The End of Days

[2]

They finished up then and the quitness surrounded him once more. He breathed in deep, willing the pain and shame in him to submurge.

"This knife isn't gonna do a damn thing." Cameron said, tossing it onto Liam's parents' master bed as they rummaged through the closet. He'd already figured that much which is why he was searching through his father's collection of guns which he kept packaged up and tucked out of sight.

There lay an AK-47, 2 glock pistols and a Ruger 10/22. He'd only ever pulled them out during his trips to the range with his friends but that had become less and less recently. At least that made for more ammo and primer weapons.    

Cameron busied himself, double ransacking the house for any other tools they could use. Liam cracked away at the safe where his dad locked up all his ammo.

He probably figured he could get away with having them out for the taking as long as they couldnt be shot with. The realization the password was in fact his birthday was more bitter than sweet.

The boys reconvened around the bed some time later with the guns, an old cracked bat which had been used in the occurrence of an intruder, and a Messer antique that had been passed down from Grandpa to his son.

The man was a total swords enthusiast and although most of his collection had been rusted and run down, the Messer was the only one dad had been willing to keep after he'd passed.

"Dude, you have to take it or I will." Cameron stated, smiling for the first time since this had all started probably.

Liam huffed a bit, feeling the weight of the sword between his hands. Grandpa had never had reservations about teaching him the ways of blades. He did remember some of the tips the man had given to him as a child, messing with the old dulled steel that lined his basement walls. Although it was a long time ago and the lessons were pretty foggy now.

"It feels nice." He spoke, admiring its shine. It had been on display and polished nearly every day for the past 11 years. It looked good for its age.

"You look dope." Cameron stared, bordering on envious. He treated his sourness by grabbing at the AK like he was Rambo or something. His eyes settled on Liam's surprisingly sure of himself. "We're gonna kick zombie ass."

Liam focused instead on the weapons, pondering what their next step should be. It was already dark out so they would lock the doors maybe and rest up, head out in the morning.

He couldn't be sure how long the service would last. Jack had tried to give directions the best he could along with any other possible location Liam could go if something were to happen. He did wonder how the guy, his age exactly, had all that information. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

That night he had awful dreams of his father open on a surgical table as his mother operated, fighting tirelessly to save his life only to be met with a lunging body and a contorted mouth looking to sink into her flesh.

He dreamt of the school janitor, friendly and helpful, mopping the pool of blood that dripped from the spewing stream that spilled from his penetrated skull, red blinding his eyes.

Liam gave up sleep after a while, washing himself while he still could and mentally preparing for the rough travel ahead. He had plans, he told himself. Jack was expecting him after all.

It had been just a few weeks and their luck was quickly running dry. It was early enough in the collapse that most stores had been stocked although day by day people emptied them by the truck load.

Gas was easy to come by and even some survivors although given all the movies the boys had seen, they steered clear of any strangers and kept their eyes focused on the said Sanctuary where they could seek shelter and military protection.