Dead Rising: The Run Aways

Chapter Five

“So where’s your sister now?” Mitch asks, fumbling behind me.

I’m nearly jogging I’m walking so fast. But I need to hurry up. I’m an hour behind due to this guy, and I have to get back to Grace.

“Her name’s Grace.” I state. “And, she’s safe at our camp site.”

His eyebrows raise. “Exactly where is this camp site of yours?”

“Can we stop with the interrogation and focus? I need to get some weapons. I’m sick of this little knife.”

“What kind of weapons did you have in mind?”

I stop and turn to face him.

“I don’t know. The only kind of weapons I can use are knives and bow and arrows from when I took archery that one year.” I tell him.

“Oldschool, alright. I like it." He grins widely.

" Follow me.”

* * *

Mitch leads me to a large warehouse located just about a mile away from the cornerstore. From the outside, it looks like any old shack. It’s made out of wood, that is slowly rotting and vines cover the right side of it completely.

How have I not seen this place before?

“Welcome to my uncle’s shack. Home of all the mass weapons you could ever think of.” Mitch smiles, as he walks up to the door.

“It looks like it’s locked.” I state, looking up at the large, rusty lock holding the two handles together.

“Yeah, that’s what you think.” Mitch says, as he just takes the lock off. “Uncle Rob thought of it like a camouflage. If it looks like it’s locked, then it’s locked in some people’s small minds.” He laughs and glances at me.

I shove him gently aside, and open the door.

I realize Mitch wasn’t kidding. It did look like every weapon known was in here.

Mitch waltzes in and heads straight up the ladder, disappearing up on the second floor. I wander over to the back wall. There’s a box of grenades, another box of matches, another box of TNT. Hanging up on the wall is an assortment of guns that I don’t know the names of, much less how to use them.

“Where’d your uncle get all this stuff?” I yell up to him.

There’s a shuffle upstairs and a thud. Mitch yells back, “His work. He never told us what he did though. Something with the government.”

“It looks like he stole the entire government’s storage.” I mumble to myself.

There’s some more shuffling, but this time it’s behind me.

I eye the box of grenades.

“So Mitch, would you mind if I take a grenade or two?” I ask, jerking my head around, expecting to see Mitch. But it’s definitely not Mitch.

It’s one of the sick.

It looks like it was a teenage boy. His hair is blonde, and he has a chin dimple. His skin hasn’t started to fade yet, but his clothes are tattered and stained with blood, and his eyes are bloodshot.

He’s walking towards me, slowly.

“Mitch! Mitch! We have a situation here!” I scream.

“Hold on, hold on, I’m almost done!” He yells back, idiotically.

I take the knife out of my jean pocket and open it up.

The sick boy steps closer, close enough so I see that foam is coming out of his mouth, just like the others. It’s cloudy, and white, thick. He jumps and goes for my leg. He falls to the ground and tries to get back up, forcing his dead limbs to pick his weight up.

I take the chance and shove the knife in his back. His head jerks up, brainlessly trying to bite anything that he can reach. I grunt as I force the blade deeper, penetrating his flesh even more.  Because of the nonexistence of oxygen in his blood, the liquid that oozes out of the wound is purple. Even though the knife is as deep as it can go, he still moves. I try kicking it in more, as I did with the squirrel back in the woods, but it’s no use.

Then an arrow whizzes through the air and hits the boy right in his head. Finally, his limbs fall limp, and his head drops to the ground.

He’s definitely dead now.

Mitch walks up beside the corpse with a handmade bow and a bag full of arrows. “Hm. Maybe I should be the one to use the bow and arrows, eh?”

I snatch them from his hands, my face is hot. I’m not sure if it’s because of embarrassment or anger, but I get the feeling it’s a little of both.

“Thanks for saving my life Mitch. Oh, and also, thanks for so generously finding me my own bow and a bag full of arrows. You’re so kind Mitch.” He says mockingly in a high pitch voice.

“First off, I don’t sound like that. Second, I was fine. Third, let’s hurry up and get out of here. I’m worried that there are more of them, and honestly, I don’t want to stick around long enough to know for sure.”

“Sounds fair.” Mitch says as he picks up what I think is a shotgun. He also grabs a large bag that he puts the gun in, along with shells, a few grenades, and two stick of TNT.

“Never know when we’ll be needing those.” He says to himself, as he fills the bag, zips it up, and slings it over his shoulder.

I toss the bow in the leather bag, but only zip it up seventy-five percent of the way, so if I need the bow, I can get it out easily. I just hold the bag of arrows in my free hand.

“Let’s go.” I say firmly, putting the leather bag on my back.

“Your turn to lead the way.” Mitch says with a smile.