Flesh Eaters

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Chapter 13 - Saved

*Grey's POV*

Hours pass and still Murphy has not return. The sun starts to show itself in the East and I fear the worst. I shake the thoughts from my head and scan the forest that surrounds me, trying to decide if it's safe enough to leave the truck.

Nature calls and I decide it's safe enough. Carefully I open the trucks door and slip out. Before I leave the safety of the truck I grab the handgun Murphy left with me and tuck it in my belt. Better safe the sorry.

Slowly I make my way to the bushes. As I walk I realize just how weak I still am. My legs wobble as I move, I sort of have a gimp. Halfway to the bushes I find myself growing exhausted. I hear myself wheezing as I breath. I stop next to a tree and lean against it. I need to rest for a moment.

I reach up and wipe off the cold sweat that's formed on my forehead. As I force myself to breath my ribs buckle sending a wave of pain through my body. I collapse on the ground panting.

Maybe I shouldn't have bothered leaving the truck.

As the pain passes I manage to sit up on the ground. I lean against the tree and listen to the sounds of the forest waking up. Birds chirp happily in the tree, almost as if they didn't know the world ended. I close my eyes and enjoy their songs.

Oddly enough their songs seem to stop suddenly. I open my eyes and gaze up into the trees wondering if maybe they flew away. I start to stand to get a better look. As I stand up a cold wind gusts through the forest, chilling me to the bone. I shiver and continue to the bushes.

Finally reach them and do what needs to be done. Once finished I start to make my way back to the truck. I stop at the same tree and breath carefully. Another cold gust of wind blows through the forest and I swear I hear my name whispered in it. I shiver and study the trees around me.

Did Murphy come back? Is he wondering why I'm not in the truck? Clint, is Clint back to hurt me?

"No, Clint's dead," I tell myself.

I sigh and straiten myself. "Nobodies here, nobodies going to hurt you."

"Is that so," a voice says.

I spin around and scream. Clint, back from the dead! He stands behind me, leaning against a tree with a wicked smirk spreading across his face. I stumble backward and fall on my back. I shuffle back towards the truck the best I can. My broken ribs buckle and I struggle to breath. Pain consumes me and my vision blurs.

"Easy there," he says calmly, almost caring.

His voice, I don't recognize it. It sounds lower, more rough. I blink my eyes trying to clear my vision. How can somebodies voice change within a few hours. As the pain passes and my vision clears, I see him moving towards me.

"GET BACK," I shout and pull out my handgun. I aim it the best I can at his head. My arm shakes slightly but I know if I pulled the trigger he'd be missing his head.

His arms shoot up above his head, like he's surrendering to me. "No buddy needs to get hurt Grey," he says and takes another step towards me.

I turn the safety off and cock the gun, a silent warning that I'll shoot if he moves any closer.

He freezes in place and watches me with his hands still raised above his head. "You think I'm Clint don't you," he suddenly says.

I keep quiet and study the man that stands in front of me. I study his face and realize it's not scarred from acne as Clint's was. Unlike Clint, this man has a light stubble covering his face but his facial features greatly resemble Clint's. He also a few inches taller and more muscled.