Killer ↠ 10K | Z Nation

2. Baseball

"Where have you been?" I ask while trying to wash blood out of my shirt. He just shrugs in response. Typical.

"Find any survivors?" Again, a shrug. He could find Oprah alive and it'd still be a shrug.

"What's the kill count, killer?"

"Over a thousand."

I roll my eyes. "I know. You passed one thousand a few weeks ago."

Shrug.

Well, our chitchat is over. "I'm heading out to look for another vehicle. I'll be back soon," I tell him, giving up on my shirt and putting on my semi-clean spare.

"Wait, I'll go with you." This time, I shrug.

We walk a few miles down from our hideout, searching for some mode of transportation that doesn't look like it's been through the Apocalypse. Sadly, my mother's Toyota died a few months into this hell. She really should've fixed the Serpentine belt.

A car pulls up alongside us; an old man leaning out the driver's side window. "Hey...hey there! You're the youngster that saved my ass, aren't you?" So he did meet someone.

"Yeah, that's what he does, but we really have to go," I interject, pulling on Killer's bicep. He shakes me off.

"Man, I just want to thank you." The bearded man looks us up and down. "Do you need a ride?"

"No," I say at the same time Killer shrugs. I yank him off to the side.

"10k, what are you doing? You know groups get you killed!"

He takes hold of my hands gently, caressing them with his thumbs. "Trust me, Bex."

I sigh in submission, causing a grin to spread across his face. "Fine. I just really hope they don't get us eaten."

"Oh damn, we're out of gas!"

I eye Killer. "Strike one." He nods.

Everybody gets out of the cars. "Looks like you've got a flat," the darker-skinned lady, Warren, says, pointing at the car that Doc had driven.

"I can change it if you have a jack and a spare," I tell her, inspecting the tire.

"We have both," he says, grabbing a jack and a tool kit from the truck bed.

"We've got company!" Fan-flipping-tastic.

Two motorists drive by, eyeing us with suspicion, but not much more. They go by without stopping.

"Alright, let's do this quick," Warren says. I prop up the car before taking off the bolts and pulling off the tire.

I fall backward. A creeper, a still-kind-of-living one, is staring me in the face, trying to eat me. Thankfully, it's very much wrapped around the axle.

"What are you waiting for?! Kill it!" A man that they're trying to get to California, yells. Man, he looks familiar.

We stop at a highway full of cars. Doc whisks 10k away almost immediately to loot cars. I sigh, searching the cars alone. Maybe I can score some sunblock. Redheads are really not meant to go outside.

"Is your name by a chance Bexley Rollins?" I look over at the man, the same one who survived all of the walker bites.

"It's Bex."

"I know. I'm the one who gave you that nickname."

I raise an eyebrow. "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but-"

"I'm Alvin Murphy."

I stop, my mouth hanging open. Alvin Murphy was my mother's brother. "Mom said that you were dead."

He looks away. "Yeah, she wasn't too thrilled with me for a while."

"I'd say." I cross my arms, glaring at him.

"We've got a live one!" Doc pulls a man out of a car. I tune out the conversation almost immediately; instead, I study the man, trying to pick out his character from his actions and mannerisms.

I conclude my study. He isn't to be trusted.

"Killer," I whisper. He looks over at me, curiously. "We've got to go." He glares in annoyance, shaking his head. "10k, they're trying to take him with us. He has an ulterior motive." 10k walks away, ignoring me. Well, I see how it is.

I climb into the truck bed next to 10k and nudge his leg with the toe of my boot. He looks over at me, annoyance on his face.

"I'm sorry, Killer. I know you're lonely and I'm not enough." He remained silent. The truck passes a sign saying, "Jersey Devil Refinery." I need to prepare for the battle ahead.

Good thing, too, because the whole place is infested with Z's. "Fracking zombies," 10k says, grinning at me.

"Punny."

Edited: 6/2022