They are dead

Chapter 5

The hard and cold metal felt real, as real as any gun placed on your skin would feel. Unfortunately, there was no real way to tell if there was a bullet in the barrel with the same kind of deduction. Noah dropped his cigarette calmly so that he could raise the hand in the air alongside the other one.

"I don't want any trouble."

"Ha! Seriously? In a country as screwed up as ours? You should now what kind of place you live in. Even before the dead took over!"

Noah knew now what type of person he was dealing with, plainly because of they way that he spoke. He didn't have to even look at him, knowing that South Africa had such a vast amount of dialects, it was easy to pick up that the guy who was now pointing the firearm at his skull was also of Afrikaans descent. However, with a pistol pointing at you, he thought the time for such pleasantries as asking "where are you from?" had vanished a while ago.

"I'm just out here trying to survive," Noah said calmly, knowing that it didn't take much to pull a trigger, especially in a wasteland where life and death depended on one's own moral compass, the law having died with the undead. When there were no sounds coming from the stranger anymore, Noah dared to turn his head towards the man. Caramel skin and bright eyes, sweat dripping down a bald head as he hesitatingly kept on pointing the gun at Noah.

"How do I know you won't kill me?"

"How would I prove I won't?" Noah replied. There could be any reason for someone to kill or not kill someone. There was no reason, except your own instincts to trust someone. Noah felt that it was easy to trust Dieter. He acted innocent, honest and child-like. It was a wonder that Dieter had not fallen prey to the scum of the country. The guy was still not budging, although Noah could see that he was not sure. If he wanted to kill him he would have already.

"This guy giving you problems?" Dieter said, his .416 rifle hanging through an open window, pointed at the man with the pistol now. Its long barrel and wooden, tough look, intimidating. The man now looked up at Dieter, weighing in his options.

"Okay, okay. Cool it," he said, putting his gun back into its place, at the back of his pants. Now he seemed cooperative, but not like someone who was scared but someone who had tested the waters and knew that it was okay. He raised his hands just like Dieter's .416 was still raised.

"It's cool," he said in the same tone of voice but kept his hands up.

"I don't know if we can trust you."

"Yeah, you did start off on a bad foot." Dieter followed, his .416 still raised.

"Ah, come on, oaks! You guys should know how difficult it is to make it out here on your own. I had to make sure."

"And so do we?" Noah said, moving closer, and started frisking the man. It looked uncomfortable and the man didn't hesitate to show it. Noah didn't care and he wasn't going to risk it. He took the gun from behind his belt and he could see James' face crumble as he forced his eyes closed at the thought of losing his gun. Finally, after finding no other weapons on him, he asked for his name.

"James."

"Noah. That's Dieter. And don't think he won't take his eyes off of you."

"Please don't kill me, man."

"We're not going to kill you."

"Can I at least have my gun back?"

"Not a chance, boytjie!"

"Ag, come one, man! I need it."

"So do we."

"I need it to find my brother."

"The hell's your brother doing out here?"

"We were scavenging. Isn't that what you're doing?"

"Country's looking up. The government is helping. No need for scavenging anymore." Noah lied, he wanted to see what James' political views were.

The people who had taken over Johannesburg had thought to change everything from the inside out. Because so many people had died with the outbreak of the disease, many political parties and governing bodies crumbled under the fading economy and infrastructure of the country. There was nothing they could do, and most people who were in leadership positions had either been killed off or had made their own factions. Many different names had popped up with their own set of leaders. Funnily enough, considering SA's history, these factions were hardly based on any preconceived ideas. Rather, they were based on ideas that people or their leaders wanted to implement. Some thought that starting over from the inside out would be a good idea, taking over cities that had been emptied and rebuilding, their reputation following their work. Others just wanted to loot and get rid of everything, living the life of vice that they never had the opportunity for previously. Then there were those who lived on the outskirts of the cities and farms. These people who had knowledge about farming and skills to cultivate land were, strangely enough, respected. Trading crops and animals for all sorts of things, they were probably doing the best, the factions in the cities depending on their produce. Then there were the wanderers like himself and Dieter. They lived their own life, scavenged and lived off the land. Trying to survive and make a living of what's left of the country. It wasn't easy, but it also wasn't as difficult as being homeless. They had found an abandoned house and settled there, close enough to water and land to cultivate, also not too far from suburbs or small towns which they could rummage through and make their own way. Usually, the people who were wanderers didn't want to be part of anything that was going on in the cities or farms. Most of the time, these were people who had lost a lot with the outbreak, and had given up just enough to not want to continue with life as it used to be. Noah was one of those.

"Load of kak, that! I don't believe in that bullshit." James eyes flinched and a comical tint flushed over them. It seemed like he knew what he believed and wasn't about to give up on them for the likes of Noah or his gun.

"Good." Noah replied, placing James' gun behind his back.

"Why won't you give me my weapon back?"

"I will give it back to you if you promise to leave."

"If I leave?"

"That's what he said," Dieter spoke now as he climbed over the incapacitated dead one that he kicked out of the bus.

"I can't leave! I thought I told you that!"

"Your brother? I got that part."

"So give me my damn gun!"

"Listen, how do I know you aren't just waiting for an opportunity to kill us? If we find some goods that you really wanted? Huh? How do I know you won't kill us over something like that? You think we're bloody stupid?" Noah shouted now, leaning forward and getting in his face. James obviously realised what he was saying, and acknowledged that, but his expression didn't change.

"So, what? You're just going to take my gun?"

"It's called survival of the fittest."

"Come one, man. Have a heart. My brother is out there, I just know it and I need to find him." James said after him as he continued walking towards the entrance of the caves. Noah was unswayed. Dieter still stood close by, not following after Noah.

"Chances are you don't have much family left? My brother is all I have left in this fucked up world! You take my gun away and my chances of surviving while finding him are less! You are taking away my chances of finding my brother!" James shouted now, and you could hear the tears from the crack in his voice. Noah halted and froze in his tracks after slowly coming to a standstill, picking up the burning cigarette that he had dropped earlier. He turned around swiftly, walking with a motivated pace towards him and stuck a finger in James' face before squeezing the words through his teeth.

"We find your brother... and then you get the fuck out of my face!"