A Walk Among The Dead

Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you guys for being patient with me and being so understanding. Enjoy!

The sound of plastic bottles exploding boomed through the air as my bullets collided with the empty water bottles that Brendon had set up on the ground. There were no fence posts or anything like that around, so we just stood the bottles up on the dewy grass.

"There you go, you're a natural!" Brendon said, retrieving the holy plastic bottles from the distant ground. I grinned sheepishly at his compliment.

"You probably say that to all the ladies you give zombie shooting lessons to." I joked. He laughed and and handed me one of the bottles I'd just shot. I looked at him, confused.

"Keep it. It's a souvenir to remember this by." He smiled. I smiled back and walked over to my backpack to store the bottle. Brendon followed me closely and waited patiently.

"You wanna take a break?" He asked.

"Yeah." I said. Brendon slowly lowered himself to the ground and loosely hugged his knees to his chest. I followed in pursuit and sat criss-cross beside him.

"So," Brendon started. "What's up with you and Brady?"

"You noticed the tension, huh?" I asked bluntly. Brendon shrugged.

"You haven't even looked at each other since you got here." Brendon said.

"Yeah, well, I told him not to talk to me until he was done being a little bitch so," I shrugged nonchalantly. Brendon let out a soft chuckle.

"Don't be like that," he said, his chuckle fading quickly. I turned and looked at him, confused.

"Like what?" I asked.

"In this time and world you never know when you might lose the people you love. Don't let some silly fight be the last exchange of words you might have with each other."

I'd never thought about it that way. Brendon was right. There are so many horrible things that could happen to everyone now, and I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to Brady or Dad.

"I probably need to get my head out of my ass then." I whispered. Brendon shrugged again.

"It might not be a bad idea."

A few silent minutes passed while the two of us just sat and watched the clouds pass. The peace was broken as Brendon suddenly jerked himself to the ground, reaching quickly for his gun that sat in his waistband. The loud roar of a truck engine echoed through the air. I gripped the gun I'd already been holding tightly.

"Get down." Brendon whispered harshly, taking his own advice and laying face down on the cool ground. I did as he said out of complete petrifying fear and trembled as the sound of the truck drew closer.

"What is it?" I whispered. Brendon gave me a harsh look, telling me to keep quiet. Tires screeched against the pavement that wasn't too far from us, informing us that the truck had came to a sudden halt. I began to shake violently, flashing back to the gun shop incident. Ever since that grizzly man held a gun to my head, I've had an extreme fear of being attacked and held at gun point. Brendon grabbed my arm sympathetically, noticing my shaking body. He looked at me and mouthed "It'll be ok. Just try to stay calm." I nodded and took a deep breath attempting to relax. That plan failed when I heard the truck doors open.

"Is this where you saw em'?" A male voiced bellowed through the air. It sounded very similar to grizzly man.

"Yeah," a female voice rang. She sounded extremely southern and wicked. "They were shootin' bottles in the field."