Living with the Dead

Chapter 7

This chapter uses some foul language. Just a warning lol

Note: This chapter focuses on just Danny.

Chapter 7

Danny's POV

I pressed my knife into his face. Well, it isn't a him. It was, but now it isn't human. Let me rephrase that- I pressed my knife into it's face. The sound of it's body thumping against the floor attracted three more. They were each spaced apart by a good distance. The closest one was a woman. Anyone could easily see the bite mark that killed her. Her right shoulder was cut open with dried up blood staining her rotten skin.

As she- sorry, it- staggered toward me, I walked towards it. I kicked it's ankle, causing a bone to crack, and it to fall into a crawling position. I slammed my right foot into it's head. Again. One more time. The sound of it's head gushing open would probably be extremely gruesome for the average person, but I've been living in this apocalypse for a while now.

Growl. The second, rather chunky walker came for me next. Stuck in it's stomach was a screwdriver, well I think it was. Don't people understand that it's headshot only? I thought to myself. It jogged it's nasty body towards me, and I punched it in the face. It fell on it's back. I pulled out the screwdriver, and slammed it into it's eye. I left it there, and continued to the last one.

The others were back at the house. We were beginning to run out of food, after all, it's been about a month. I was probably around three blocks away from the house we're living in. It's been quiet the past week we've been here. Andy has surprisingly kept everyone together.

The last walker was right in front of me by now. I punched it in the face causing it to fall backwards, but not to the ground. It caught it's balance real fast. I pulled my knife from my pocket. Knife in hand, I picked my arm up, behind my head. Growl. A tingly feeling grew on my hand. It grew to a touch. It was hand. A nasty hand. A walker's. hand. My heart began to race. The walker in front of me became closer to me, and grabbed my shoulders. I yanked my arm away from the other walker's grip, and pushed the walker off of my shoulders. I tried to run, but one of them tugged my ankle, causing me to trip. Why are these things so damn strong?

*Flashback*

1 year before the apocalypse.

Narrative's POV

Danny had luckily come home from Afghanistan to surprise his wife for their wedding anniversary. She had been heartbroken when they found out he would be leaving for such a long time. He picked out the best diamond ring he could find at that famous jewelry store. He knew she was going to love it.

He turned the key into the keyhole, and twisted it. The door creaked open, and he slowly walked inside. The living room was dark. He checked the kitchen, but it was empty too. Every single room in the house was dark, except their bedroom. It was about 10 p.m., so she could've been asleep. He opened their door, and couldn't believe what he saw. His wife jumped out of bed, with a blanket over a body.

"Danny! What- what are you doing back?"

Danny couldn't think. He walked to his bed, and pulled the strange man up, and punched him the face, and knocked him out cold. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE." The man, of course, couldn't reply. Danny turned to his wife.

"How could you do this to me?" he whimpered, tears streaming down his face.

"Baby, I love you, and only you," she begged, rubbing her hands on his face.

"Get the fuck off of me," Danny pushed her away, and walked to his nightstand.

"What- what are you doing?" Danny's wife asked, knowing that his gun was in that drawer.

Danny didn't say anything. He opened the nightstand drawer, and pulled out a small pistol.

"Babe, come on! Put the gun down. You don't need to do that to yourself," she started crying.

"Oh, honey, it's not what I'm doing to myself, but what I'm doing to your other man." He pulled up the gun, and aimed at the strange man's head. "This piece of trash doesn't deserve to be alive."

Bang.

His wife was bawling her eyes out. She was mumbling words no human could understand.

"And neither do you," he said, aiming his gun.

Bang.

*Present*

Danny's POV

I lay on the ground, with two walkers on each side of my legs. My knife had fallen when I tugged my hands away from the walker. I had no weapon. No way of defending myself. Well, I had my hands, but that won't be enough for both of these monsters. I tried to kick them off of me, but they were too strong. I had no choice, but to call for help.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" I called, hoping not to attract any more walkers. The walkers hands were making their way up my legs.

"PLEASE! SOMEBODY!" What am I thinking? Nobody's going to come. Everybody is dead. I was just about ready to give up. I was just going to let them have me when I heard rapid footsteps coming towards me. The two walkers were forced off of me, and slaughtered. One's head was crushed in by a big, black boot, and the other was stabbed.

"Hey Danny. How've you been?" James said, pulling me up from the ground. He picked up my knife, and handed it to me. It was James, back from the street. Quinn's dad.

"I've been good, well not now, but yeah, I've been good," I told him.

"So is everybody okay?" he asked me.

"Yeah, we're hanging in there. How about your wife and daughter?" I asked back.

"We've been amazing! We were exploring for food, and we found a small convenient store. It was stocked! We're good for at least two years!" he told me, with excitement covering his face. "Well I have to go. Wouldn't want Terra to get worried."

Wow, that must be a lot of food, I thought to myself.

I knew that there was only one thing I could do. We need that food. Hell, we're already having to shorten out meals. I had to take it, and there's only one way to do that.

I threw my knife on the floor. "Hey James, did you drop your knife?" I called out to him. He was already about 100 feet away.

"Umm, I don't think so--"

I interrupted. "It's okay, I'll take it to you." I picked up the knife, and jogged towards him. "Here you go," I said, handing him the knife. But before he could take it, I kicked the back of his leg, causing him to fall. I sat over his body.

"Sorry I have to do this," I said.

"Danny, wait! Is this about the food? You can have it! Please! I have a wife and a daughter!" he was crying, begging for his life.

I didn't say anything. I lifted my knife, and plunged it into his stomach. I repeated this step, until he was dead. Gone.