Mother fucker. What the hell?!" The older gentlemen said between gags and sobs. I couldn't see what he was seeing but I saw enough of the three left I knew what had happened. "Sam, O, Sam. I'm so sorry. He was my baby boy." The old man sobbed, in place, one hand gripping what was left of his soft white hair. The other hand gripped a pistol and it was pointed at something I couldn't see on the ground in front of them. If they don't kill the infected I will have to do something, I thought. I was trying to figure out my plan when the girl sprinted out of the building and puked openly on the sidewalk. I am going to have to clorox that spot now, thanks bitch. I kept my grumble to myself and held steady. I envisioned myself as the same color of the building I had my back pressed against, willing myself to be invisible. She wiped her face with her hand and looked up at me like she had known I was there all along. I blinked like I had something caught in my eyes. I'm dreaming, I have to be dreaming.
Her eyes wide and dilated, her face sweaty and paler than before. "He was my brother." Was all she said, "He was my brother and I stuck my shovel through his face." I stepped forward and dropped my machete just in time to catch her as she fainted. Her tiny body lay limply against mine, I looked down at her and instantly my eyes welled up with tears. Every time I blinked down in the direction of this stranger, I saw her. The her before... the her before all this mess. The her I was never able to save... to protect. I gulped and gently held her head. The older gentlemen came out and saw me cradling the woman, I'm assuming she is his daughter at this point. He looks at me and raises the pistol to his forehead and before my eyes even adjust to what is going on he pulls the trigger. Blood splatters everywhere and he falls to a heap into the vomit on the sidewalk. It takes me a moment before I realize I'm holding my breath. I didn't even flinch when the explosion happened in his skull, painting the area around him with a red mist. There is still one more, I thought. Still frozen, with this girl in my arms. I can't just leave her on the sidewalk. Her father just announced we're out here. He rang the dinner bell. I can't leave her for the main course. I stood up, propping the girl against the building very gently. I gripped the machete and kept one eye on the girl as I walked to get a better view. The only male left was standing with a bloody shovel in one hand and a pistol in the other hand, facing the other direction. I didn't leave the sidewalk so I could keep a visual on the girl but I could see the full scene. There was a headless crawler limply on top of a much fresher body. The top of the head, top of the jaw and above, of the fresher corpse lay a couple feet from the remains. I had to be careful not to startle this man, he had a gun. I nervously glanced every few seconds in the girls direction. I could already smell the dead coming. We had to go, now. "Suh-suh... Umm... Dude..." I cleared my throat, "Sir?" He slowly turned, his eyes crazed but not by infection. I glanced at him, one hand out in compliance, the other gripping my machete ready to throw it at the pistol bearing hand if necessary, then glanced at the girl slowly coming to on the sidewalk. Her father lay limp behind me.
This is going to bad. Really fucking bad... and here I am, smack dab in the fucking middle of it. I gulped and knew I looked strange to him. I was wearing a ski mask, construction goggles and a high quality mouth mask. I wear fitted boots that come to my knees, thick jeans that fit snuggly and I wear winter skin armor that's tucked into my jeans and a zipped up, thin leather jacket. Full sleeves and fitted leather gloves. My weapons all strapped to me accordingly.
Think: Wigged out scuba diver.
"Dude. We need to get out of here. Pronto. Shits about to get thick and I don't think anyone is able right now. Let's go. Now." He nodded and limply stepped in my direction. I glanced at the girl again, she had pulled her legs up to her chin and was sobbing quietly. There is no way I can get them up to my loft like this. No way. That little house has got to do. We will have to hide out in the attic for a few days. They will anyway. They don't have it together enough to be worth anything.
I got the pistol from the dead gentleman's hand and tucked it in my belt, making sure the safety was on. No more bullets would be expelled today. They never once said anything about my appearance. The man just simply picked the girl up from where she sat and instructed her not to look behind us. The two of us walked, as he carried her, in a hurried pace to the little house. I didn't like the idea of attracting more zombies and being out of my safe-hold. The anxiety was setting in and I fought it. By fighting the urge to abandon them I am breaking rules 1, 7 and 15.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I left them there to come over here and take a minute. I left them over there, they may not let me back in... he may have killed her already. I have no idea. As soon as they were secure I left them there so I could clorox the sidewalk and pile up those three corpses and burn them. I burned them in the middle of the road but I had to get rid of it. Those bodies were too fresh. It's a beacon for way more than we can handle. I had to kill some idiots on the way there, but they aren't fresh. The walkers don't give a shit if one of their own kind stops moving... but if a fresh one falls... it's a dinner bell. I'm taking a moment, taking a bath... I will change clothes before I go back over there. These clothes will be burned. I have to replace them. I have to bring some things over there to help deal with this. I will be hunkered down over there for a few days as we anticipate the new flow of dead from the sound of the bullet entering the older gentleman's head.
fuck
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