Last Resort | | l.h. a.u.

Crack of Dawn

I struggled to catch my breath as I quickly ran away from the walkers behind me. The sun peaked from behind the eastern horizon, meaning I had been running all night looking for a place of safety. My legs protested as I ran on, pushing my limits to find a place where the walkers could't reach me.

Incoherent growling and the occasional sound of twigs snapping rippled through the stagnant air. I kept my gun gripped tightly in my hands, worridly looking behind my back every few strokes. Panting heavily as I ran through the trees, I strained to look through the heavy fog that settled on the earth as I worridly looked for danger ahead and behind me.

The group I used to stay with were dead, and it was all my fault. It was my night to keep lookout, and make sure that no walkers intruded camp. I slipped today, and fell asleep. My best friends were dead and it was my fault.

I pushed the disturbing images of faceless monsters feeding on my friends as I pushed through the trees, panting, and certainly cut, judging from the warm blood pooling in my worn out shoes. My stomach growled. I hadn't ate in a day. Today we were supposed to go raiding, but that was obviously not going to happen now. 

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye I saw a clearing in the woods. It seemed to me that there was a cabin, accompinied by some scattered tombstones. As I looked around I saw no walkers following me anymore, yet I still quickly ran to the cabin, not taking any chances. 

Suddenly, as I was going to walk up the stairs to what seemed to me as the main building, a cold hand grabbed my ankle. I furiously tugged, trying to slip away from the walker that was now very evidently trying to feast on my foot. 

"Shit!" I shouted as I awklwardly tumbled to the ground. The walker groaned as it tried to bite my calf. I struggled to keep it from creating a bite, which would end up with me brain dead and ultimately flesh hungry.

I suddenly remembered the gun I stashed in my front pocket when I noticed the house. I took it out considering my options. I could either shoot the walker in the skull  or the heart, the only two places that could kill these things, and grab the attention of other walkers, or I could bash him with my foot until he died, which would waste my time and potentially open up my wound further and attract other walkers anyway with the scent of blood. 

I decided to go with the latter. 

With my free foot I kicked the walker in the arm that was holding my ankle in a death grip. For a dead person, he sure did have a stong grip. I kicked mercislessly until the grip of the walker loosened completely, giving me back the advantage of standing. Deciding that kicking him would take too much time and effort I didn't have, I fished the knife I managed to acquire before the walkers grabbed me at camp and quickly jabbed it in the head. For good measure I stabbed it a couple more times until I was sure the walker wasn't going to get up. 

I finally ventured into the house, grateful that I would be able to rest and possibly find something to heal my ankle.

Since it was the crack of dawn, the building was slightly lit. The air was heavy and dusty, making it hard to breathe.  I could barely see my way around.  Curiously, I observed my surroundings. In the far right corner lay a radio laying on top of an expensive looking vintage table. The room was bordered by a beautiful carved wooden pattern that followed all across the room and into another. Careful not to let my gaurd down, I held my gun in an upright position ready to shoot. I searched the home quickly, so far coming across nothing. As I followed one room to another, I realized that whoever owned this funeral home DEFINITELY had some big bank.

I came across stairs leading two directions. I chose to go upstairs first. The flight of stairs lead to an open space. It looked like it was once an office. I scanned the area for any possible places that walkers could be hiding. Thankfully there was nothing. I retreated back down the stairs to the main floor, then continued down the stairs to the lower half of the building. I paused in front of a door. There were words written on it.

OPEN AT YOUR OWN RISK. DEAD INSIDE.

My face scrunched up in confusion as I took this information in. I mean, it was a funeral home afterall. Why wouldn't there be dead inside?

I twisted the door knob allowing easy entry to the room.

A foul stench burned my nostrils as I entered. My jaw nearly hit the floor as I took in what I saw.

Out of all things that could have been in there, there were dead animals inside. The overwhelming stench of the rotting bodies was enough to make me sick. Not that there was anything to throw up, I hadn't ate in ages. 

I quickly exited the room, not wanting to be in the presence of dead animals. Once I was back on the main floor, I walked to the kitchen for a chair. I picked one up and carried it to the front door. I had to make sure that if I was staying here, the place was secure. I placed the chair under the knob so nothing could easily get in. I closed all the blinds, giving a gloomy feel to the beautiful, yet creepy room.

As soon as I was sure the area was secure, I headed back to the kitchen. I opened one of the cherry wood cabinets, deciding that whatever was in here I would eat. Satisfied with the jar of suspiciously dust-free peanut butter, I dug in. It wasn't the healthiest thing to eat, but at least I had something to consume. I continued to eat up the peanut butter happily; I quite enjoyed peanut butter actually, I peered around the cabinets for more food I could eat.

I found a bowl and poured the Frosted Flakes I found in another cabinet into it. I ran my hand through my short choppy blond hair and sighed.

After I finished my bowl of dry cereal, I searched the kitchen for knives. I found a few butcher knives. Deciding to make the best of what I had, I settled on working to improve my aim.

Out of my old group I was the least expirienced. Sure, I could shoot a gun and stab a walker, but I had no skill. I'm lucky to be alive being the klutz I am. When I was sure my aim had improved from whacking the walls with knives, I decided to go to bed. Settling for the main-room sofa, I pulled my jacket tight around me and settled into a disturbing dream of walkers gnawing on my best friends's faces. 

~

this is my first book ever.  I hope you all enjoy it. I put a lot of hard work into it.

-♥