{ON HOLD} Where My Loyalties Lie (Vanoss Crew Fanfic)

Chapter 6

I stood outside in the cool night air, watching the city in front of me. All these old buildings could hold anything - or anyone. I was standing on top of the wall, standing guard with Craig and Marcel. Normally, it's fine for the guards to talk during guard duty. But tonight, the night was filled with a dull and awkward silence. It's obvious that the crew has been trying to avoid me.

I sighed. I thought taking guard duty would clear my mind and help take my thoughts off the stress of the situation at hand. Of course, how can the stress of being in a zombie apocalypse and being count upon by a huge group of people be taken away? I guess I'm just too used to the old life. But that's strange, isn't it? It's been three months since the outbreak and you would've thought that I was conditioned to the environment.

Speaking of the environment, I had to take a look at the surrounding areas again. I looked at the clearing in front of me. This area used to be a busy intersection, located in one of the higher class areas in Los Santos. Now it was desolate; full of rusted cars, weeds starting to emerge from cracks in the pavement. The surrounding buildings were awash in the soft white light from our floodlights mounted on swivels, on top of the wall. Any of these ruins could hide anything - or anyone.

Down in the clearing, a zombie shambled into view. It was everything that you would expect of a three month old zombie - rags for clothes, stumbling around like a blind guy that's drunk and their skin, tissue and muscle rotting in the open air. Basically a walking dead body.

Dead bodies. Something that we'll all be at some point; but being a zombie - that is worse than dying. At the beginning of this apocalypse, we made a pact as a family that if one of us were to become a zombie, the other surviving members of the crew were to put the infected one down. A cockroach skittered over my steel-toe Timberland work boots, causing me to glance down for a split second. I heard a scampering sound as I looked down at my boots. My head shot up again but as I looked, I only saw the zombie shuffling across the clearing.

Craig came over to me. "Higher amounts of zombie activity than usual," he started out, "don't ya think, Vanoss?"

I nodded. Usually we have a couple out each night, but that's over the span of eight to ten hours. It got dark around 9:00 o'clock. It was only 11:00 o'clock, and we'd already seen twelve zombies walking around. That got me worried. Usually when there were more zombies around, that could mean two things usually. One is that there are raiders or something like that driving the zombies towards us. That meant that those guys would be heading our way.

It could also mean that there was a zombie horde nearby.

A horde was bad news for us. Hordes were made of hundreds of zombies and they cut a path through anything in their way.

Craig and I both stared out into the night, deep in thought. How am I going to protect them? I thought. So much rested on my shoulders. Protecting my family. Making sure that they're comfortable.

Another shuffling sound cut through the still night air. I thought nothing of it until a loud bang filled the air. Our heads shot up. Zombies may be able to walk around and look like drunken assholes, but they sure as hell couldn't climb.

I looked at the zombie to just make sure that it hadn't bumped into one of the cars and lo' and behold, it wasn't even near one. Another bang resonated from the east side of the front wall. I nodded at Craig and pointed in that direction. He swiftly moved towards the commotion with me right behind him.

We reached the spot just as a gloved hand reached over the railing. Who was it? Raiders? Craig roughly pulled the person over the railing. With a cry of surprise, the intruder fell to the ground in a heap.