Chapter Seven
In the morning, the four of us pack up our gear and get ready to start walking. Ryder and Reese both look tired, and I wish I’d forced them to let me take a turn at watching. They’re the only things standing between death and me, and if they’re working at half-full, mistakes might happen.
Reese stops me before we leave, and buckles something through the loops of my jeans. It’s black and looks like a belt, but it has a leather holster right over the hip. He tucks one of the Glock 17’s away, and smiles. “You remember how to shoot, right?”
“Um, yeah,” I say, not nearly as confident as I sound. And I don’t sound all that confident. “I think I’ll stick close to you just to be on the safe side.” I give him a nervous chuckle, and he smiles.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
Ryder makes a rude gagging noise, and I glare at him. He just shakes his head, ignoring my stony glare, and grabs some extra ammunition, tucking it into a bag that he hangs over his shoulder for easy access. When he’s ready to go, he hands all of us a bottle of water each. “Stay hydrated, stay quiet, and stay close.”
With that, we start walking.
It’s early morning, and the sun is already high in the sky. It isn’t too warm yet, but it’s getting there. In a couple of hours it’ll probably reach about seventy degrees, and we’ll be sweating buckets. Do we have enough water to make it all the way there?
The going is slow, and after a few minutes, I realize that Ryder is not open for conversation. He takes point, walking a little bit ahead of us. Tobe is huddled in on herself, walking nervously behind Ryder. Reese and I are lagging behind and making quiet conversation. Despite his fight with Ryder last night, he seems to be in a much better mood.
“So, tell me a little more about yourself.”
I glance at Reese. “What?”
“Tell me anything. What’s your favorite color? Favorite animal, favorite flower, favorite food, etc. If you and I are gonna be traveling together, don’t you think we should know each other better?”
“Um, I guess. My favorite color varies depending on my mood. If I’m really happy about something, it’s orange. If I’m anything else, it’s a darkish shade of green. My favorite animal is a cat, my favorite flower is a daffodil, and my favorite food is probably anything chicken. What about you?”
He grins. “Red, dogs, white roses, and anything from a Chinese buffet. Daffodils are kind of plain, aren’t they? I thought you’d like a prettier flower, like a rose or something.”
“Yeah, daffodils are a little plain, kind of like me. Besides, they have a simplistic beauty.”
“Kind of like you.”
He’s staring at me in such a way that it makes me suddenly nervous, and slightly uncomfortable. Reese is a handsome young man, with his dark brown hair and dark blue eyes, but this is the middle of the zombie apocalypse. Should I really be flirting with someone that might be killed or lost to me at any given moment?
“Um, thanks,” I mumble, trying to hide my red face. I don’t want Reese to get the wrong idea about me, especially since I’ve only known him for about three days. He seems like a nice guy, but knowing his favorite color and animal doesn’t tell me much about him.
Besides, it’s not safe to love someone in this world where every moment is a struggle for survival.
“Sam, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or anything.”
“Its fine,” I say, shrugging it off. “Come on, we should keep up with the others.”
I quicken my pace and pull up next to Tobe and Ryder. He gives me a sidelong glance, and I feel like slapping the smirk off his face. “Getting cozy?” he asks lightly.
I resist the urge to elbow him, and just settle for turning away. We lapse into silence as Reese joins us, looking slightly bewildered and upset. Part of me wants to go over and make him feel better, but a larger part of me wants to push him as far away as possible, so I don’t have to risk hurting when he’s gone.
It’s already too late for that, I think angrily to myself. I’d miss him if he were gone.
When I look up, Reese is watching me. I meet his eyes, and he slowly smiles. “Pay attention lovebirds!”
I glare at Ryder, but he refuses to acknowledge my presence. He just keeps staring ahead, searching for any danger in the area. His rifle is up and pointed at nothing in particular, and I can’t help but notice the serious expression on his face. His arms are tight with tension, and his entire body is rigid, as if he’s waiting for a surprise attack.
“The road is clear for miles,” I say. “You could probably relax a little.”
He doesn’t. “Our enemies could come from anywhere. If you wanna survive for long out here, you’d better start acting like you know how serious this situation is. Death could happen at any moment.”
“Anywhere? Really? You think a zombie could just spring up from the ground, or drop from the sky?”
He glares at me, and doesn’t say anything. He just shifts the rifle in his hands, and starts walking a little faster. Tobe, Reese, and I all match our pace to his, and try to keep up. Right now I don’t think Ryder would mind leaving us behind, and I don’t want to give him the chance.
We walk in silence for about a mile, and I’m just about to complain when Ryder holds up his hand, silencing us. Reese brings up his gun instantly, and I take mine out of its holster on my belt, and look around for the threat. If Ryder senses something, it’s probably best to listen.
For a second, nothing happens, and I start to wonder if maybe Ryder is imaging things. Then I hear it: one guttural moan that sends shivers up my spine, and has me tightening the grip on my gun. I look around all over, trying to decide which direction it came from.
