Fight for your life

Chapter Four

"Stay here," I order before I jog down the stairs and out the front door. I'm still fixing my belts as I glance around the street, checking for the living or the dead before I run after him. He disappears around a house, and I know he's going towards the woods. I jog after him and catch up quickly, considering he's walking. We walk in silence, long enough for me to realize that neither of us have our jackets. We make our way all the way to the edge of the forest before I say anything. "Murdoc." I say, slowing down.
He keeps walking.
"Hey, Murdoc," I say a little louder, catching back up with him and grabbing his arm. He turns around and yanks his arm out of his grip.
"What?" He asks, scowling at me.
"What do you mean, what?" I snap, crossing my arms. "You went off on your own, and you're heading towards the woods,"As I step closer he just stares down at me, and I wish he wasn't 6 feet tall, or that I wasn't 5'3". It'd make yelling or lecturing him seem less childish and naggy, anyway. "So?" I ask, glaring up at him. He just stays silent, staring down at me, making me angrier. "Now you don't want to talk?" I snap, glaring at him.
"You didn't want to listen when I was talking," he says in a low, angry voice, stepping closer. "And I'm sorry if I don't want to be cooped up in some house, laughing and pretending nothing is wrong!"
"Pretending nothing is wrong?" I snap. "Do you really think we can just forget? That's bullshit, Mudz, and you know it. It's always there! In the back of my mind, at every moment!" I snap, pushing him. "I'm sorry that we aren't emotionless like you!" I'm nearly shouting now, and I have to cross my arms to hide my shaking hands.
"Emotionless?" He hisses, still keeping his voice low. "Is that what you think I am- god damn it," he snaps, grabbing my arm and pulling me back, pushing me behind him. I whirl back around, groaning as two zombies stumble towards us. I take my rifle from my back as Murdoc takes out his knife. We both stab in unison, his knife and my make shift bayonet. Its for an older rifle model, from the civil war, and I'm just glad it hasn't slipped off yet. I step on it's head, pulling the bayonet out and put the gun back over my shoulder. Murdoc steps closer to me, grabbing my arm gently, staring down at my hands that I yank away from him.
"Your hands are shaking?" It's more of a statement than a question.
"Yeah," I snap, quieter this time. "I'm... frustrated. And," I close my eyes and sigh. "And I know you aren't emotionless, you're just.. quiet. But you're being a dick, and you can't just run off on your own. It's dangerous, and you don't even have your jacket."
He rolls his eyes and laughs a little. "You don't have your jacket either, Jones."
"Because you ran off!" I complain, and he laughs. "And what was that about?" I say a little louder, poking him in the chest. "Slamming the door, running off. Were you that upset that we were having fun?"
"No," he says quickly, shaking his head. "I just.. being in these houses everyday, Jones, we're becoming sheltered from the dangers of the outside world-"
"We're staying safe. Avoiding dangerous situations is not sheltering ourselves, it's keeping us alive, and if you agree with Barrett, why did you side with Scout this morning?" I ask, but after a quick glance to the woods, I don't have time to listen to an answer. I elbow him, pulling out my knife this time, because it's easier to pull out. Four of them stumble towards us, moaning and groaning, and I look around. "Where are they coming from?" I ask, stepping towards the closest, a woman who's teeth are completely exposed. I put a hand on her shoulder, holding her arms length away as I put my blade through her skull.
"I dunno," he answers, looking around as well before stabbing another in the side of the head. The body falls, and as I put my knife through the third one, three more stumble into view. Murdoc stabs another, and a hand on my shoulder makes me spin around. I only hesitate for a moment, but it's long enough for me to trip, the zombie coming down on top of me. I use one hand to hold it back, pushing on its throat, and with my other hand I reach around for my knife, which had fallen out of my hand. I turn my head, searching for the fallen blade until the body on top of me goes slack, and Barrett is kicking it off of me.
"You gotta stop falling, J," he laughs, grabbing my hand and pulling me up. He hands me my knife, pats me on the back, and turns to stab another zombie. Scout kicks one down with a heeled boot, then kicks its head, hard enough for the very rotted head to fly off and land a few feet away from Donnie, still snapping. Donnie squeals and stomps on it, crushing the skull and getting blood all over her new-used tennis shoes. She turns around and pukes, and Scout is quick to take out the zombie heading towards her. She stabs it in the head and then rubs Donnie's back for a moment. "At least you don't have to hold her hair back," Barrett yells, laughing as he stabs another one in the head. The two girls do look ridiculous, Scout wielding off zombies as Donnie leans against a house, trying not to puke.
