The Need for Survival

Chapter 7: A New Home.

I stick my head in through the rear windshield window, and listen as Bobby tunes the radio to the local news. I listen closely, hearing nothing but static. We all go silent, listening for anything about what's going on. There's a single gunshot, and with that the announcer begins to speak.

I listen in closely. his voice was soft, and barely audible. "Zombies are swarming the city. Cause under investigation.  The army has been sent in, but have been able to do little to keep order. The gov..." There is a short pause, with some scuffling in the background.  "SHIT! I've been bit! I've been b-!" There are two gunshots, and then we go back to listening to dead air. 

We sit there in silence. Would anyone attempt to continue a broadcast? How would people hear the news and stay updated to the outbreak?

We're miles away from the nearest city. It seems as If everyone here is dead. As we drive along the highway, cars are everywhere. They're on their side, in ditches, flipped over. There were very little people that have seemed to survive. The only noise besides us was the moans of the dead and the screams of the dying. 

We continue to maneuver our way through the wreckage, seeking a new shelter. Each zombie that follows, I take my spear and stab. We do this for hours, and eventually reach buildings. A gun store. What a conveniently placed building. We can now get everybody armed.

I tell Bobby to pull over, and signal Jim. I take out my rifle, and load a round, as Jim and Bob do the same.  "We'll check here and see if there's still anything good. "Chris, Abbie. You two take the cars up close. Amy, get the axe," I instruct, and point to the biggest person in Jim's car. "You can use the tire iron in the back of the car."

We walk to the front entrance, to find the glass doors broken, bloodied around the edges of the glass. Jim reaches for the door handle, and it won't open.  I put my face up against the glass, using my jacket sleeve to wipe away the dirt and blood that had collected on the window. "All clear," I whisper, not wanting to make much noise. "Big guy, you can get the door open. Everyone else get ready."We step back, readying our weapons to attack what ever comes out. The big guy jams his crowbar into the lock, and yanks it, and the door flies open. 

Nothing, or no one comes out, and I let out a sigh of relief. The inside of the building is pitch black, so I take out my light, and quickly tie it to the underside of my rifle.I do a sweep of the room, to see if there were any zombies that we could not see from inside. The floor was littered with bodies, and empty shells. "How Ironic. Everyone in the gun store, though able to defend themselves, all ended up dead," I hear Jim say behind me.  Seeing no walking dead, I go in further, and begin examining the displays. A lot  was missing, but there was still plenty left. As they back the cars up to the door, I begin loading the trucks with weapons and ammo.  I take a pistol and 5 loaded magizines for myself, an place them around my belt.

I make sure everyone gets their own weapon, and lead them outside. "Everyone knows how to use it?" I ask, facing the crowd. "If no, you press that button by the trigger. That unlocks the gun. When It's red you can shoot. Use your dominate eye to aim and line up the sight with your target, and pull the trigger to shoot. Easy enough."  I demonstrate, using a nearby zombie as a target.  "Load up!"

I squeeze in the back seat of the truck. "Remember anywhere nearby good for shelter?"  I ask the group.

"There's an old warehouse, some factories... what exactly are we looking for?" I hear Billy ask.

"Warehouse... That seems like a good idea," Amy mumbles. The others nod in agreement.

"To the warehouse!" I exclaim.

******

We go through even more carnage and chaos, eventually making it to the factory.  I get out, leaving my gun, and walk towards the building.  I walk through the overgrown weeds and tall grass, examining the building for weakpoints. There are vines and moss all over it. The windows are cracked or broken, letting slivers of light through the cracks.

I hear someone screaming for help. Thinking it might be one of the others, wo left before the go ahead, I run in the direction of the noise, taking the hatchet off of my belt. I jump, stopping myself in place. There is no one from our group before me. Instead, there is a boy that looks slightly younger than myself, surrounded by fresh zombies.

The kid wasmaybe around sixteen?  He had brown hair, and looked like someone who'd been infront of a computer too long. The boy had weapons he obvously coudn't handle. He raises a Desert Eagle, going for the zombie infront of him. I see he's holding it wrong, and before I can warn him he shoots. I watch as his arm bones are pushed backward by the force of the gun, out of the flesh, and they begin bleading profusely.

"Kid!" I shout, now trying to close the distance, raising the hatchet. It sinks into the back of a zombie's head, but there are already too many around him. I can only sit and watch, as a zombie takes a bite out of the kid's neck. I hack away at another zombie. A bite out his gut. The boy looks at me, horrorified. I hack away at another zombie. "I'm doing the best I can, kid," is all I say, watching the boy bleed out. I take a closer look at him. he's wearing a McDonald's uniform. I read the nametag. Dirk.

"A little help?!" I shout to the others. I turn back to the kid. "Everything'll be alright, Dirk," I reassure him. I raise the hatchet, as I see what's behind the kid. I swing my arm back, ready to throw, but before I can, it's too late. Right when it hits, the zombie takes a bite of the kid's trachea, ripping it out, leaving behind a puddle of bood. It takes another few minutes, the kid gasping for air, clutching at his throat. obvously in aganizing pain, he finally slumps over, dead. The others find us at that exact moment.

"Well guys... Help get this place cleared out. This is our new home."