I can’t tell, so I move closer to Ryder. His eyes flick over to me and back up to the road, barely taking notice of my fear. “Is there someplace nearby we can hide?” Reese asks, stepping closer to Tobe, who looks terrified and unsure of what to do.
“No, we’re stuck in the open.”
I look around, noticing that he’s right. We’re on a stretch of bare road. Behind us is an open field of dead wheat that stretches on farther than I can see, and in front of us is a section of woods. The trees are thick, and after another zombie moans, I know that that’s where they’re coming from.
The first zombie comes out of the trees at a slow, unbalanced pace. It doesn’t even leave the line of trees before Ryder shoots, and it falls to the ground. After a pause, half a dozen more zombies leave the line of trees, heading for the first fresh meat they’ve probably seen in weeks.
Tobe and I back away from the trees, trying to get as far from the attacking zombies as possible. The gun suddenly feels heavy in my hand, and I worry about dropping it. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my mouth is paper dry. I can’t hear or see anything but the zombies, and I want to help, but I don’t know what to do.
Tobe screams and I whirl, looking for danger. A zombie’s shuffling out of the wheat field behind us. She’s been infected for a long time; her skin is soft and mushy looking, and there are several bleeding and oozing pustules all over her mostly naked body. She’s almost bald, and one of her eyes is missing.
She opens her mouth wide, dripping thick slime down her chest, and lunges at me. I scream as she knocks us down to the road, and the gun goes flying from my hand. My head cracks against the pavement, and I grit my teeth against the pain while struggling to keep the zombie from sinking her teeth into my throat.
I press my hands against her chest and shove, wincing when one of the pustules bursts, coating my hands in congealed blood and pus. Tobe’s still screaming, but she makes no move to help me. I can’t say I blame her; if it was me, watching a zombie try to chow down on someone, I would probably be too terrified to move as well.
Using one hand to keep the zombie’s teeth from my face, I use my free hand to reach for the gun. My fingertips brush the grip, but I can’t get my hands around it. She lunges forward, coming dangerously cl
ose to the end of my nose, and I finally grab the edge of the gun.
I make sure to close my eyes and mouth to avoid infection, and swing the gun as hard as I can. It connects solidly with her head, and she rolls off my chest and across the pavement. She screeches at me with her ruined vocal cords, and I bring the gun up and pull the trigger.
The sound of the gun going off is practically deafening this close, but it does the job. The bullet exits the back of the brain, blowing out a good portion of the head as well. The zombie collapses against the road and doesn’t move again, giving me time to just lie there on the bloody road and catch my breath.
Tobe is still screaming, and the gunfire has stopped. Footsteps run in our direction, and Reese kneels down on the road beside me. He quickly checks my arms, neck, and face for any signs of bites or scratches. “Sam? Are you alright?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah, I think so.”
Reese takes a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the infected blood from my face and hands. “Hold still. I don’t wanna get any of this in your mouth or eyes.”
I stop squirming, and patiently let him wipe the blood away. When he’s done, I open my eyes and see that Tobe is looking worriedly at me. One arm is wrapped around her stomach, holding herself together, and the other is at her mouth so she can chew on her nails. “Are you alright?” she asks, eyes wide and frightened.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine when we get moving again. Preferably before more of them show up.” Reese helps me to my feet, looking me over one more time for any signs of infection. I step away from him, and look at Ryder. “Let’s go. We still have a ways to walk, right?”
Ryder nods, but doesn’t look up from the rifle he’s checking. “It’ll probably be about another hour before we reach that stupid town. We either start walking now, or risk getting caught in a zombie ambush.”
Without another word, he turns and stars walking down the road, not bothering to see if we follow him. I motion to Tobe, and she walks up alongside me, still holding herself as if she’s afraid she’ll fall apart, and Reese takes his place at the back of our line.
We walk for about a quarter of a mile in total silence, before Tobe finally speaks. When she looks at me, her eyes are filled with tears and her nose is running. She wipes the back of her hand across her face, and sniffles. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”
“What are you apologizing for?” I ask, though I’m sure I already know.
“You were being attacked, and I didn’t do anything to help you. I just stood there screaming, hoping that you’d come out on top so I wouldn’t have to get hurt. I just realized how incredibly selfish that is, for me to hope you survive just so I don’t have to fight.”
“Tobe, it’s alright. You were scared, and unsure of what to do. Not to mention you refused to carry a weapon. It’s not like you could have done much anyways.”
“I could have grabbed your gun, but I didn’t. I just stood there and watched a zombie try and eat your face off. You could have died because I was too scared to move.”
“Tobe, nobody here expects you to be a zombie killing machine, destroying zombies with your bare hands, facing down a horde of them without blinking. You’re still traumatized from your treatment at the hands of the zombie Warriors. It’s only been two days since we found you; give it some time. You’ll come out of your shell and, next time, you won’t be so scared to fight.”
She smiles hesitantly, and I put my hand on her shoulder. She cringes, but doesn’t pull away from me. We lapse back into silence and just focus on our surroundings.