Fight for your life

Chapters 4&5 [Extra]

-Murdoc's P.O.V-
"Murdoc," she snaps. I ignore her, continuing to walk. "Hey Murdoc," she says louder, chasing after me.
"What?" I snap, glaring down at her. Why did she follow me? I think, angry yet somehow pleased at the same time.
"What do you mean, what?" She asks, getting louder. She crosses her arms and leans to the side, the same pose every time she gets angry. "You went off on your own and you were heading towards the woods," she says even louder. I just stare down at her, trying not to smile down at her. Her height has always amused me, considering being next to me she looks like a child. "So?" She snaps, and I remember my anger. "Now you don't want to talk?"
"You didn't want to listen when I was talking," I snap, keeping my voice low as I step closer. "And I'm sorry if I don't want to be cooped up in some house, laughing and pretending nothing is wrong." I hiss, angry with everyone in the group. I don't want to take it out on her, but she's the only one here and I want her to know my opinion.
"Pretending nothing is wrong?" She snaps even louder, and I know I made a mistake. "Do you really think we can just forget? That's bullshit, Mudz, and you know it!" I flinch a little when she uses my nickname. She knows she's the only one who I let use it, and I wonder if she knows using it now makes guilt force it's way into my head. "It's always there! In the back of my mind, at every moment!" She steps closer, pushing me hard. Granted she's not very strong, but the surprise nearly knocks me on my ass. "I'm sorry we aren't emotionless like you!" She shouts, angry.
"Emotionless?" I ask. I almost wish I was emotionless, maybe I wouldn't feel like screaming right now. If I was emotionless, maybe I wouldn't have gotten jealous of the others, making her laugh. "Is that what you think I am-" I pause, seeing movement in the woods. "God damn it." I instinctively grab her arm, stepping in front of her and pulling out my knife. Of course she immediately steps next to me, and together we both stab the things in the head. She uses her bayonet, which was a gift from her grandfather. Once she replaces her rifle around her shoulder, I grab her arm as gently as I can, holding her hand out in front of her for a moment, but she yanks it away. "You're shaking?" I ask, my original anger and offense being replaced with worry.
"Yeah," she hisses, keeping her voice lower now. "I'm..." she pauses, looking down. "Frustrated. And," she pauses, sighing. "And I know you're not 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."
I laugh, rolling my eyes. "You don't have your jacket either, Jones."
"Because you ran off!" She says getting loud again, making me laugh. "And what was that about?" She says, poking my chest, making me laugh again. "Slamming the door and running off? Were you that upset we were having fun?"
"No," I say, shaking my 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," she says, and I guess she has a point. And if you agree with Barrett, why did you side with Scout this morning?" Before I have time to answer, she elbows me, pulling out her knife. Four zombies stumble towards us. "Where are they coming from?" She asks, grabbing one of them by the shoulder and quickly stabbing it in the head.
"I dunno," I answer, furrowing my eyebrows and stabbing on in the temple. She stands another, and as I grab the fourth ones arm, three more stumble into view. I stab the one closest to me, and fear rips through me as I see Jones go down, but three of them stumble towards me, and there's nothing I can do. After I take down two of them before I see Barrett come from around the house and help her. With a sigh of relief I take down another.
After a few minutes, Jones and Scout support Donnie back across the street. Barrett and I stand on either side of them, holding out pistols out as we make our way back to the house. Three more zombies stumble after us, but they're pretty far off, and I'm not completely sure they recognize us as living. That and I don't want to risk the noise of a gun drawing in more. I rush them a bit, relived as we close the door. Scout half-carries Donnie to the couch, but Jones stops Barrett and I by putting a hand on our chests. "Hey. Nope. Shoes off. They're muddy and bloody and from this point on," she gestures to the floor, "that mud 'n blood won't come out." We both groan and roll our eyes before crouching down to take them off. Jones walks into the living room for a moment, and comes back with Donnie's shoes in her arms. Her and Barrett follow me into the kitchen where we all drop our shoes. Jones and Barrett both go back to the living room for a minute, but Jones rushes back into the entrance hall and says "Well fuck," before promptly throwing the front door open.
"What are you doin-" I yell, fear gripping me as I rush towards Jones, who lets a dog run into the house. A zombie makes it half way through the door, which Jones struggles to keep shut. I pull her aside, opening the door just enough to kick the dead girl through the doorway, where she knocks two others down. I slam the door, grabbing her wrist and pulling her forward, wanting to hug her in relief. But I don't. "What the hell, Jones?" I growl as the zombies start to pound on the door.
"I mean," she bites her lip and I have to look away. "I haven't seen a dog in forever, and I couldn't just let him get eaten! It's painful and cruel and- and-" she just shrugs and gestures to the dog. I sigh, shaking my head as she bends down and pats her lap. The new mouth to feed is almost worth her smile. "Come 'ere boy!" I fake-groan as the little dog runs up to her excitedly.
"Um, what the hell was all that?" Barrett asks, jogging in. "Is that a dog?" He asks, amazed.
