Rot

Chapter One

SURVEYING THE LAND below my hidey hole in the cliff, I saw the large buck grazing in some tall grass. Raising my arms, I zeroed in on the buck’s head, right below the base of his horns. Before the animal knew what was happening, my bullet was already well lodged in his skull.

            Silently celebrating my kill, I traversed the edge of the cliff and jumped to the ground, cursing as moderately sized rocks broke free under the soles of my boots and came clattering down noisily behind me. I immediately stopped and whipped my gun out. I surveyed the area, knowing the rotting leeches could barely hear but painfully loud noises, yet still paranoid for my safety.

            When I fully recognized the coast as being clear, I made my way to the buck and hauled him onto my back, gripping his legs over my shoulder. When I hunted bigger game, I never strayed far from the house, making it that much easier to haul back before the leeches could get to me.

            On the trek back home, I thought of Simba. I felt bad not letting him get the kill this time, but the last time he tracked our prey, it turned out to be a mountain goat, on a mountain. Simba stood at the base of the mountain, roaring up at the small goat, and he had soon attracted some leeches. They had been in a horde so I knew they were relatively new, therefore slow and stupid, and we had taken them down quite easily. I just didn’t want to risk attracting an older one and me, or God forbid, Simba getting hurt or infected.

            I saw the house in the distance, a large farmhouse, complete with a large garden to the side. There was decrepit fencing around the acreage, but it no longer housed the animals that my family had raised together.

            We had eaten the goats first, leaving enough to breed for more food. The rest soon died, though, as we didn’t have enough medicine stockpiled. Soon came the chickens, once more only leaving a few to breed and produce eggs. Then we finished off the pigs, who we just killed, sparing none, as not to run the risk of them getting sick and not being able to provide food.

            Now the only thing I had left was the garden. I had a large variety of vegetables and fruits in it, along with the fruit trees that I had planted with dad when I was a child. They would suffice, had I not needed to feed Simba.

            “Hey boy,” I smiled at the large, golden lion napping lazily in the sun.

            Simba gave me a once over before focusing on the buck on my back.

            “I got us some food, boy.” I dropped the buck under a shady tree off to the side of the house, where I soon got to work gutting and skinning it.

            Simba watched patiently, standing guard just next to the tree. Every now and then I would throw him some of the parts of the buck and he would happily gobble them down.

            After I had used some of the meat to cook a hearty stew, I let Simba devour the rest of the buck that I had neither eaten nor dried for jerky. With the downfall of civilization after the Outbreak, there was no longer anyone to keep the power running. Anything I killed was understood to be eaten the day I killed it, unless I made jerky of the rest. It was tiring to hunt every day, but I also took it as an opportunity to practice my shot and some other abilities that would help me survive longer.

            “You ready for bed, big fella?” I looked to where Simba was sprawled on the porch next to me.

            We often watched the sunset together in happy silence, knowing that we had lived through the day and would make it to the next.

            I opened the squeaking wooden door and made my way into the house, Simba trailing sleepily behind. After turning the deadbolt on the door and the smaller lock on the handle, I made my way up to my old bedroom. I got changed into a pair of my old pajamas and sighed as I sunk into the soft mattress.