If We Survive

Chapter 3

I count twenty-one creepers. 

They must have followed me from the camp, which is either a very good thing for my two friends, or a very bad thing. 

Three of them I know, from camp. LJ, who was a counsolor, Julia, who was the same age as me, and James, who was my brother's best friend. I used to have a crush on him. All of them wre in the slow group, with my dad. 

That also is probubly a very bad thing.

My best friends was in that group. 

We had a falling out that fateful day, because I had wanted to be with the quick kids, and he wanted to take it easy. We have know each other for ages and ages, and he is more family to me than my blood has ever been. We had ended up splitting between it- we are both just too stubborn. 

I have enough rounds for all of them, but my aim isn't all that good. I'm trapped. I want to scream with all my might, all that is in me, I want to scream. 

But I don't have time to. 

There is suddenly gunfire all around me, and the creepers drop dead like flies. I yank my own gun out, and take out. two. The others scatter. 

I get those. 

I scan the forst line. "Thanks!" I shout. The gun didn't sound like Stephen's. 

I leap out of the tree, pointing my own gun out. I've seen television- mankind is sometimes the worst enemy.

"Lower your weapon!" A gravaly voice souts. Definitely not Stephen. 

"Show yourself!" I shout. I'm subborn and stupid. The sort of thing that gets you killed in a world like this. 

Out of the woods steps two men- one in his mid-fifties, holding a Mossberg, and a boy a few years older than me with some sort of rifle. I'm clearly a gun expert. 

Both of them are ponted streight at me.

I raise my arms, still holding the 45.

"Drop it," Says the younger one in a low voice. 

I set it on the ground slowly, kicking it away. Like in the movies. 

Exept for this is reality, and there is no gurnetee that these two will let me live. It probubly would be a lot easier if they just blew my chest out right then and there. 

"I'm not here to kill you two." I say. "I'm just a survivor." My voice is the least convincing thing ever. There's something about having a gun pointed to your face that makes me nervous. 

They lower their weapons slowly, keeping eyes with me. "Nither are we. Do you have any supplies?" The older one says. Oh, I get it. Only if I have something to give them, will they let me live. Humanity at it's best.

"Only what I need." I nod to my backpack that fell out during the fight. The two motion me to come along. 

It's the first time I feel hope. Maybe they have a camp, supplies, and lodging to spare. Maybe this won't be all bad. 

Or maybe I'm dellusional. 

I grab my gun and my backpack, running after them. 

There's a cabin. It's big, like the kind that rich people go to when they want to get back to nature. I think it's illigal to have land on park grounds, but I don't honestly think it matter anymore. Like breaking into cars, for instance. 

It's like Chrismas Day.

Inside is warm. I'm lead to a couch, where the boy and the man sit across from me. There isn't trust in their eyes.