30 Days of Undead Summer [Zombie Challenge]

June 9th: #FridayFreeForAll

This story is based on the above prompt.

Stay Alive

The amount of bodies that surrounded me was overwhelming. For the past four months, I'd been alone, surrounded by nothing more than the dirt and the moans of the dead. When I somehow stumbled across this compound of survivors, I wasn't sure if I should stay or keep going.

If there was one thing I'd learned in this life, no one survived on their own. My father had told me that. He told me, "Never trust a survivor until you find out what they did to survive." He told me that after we were jumped by a group of people in the brush. They took everything until my father made me close my eyes.

The only thing I remember about that time now, was the blood stains on his shirt for weeks.

Looking around, I saw different types of people, but my eyes zeroed in on the big guy in the corner. In his hands was a large sandwich with at least tomato, ham, lettuce. It was pretty thick and my eyes narrowed on the amount of food. If I could judge based on his large midsection, he hadn't gone without food once since the end had happened.

My fingers tightened around my spoon. I began to wonder if he had been alone. Probably not. A guy of his statue had to be with a group. I had learned to tell when someone had been alone, in a group, or a compound such as this since the beginning. People in compounds were always clean and a bit too spoiled, the ran for cover when the dead moaned. Someone alone avoided contact with others at costs.

Yet people in groups thought they were better than everyone. Each group had certain members that did certain things. If I had to guess I'd say he was the one that ate most food and coward behind the others who killed the dead.

Shifting my eyes, I found a girl who raked along her food without even eating a bite. When her eyes lifted, my voice fell into my stomach. I recognized her, from her face, to her eyes and everything about the dead look.

I thought she was dead.

I swallowed down the bile swelling in my stomach. Without looking up, I heard the entire mess hall gasp. When the shadow fell over the table, it was then I chose to look up. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched a knife she must have gotten from the counter.

"How could you?" she accused, pointing the knife at my face.

I didn't even flinch. Honestly, I probably deserved a hell of a lot worse than her words. Pushing up from the table, I stood before her ready for whatever she wanted to do to me.

Suddenly, as she moved closer, knife lifted toward me, a scream broke through the mess hall. Twisting everyone, saw the woman running into the mess, but she wasn't alone. She was followed quickly by a swarm of dead.

Immediately the girl in front of me turned her attention toward the dead. Closing my eyes for just a second, I could picture the old life I used to have. Prom dresses, makeup, all of it, but now it was over. My police officer father who had taught me everything he knew was dead. I still remember putting the gun to his head and pulling the trigger myself.

When I opened my eyes, I realized most of the mess hall was quickly becoming covered by the dead. Reaching down for the bag at the floor, I pulled it over my shoulder. Picking up the knife from the table, I pushed it into my belt before walking away.

My father once said, once a coward, always a coward. Maybe it was my fault, Linda's family had been killed. After all, I just left them behind to fend for themselves in a horde. The same horde that killed my dad. We made pact that if we both couldn't get away, at least one of us would. I knew my father would never choose himself over me, so when the horde began to take all of them, I acted just as he told me.

As they began to kill everyone, I shot my dad in the back of the head before running.

I gritted my teeth at the familiar screams behind me as I walked out the door. I probably should have kept going when they found me.

Trust when I say, never trust a survivor. You don't know what they've done to survive.