BITE ME ➼ C. G. 〖 #wattys2016 〗

Chapter 4

Btw, these are some pictures of Marshal. It took me a while to find the right guy :)

SOTC: Summer by Calvin Harris
• You act so innocent now, but you lied so soon •

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Marshal flicked off the news as I came in, but I had already heard too much.

"So." I crossed my arms, scanning my head for all of the zombie novels I had ever read. "When are we going to leave?"

He shook his head. "Mom said we have to stay." I watched his fingers fiddle with the thick, old remote.

I laughed. "That's bullshit."

"LANGUAGE!" Marshal screeched before holding out his hand. "That's another quarter to the swear jar!"

"Fuck," I said as I fished out a crinkled dollar bill, squishing it into the yellowed mason jar on the fireplace mantle. "Dick, hell."

He gave me an accusing look.

"What? I've got no quarters." A smile played across my face.

He shook his head and threw me the remote. "Gosh, Keira, I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

•••

I woke up to Carl shaking me really hard, and my eyes could barely stay steady in their sockets. The sound of whimpering and pitiful crap from the Gabriel dude sounded muffled through the walls. He was crying, and I came to think that Rick finally found out what you'll burn for this meant.

"Kee, you've done your sleeping, now wake up!"

I gave him a groggy glare, then sat up and blinked in the blinding sunlight.

There was talking and the sound of the huge doors opening and thudding shut.

"What's happening exactly?" I asked Carl, who had now placed his hat on his head. He dropped a gun into its holster and headed for the door.

"Bob. He's in trouble."

I quickly got my machete, squeezing the thick leather grip as I jogged outside, ignoring Gabriel, who was flopped out on the podium, moaning.
Bob, the dark-skinned man who was with Sasha, lay mangled on the grass. The lower part of his leg was missing, and the end wasn't patched up at all. His bone stuck out, jagged at the end where it had been hacked off. He was groaning with pain, shivering and convulsing as the blood poured out of his open wound and into the grass.
Sasha stood, mortified, over what was left of him.

I spotted a few walkers coming out of the leafy landscape, and a few people took the arms and legs of Bob, carrying him inside the church. I slashed some walkers open before pounding up the stairs, whipping out my pistol.

There were gunshots from the trees. And I saw a face. It was Gareth.

Memories of Terminus flooded back. Rusty whimpering through his muzzle as he was pulled farther down the conveyer belt. His pleading eyes going dead, right in front of me.

Rick opened fire, letting all his bullets loose into the thick woods.

I picked off a few of the most open Terminants, but Gareth kept firing hard at us.