First Steps | A Zombie Apocalypse Story (Completed)

Day 20.3

Chris

"Stand up," Jerry demands, his tone deep. I follow his lead, putting up my gun the same as his. I'm not sure if I agree with the route he's taking, but at the same time, you can never be so sure who's good and who's bad. I stand strong, following his league with false confidence. I know I'd kill anyone if they put me or my family in harm's way. I've mentally prepared for that. But actually doing it is far different from saying you'll do it.

My brain swirls at the complications of what could happen, but with the clearing of my throat, I continue to push forward.

The trio shuffles to their feet, not daring to even breathe in the wrong direction. For all they know, we're gonna take them someplace and kill them. Or rob them. I hope they're good people. Not for my sake, but for theirs. I know what Jerry is capable of, and I don't want to test what I am able to do.

I stay on the tails of the men and their mother, making eye contact with the mother for a mere second before averting my eyes. She looks back at the belongings left behind, her dark brown eyes glassy. We exit the house, but the woman looks again at those belongings. I ignore her imploring eyes. What is in those bags that is so important to her? Is it guns, food, keepsakes, medicine? I start to feel anxious at the thought of the unknown, the mystery leaving me unnerved. We hastily retreat out of the neighborhood, crossing the road toward the church. My feet scramble, almost falling behind with how fast Jerry is walking.

"Shit, I think some of those cannibals are coming our way," one of the twins says, his voice heightening and his body movement frantic. He's unpredictable, it seems.

"Chris, stay on them. I got this," Jerry says, his gun no longer pointing toward our prisoners, but instead at the ground as he arms himself with a nice knife. I keep the gun pointed at them, but the corner of my eye is focusing on Jerry, keeping watch to make sure he doesn't need someone to intervene and help.

I become increasingly nervous watching Jerry take on the walkers, shifting the weight from one leg to another.

"Jerry! There's another one behind you," I yell, getting ready to go and help when I see two more following closely behind. I run over, lugging on the extra weight of my belly and the handgun with me. By the time I'm ready to stab one of the walkers, I find myself out of breath, my throat on fire. One of the twin boys dashes in our direction, ramming into the creature that was probably two-hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and meat, who was coming right for me. The other one, the slightly taller twin runs in the opposite direction.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Jerry aims his gun and continues to rapid-fire at the man's feet, causing him to stop and collapse to the ground, his hands above his head. I hear disgruntled groans, my head whipping back toward the twin who helped me as he struggles to keep the robust creature to the ground. I refocus, aiming the 9mm directly for its fatty head. And with two shots, the walker becomes limp.

The shorter twin groans as he clamps his hands to his ears, likely ringing due to his proximity to the shot.

"Benjamin! Why were you dumb enough to try to run away," the little lady roars, looking at him with sharp, judgemental eyes. I can't help but let a slight grin roll onto my face at the mother berating her man-child of a son. I put a sturdy hand out for the shorter twin, and he accepts the help.

"Sorry about my dumb-ass twin," he says as soon as he's back to his feet, rubbing his temples. "He doesn't know what's best for himself sometimes," he adds, rolling his eyes. I nod but remain silent. I'm just glad he's in this situation with us rather than some scumbags who would've shot him on sight.