Murdoc grabs my arm, pulling me behind him again, stabbing a zombie that came to close, and I whirl around so we're back to back, fending off another zombie. "Where are they coming from?" I ask loudly, seeing three more stumbling towards us. Murdoc Scout and I all step forward, them stabbing the two in the head while I kicked the last down, letting Barrett stomp it's head in. We all step back, looking around, a little confused.
"Twenty Two," Scout comments, sounding slightly impressed.
"Where did they come from?" Barrett asks, looking around.
"I mean, they usually travel in groups, but like, groups of three or four, right?" Donnie asks, looking around.
"Yeah," I answer, looking around as well. "We should go back to the house," I say, sheathing my knife and jogging over to help Scout support Donnie back to the house. Barrett and Murdoc both hold up their guns, each watching a side of the road as we all cross the street. I don't turn around to see, but by the way Barrett and Murdoc rush us, I can guess there are more. Once we get into the house, Murdoc locks the door while Scout lies Donnie down on the couch. "Hey-" I turn and stop the boys, putting a hand on either of their chests. "Nope. Shoes off. They're muddy and bloody and from this point on," I point to where the tile stops and carpet starts, "that mud 'n blood won't come out."
They both groan and roll there eyes, moving to take them off. I kick my half-tied boots off while I check the floor. Scouts boots are somehow mud-free, and Scout managed to lift Donnie enough that no blood from her tennis shoes got onto the floor. I take her shoes off as gently as possible while Scout hands her a water bottle and a large bowl. Murdoc and Barrett both carry their shoes into the kitchen, tossing them into the sink. I shrug, going back for my shoes so I can throw mine and Donnie's into the sink as well. Scout sighs as she fixes a roller, and Barrett goes to sit in a recliner. There's a clawing noise at the door, and I curse quietly, going to glance out the window.
"Well fuck," I mutter, rushing to the door and unlocking it.
"What are you doin-" Murdoc starts, rushing forward as I quickly toss the door open, letting a medium-sized shaggy dog rush into the house, along with about half a zombie. I try to slam the door, but her arm and leg both block it. Murdoc pushes me aside, opening the door enough for him to kick the zombie through the door. She stumbles back, falling into two others, who all fall backwards down the porch stairs. He slams the door, locks it, then turns around, grabbing my wrist. "What the hell, Jones?" he growls quietly.
"I mean," I frown, biting my lip. "I haven't seen a dog in forever, and I couldn't just let him get eaten! It's painful, and cruel, and- and-" I shrug, pointing to the dog who's sniffing around the couch. He comes to about my knee, and he's the scraggliest beige/tan looking terroir-mutt I've ever seen. He sighs, shaking his head while I smile, bending down and patting my lap. "Come 'ere, boy!" Murdoc groans as the dog runs up to me, putting his paws on my lap.
"Um, what the hell was all that?" Barrett asks, getting up and jogging into the entrance room. "Is that a dog?" He asks, ignoring the banging on the door.
"A what?!" Scout yells, rushing into the room. "Ho-ly shit!" She yells, dropping to her knee and patting her lap. "We gotta show Donnie!" She says, standing up and patting her legs to get the dog to follow her. Barrett follows them as well, earning him a "Good boy!" From Scout, who ruffles his hair.
Murdoc sighs, shaking his head. "You people are so reckless," he groans, sliding down the door. "Reckless and exhausting."
"And so much fun, right?" I ask half-heartedly, looking at the door uneasily. "Should we move everyone upstairs? Or go out and kill them? What if someone passed by? It'll be obvious we're he-"
"Jones," he says, looking up. "You're worrying too much." I sigh, sliding down the wall to sit next to him. I close my eyes and he laughs, tossing his arm around me. I lean into his shoulder, groaning.
"How can I not worry? I'm in charge of four teenagers. And a dog."
"Okay well the dog was your fault," he says with a laugh. "And I wouldn't exactly say you're in charge of me." He adds, grinning.
"Do you want to be the leader then?" I ask, closing my eyes. "Because you can be. Might want to socialize with the others more, though."
"Why talk to them when I can talk to you?" He asks.
"Oh I get it, gotta get in with the boss, right?" I joke, elbowing him. We both laugh for a moment, until a particularly loud thump makes me jump. "Ugh, I'm going somewhere else," I mutter, starting to stand. "Are you going to guard the door all day, or do you want to come help name the dog?"