<Beckett's POV> <7:47pm>
*Edited*I walk out my house as a little girl waves me goodbye. I wave at the other people before walking to the exit. It's always good to wave your loved ones goodbye before going out, considering this is a time of death.
I slide under the broken mesh fence as I grab my supplies and a bag. Being a young mechanic and a survivor of a literal apocalypse is pretty cool. Maybe that's just me but I feel like I'm living in a comic.
I mean just imagine this: A young boy abandoned getting found by a group of rouges who live in a abandoned junkyard sounds as if I'm just lying to you to get some attention.
I get out the junkyard and I start heading south, down to an abandoned highway used for escaping more "populated" areas. I find the old crash I found a few days ago and I almost skip excitedly to the wreck, taking out my knife and using the handle to chip off any glass in the way.
It's hard finding such a car like this still mostly in tact. Unfortunately I can't be out for long since it's late so I can't look inside the car and scavenge for it's parts.
I climb in the car and I pull myself further inside by grabbing the car seat with one hand and gripping the floor with another. I find some expired food and other unimportant things, seems they were trying to escape the big city too. It's not rare finding totaled cars by these parts, considering that nasty infection really skyrocketed in the city.
I finish searching the front seats and I move to the back, getting hit instantly with a horrible stench. I quickly pull my mask up, which was resting on my neck. I continue to go through backseat, just in case there IS something important.
I heard footsteps and I quickly hid, the steps stopping right in front of the window I was facing. The thing leans down on its knees and it knocks on the window. I can already tell it isn't a zombie—they don't know how to knock. I try to get a closer look without moving but the thing gets back up from its knees.
The husk-human thing walks over to the window I broke, leaning down again onto its knee again. It hesitated, but it throws a granola bar inside, I'm not sure why until I poke it with my knife, and the thing flinches.
"Yo..?"
Okay. That's a human I think. I still can't really tell between husks and humans since husks still have consciousness but no heartbeats or rising lungs, only distinguishable thing about them is the pale white skin.
It's dark out and I can't see it's skin tone. It knocks again and reaches inside, I slowly reach for my hatchet that's strapped to my belt and I get ready to attack until he peeks his head in.
I almost let out a gasp in surprise but I cover my mouth instead (Which was probably rude). He looks at me with a puzzled expression until his eyes widen a bit and touches his ripped face, one side of his cheek torn off.
"You okay there?" He asks, his hand still covering his wound. I nod and I put my hatchet back, his eyes following every movement.He kneels lowers, to get a better look inside the car. "What're you doing out this late kid?" Did this guy just assume my age? I'd cancel him if we weren't in an apocalypse right now. He stares at me, waiting for my answer. I sigh, and I look at him.
"How are you even out here anyways dude?" I ask back, ignoring his question.
"My family crashed this car, I was the only survivor." He winces at his words and he shakes his head. "Not my point though. I needed somewhere to stay, at least.""Where have you even been living?"
"In the woods on the other side of this road."
"Okay Tarzan, I'll bring you back." He snickers at my comment.
"Tarzan?"
"I mean you do kinda look like him."
"How so?"
"Pretty long hair, Caramel skin, Strong facial features." I obverse his face and he just smiles, and looks around the car as I continue to list off the similarities to him and basically a caveman.He grabs a handful of his hair and rakes his fingers through, rubbing the ends as he inspects his own hair, He looks back at me, his head tilted to the side.
"My hair is only shoulder length? Pretty sure Tarzan had hair down to his stomach or something."
"I don't care about the facts. Can you pull me out by the way? I'm kinda stuck."
"Uh alright then?" He yanks my arm and it pops off. He screams and I cackle loudly. I have a prosthetic arm—how? Well, getting bit by a zombie isn't always fatal, if your bitten in a place where you can amputate.Zombie bites take a while to spread to your brain so you can save yourself from becoming a zombie if you were bitten in the arm or leg, Too bad the only cure is chopping the thing off.
"You scream like a little girl." I say, as I rest my head on my hand. "Not funny." He grumbles, pulling my other arm and sliding me out the car onto the grass.
"Can I have my arm back?" I say, pointing at my mechanical arm. He hands it back and I click it into some rods, strapping my arm back on.
He just stares, looking weirded out but a little sympathetic about my arm. He sits down next to me, leaning against the car.
"We gonna go back or?"
"Oh yeah I forgot, Follow me."I get up and I hold out my hand to him, I guess he doesn't trust me enough that I won't pop my own arm off again so he gets up himself. I dust off my clothes and I start walk back down the long, long highway, with company I wasn't really expecting.
YOU ARE READING
Junkyard Bastion
Ficción GeneralBeckett is a young man who was abandoned by his parents on the side of the road as an infant, a group called the "Scavengers" took him in. Not long after a mysterious virus spreads, and the reason being unknown. The virus causes almost zombie-like e...