The other Dixon- The walking dead fanfic

III

I took a shaky breath as I stood in front of my house. Front door wide open and car gone.

I immediately went to the kitchen, taking a large knife from the draw, holding it tightly in my hand just in case,
"David?" I called out. I had locked the door behind me so I wasn't exactly bothered about any cranks getting in. I glanced at the radio on the kitchen counter, an announcement being repeated over and over again:
"Do not panic. Please make your way to Atlanta refugee centre immediately. Avoid contact with infected at all costs. Do not panic. Please make your way to-" I turned it off, unplugging it from the wall, enjoying the silence for once.

"David?" I called out again, walking up to the top floor.

Nothing.

He must've already bolted, made his way to Atlanta or something, I don't know. I didn't exactly like David, but I just wanted to see someone I knew. I pushed open my room, letting out a small breath of relief to see it empty. I set the knife down on the bed, pulling a large black box from under my bed, taking my keys from my jacket pocket, pushing a small silver one into the lock, clicking it open.

My real dad was a prick. There's no sugar coating it. My back was walking proof too. But he had set me up for this completely. I mean if he told me that he knew this was going to happen, I would fully believe it.

I started by taking the weapon belt, securing it tightly to my waist. I pulled out the Glock 19, fastening it into my holster, putting some ammo in my pocket for easy access but most of it in my bag, which now lay open on my bed. I slid a small machete into another holster, along with a knife which lay behind me.

I stared at the cabinets, filling my bag with water and tinned food, packing it as tightly as possible.

Most people would be heading straight to Atlanta right now, which is exactly why I wasn't.

The more people I'm around, the more likely I am to be infected.

I knew I had to get to Daryl's. I wanted that bow, now more than ever but also, if anyone knows how to survive a zombie apocalypse, it's my brother. He was basically made for it. Although I'm not quite sure if Merle would let me tag along.... I'll have to figure that out.

I pulled up a couple of the floorboards in the downstairs bathroom, I figured they were loose a couple years ago and had been stashing things in since. I lay the floor boards on the ground, filling the empty space with more water, food and even a couple knives, just in case I ever return here.

I grabbed a family photo of everyone, me, my mum and dad and two brothers before walking out the door again, going as carefully as possible. I locked it behind me just to be safe and placed my skateboard on the floor, pushing away down the street, just trying to move as quickly as possible.

The streets seemed eerily quiet, it had been almost 9 hours since the initial announcement so I suppose most people were either dead, dying or making their way to death (aka Atlanta). Not me though, I had to get to Georgia before Daryl moved anywhere, before I loose him even before I find him.

--- 

As I found myself standing at the foot of a bridge, staring at the cranks, who were already making their way towards me, it hit me suddenly, I had absolutely no idea how to kill these things.

Sure Daryl and Merle had taught me all sorts of things. Tracking, hunting, cooking your hunt. But killing the undead? Yeah that one isn't on the list.

I began backing away from one as it got closer, taking my pistol from my holster. I aimed it at the chest, that had to be my best shot at killing it. I pulled the trigger twice, knocking the crank to the floor, blood spilling from its chest. I took a  breath of relief, turning around to check there was nothing behind me as I placed my pistol back in my holster.

I knew I had to get moving, there was no doubt the other cranks heard those shots and were inevitably  making their way here. As I turned around I felt myself gasp as a crank forced itself towards me, pushing me down to the floor.

I struggled to grab my knife as I held it as far away from me as possible. Furrowing my brows as I realised it was the same crank I had just shot. I managed to pull the knife from my holster, watching in agony as it clattered to the ground. I brought my second hand up to the cranks body, using every ounce of energy I had left to push it away, causing it to fumble back a step or two, giving me just enough time to grab my knife and pull myself back to my feet.

I stood eye to eye with the crank, holding my knife out in front of me, plunging it into its chest at any chance I got, unfortunately not doing anything. It was clear the heart wasn't doing this crank any favours. I wracked my brain, thinking of any other options I had. Perhaps it was stemming from the brain? That my only other option as of now because a small group of the cranks were beginning to approach me from behind. I grabbed the cranks shoulder, pushing the knife into its head, twisting the blade sharply as I did.

Blood splattered onto my face as it collapsed onto the floor. I spat onto the floor, wiping my cheek with my sleeve, just to rid the blood.
"It's the head.." I muttered to myself, wiping the blade on the now dead crank before placing it back in my holster before turning on my heels to face the group. Sure, I could probably kill them but it was risky, besides I had far to go, if I wanted to survive I needed all the energy I could get, killing cranks just because I can was not worth it, not right now at least.

I grabbed my skateboard from the floor, turning away from the pack of cranks, skating away from them, across to the other side of the bridge. I had a plan, I knew exactly where to go and what to do. I didn't however have a backup plan, so if this failed, I was as good as dead.

Word count: 1,100
Total word count: 2,524