"A what?" Scout yells, jumping up and running towards us. "Ho-ly shit!" She yells, falling to the floor and patting her lap. "We gotta show Donnie!" She stands up again, patting her legs. Both the dog and Barrett follow her, so she takes her opportunity to say "Good boy," to him before she pats his head, making him mad. I shake my head and sigh. "You people are so reckless," I lean against the door and sliding down it. "Reckless and exhausting."
"And so much fun, right?" She says in a sarcastic voice, watching the door. "Should we move everyone upstairs? Or go out and kill them? What if someone passed by? It'll be obvious we're he-"
"Jones," I cut her off, staring up at her. "You're worrying too much," I say, and she sighs, sliding down the door as well so she's sitting next to me. She closes her eyes and I laugh for a second, before taking a chance. I put my arm around her, and she leans into my shoulder, groaning.
"How can I not worry? I'm in charge of four teenagers. And a dog."
I glance down at her, still skeptical about her age and rank. She doesn't act like a military woman. Especially now, whining about being in charge of four people. "Okay, well the dog is your fault," I say with a small laugh, adjusting my arm around her tiny shoulders. "And I wouldn't say you're exactly in charge of me." I add with a grin.
"Do you wanna be the leader then?" She asks, adjusting her own position so she's closer, making me smile more. "Because you can be. Might want to socialize with the others more, though," She adds.
"Why talk to them when I can talk to you?" I ask, staring down at her hands in her lap, wanting to hold her hand.
"Oh I get it, gotta get in with the boss, huh?" She asks, elbowing me playfully. We both laugh for a moment, until a loud thump makes her jump, so her arm rests on my knee.
"Ugh, I'm going somewhere else," she mutters, crushing my dreams. "Are you going to guard the door all day, or do you want to come help name the dog?" She asks, standing up and holding a hand out to help me up. I want to take it, but I know she'll go sit in the living room with the others, which I don't want to do.
"I'll stay here awhile," I mutter.
"Suit yourself," she says quietly. I just nod, watching her shrug and walk off.
They all talk for a little while, and the banging on the doors stops as I watch Jones and Scout head for the basement door. Maybe twenty minutes later Barrett and Donnie follow them. I put my head down against my knees when I hear the chatter pick up, and silently wonder how we ever survived in the woods. Maybe five minutes later I hear Jones come back up. She walks into the living room, comes back out, pauses, then walks off into the kitchen. By the sound of it she's searching through cabinets.
Another fifteen minutes later I hear a loud bang, like metal hitting the floor, and her cursing. Finally, she walks into the hallway, straight towards me, and stops. She crouches down and pokes my cheek gently. I raise an eyebrow, looking up at her, but not really focusing on her. "Come on man," she says, raising her eyebrow back. "You gotta get up. Out of my way."
"Out of your way?" I ask, dreading her answer.
"Yeah," she answers, reaching out and grabbing my arm, attempting to pull me up.
"Where do you think you're going?" I ask, actually focusing on her. She's wearing a way to big brown sweater that falls off one of her freckled shoulders. The color of the sweater against her naturally bronzed skin was beautiful, and again he wanted to take her hands into his. "You're sweater... It's nice."
"Thanks, and I'm not going anywhere, Mudz. I'll be on the porch for like, 30 seconds." She tugs on my arm again. "The zombies are gone, right?"
"What do you want?" I ask, standing.
"A flower pot."
"A flower pot?" I ask, confused.
"Yeah. The medium sized one. Just the pot." I nod, unlocking the door and waiting for any banging to start up again. When I don't hear anything, I grab the flower pot, dump it out, and close the door again, locking it.
"Can I ask what this is for?" I ask, handing it to her.
"I'm gonna make coffee," she answers proudly, making me smile as I follow her into the kitchen. She does a few things to the pot, and I laugh a little as I see the tipped over grill, with ash all over the floor in the back room doorway.
About thirty minutes later, everyone sits in the living room, drinking their coffee. Jones sits on the arm of the couch, her knees pulled to her chest and her ankles crossed. She had changed into gray shorts, that I didn't know she owned until now, and she had a big knitted blanket over her legs. She held her cup with both hands, and stared out the window calmly, and I wished we could stay like this forever. I wish we could have met under different circumstances.
That I could have pushed her out from in front of a speeding car, or saved her from drowning instead of saving her from a horde of the cannibalistic dead. That she would have stocked with me because she was interested, not because she felt indebted to me, and because I might be one of the last living people on the planet.
We could be like this every night, her wearing sweaters, and sipping coffee, me reading a book, or sitting by the fire. She could have made the coffee in a real coffee pot, and not a flower pot stove. We could even have a dog, like Puck. She would have rescued him from a shelter instead of from zombies.
But things didn't turn out that way.
The dead are coming back, and we have to fight to survive. So for now, I'll just savor the moment while I can.
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A/N:
Okay so while I was writing chapters 4&5 I kept thinking about Murdoc's pov bc,, he's desperately in love w her okay. So this is like,, and extra
Tbh It's the longest chapter I've written but.. it's two chapters combined so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
lol I bet ur all gonna be annoyed when you read any authors notes bc my not-writing text is terrible n annoying
¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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(x . x)
c(") (")    There take my deady bun
                        She looks kinda funny
                                   Bc of the font and spacing
                                                       But she loves you