Neil
I panick. I can't die. I have to protect Nat!
In a shakey voice I assure, "Aaron.... Put the gun down. You don't understand. I need to protect Nat.."
"N-no! Die!" Aaron's voice slurrs and his finger shakes on the trigger. "I want Na-!"
Nat cracks both her fists on his head. I look at her. She looked wild and scared. She shakes and holds her temples.
"What have I done..." She holds her head with her fists. She looks at her shoes and her hair falls over her face, blocking it from my veiw. A tear rolls off her cheek and plips onto Aaron's cheek. She saved me..
"You... Saved me Nat." I say/whisper. I would usually think I would be the one to save her. But she saved me from gun point. "Lets go."
She shakes with craze. She merely nods and follows me, sniffing and brushing her long blond and cyan hair out of her face. We walk through town, shooting an occasional zombie. They were pretty low populated now. What happened? Nat shuffles, hezitates not knowing what to do, looking around me. She scuffs her feet against the gravel, holds up her machine gun and fires a few inches away from my chest. I hear a thump to my left and see a zombie fall to the floor, a few feet away from me.
She saved me again.
Aaron
Betrayal. That's the first feeling I feel when I open my eyes, lazily waking up. My head throbs in sync with my broken heart. Nat and Neil were gone, probably flirting off somewhere, shooting zombies, kissing, and eating. I was left with Hunter. He starts a fire and I crawl over to it, like a small child crawling to the fireplace during winter. But it's Spring. Not Winter. But it's dead cold right now. I huddle inside my jacket.
Hunter pipes up, "So... Nat, huh?"
"Shut up," I growl and snicker. "I regret not shooting myself."
We both laugh. The laughing fades. I hear a clang then a moan. I turn and pull my gun. Hunter take the que and lifts his, too. The ally behind us was dark. But then there was a darker shadow coming toward us. I stand and aim. What I think is a zombie runs up to me and slaps my gun down. Oh. It's not a zombie. It's just a doctor... Or scientist... Or whatever.
He grabs my shoulders and cries out, "How are you still alive."
"Swag." I snicker.
"It's all my fault!" He weeps. He lets go and kneels, burying his face in his hands. What. I think.
I tilt my head. "Shoot me." He utters. I barley hear it. Shoot me?!
YOU ARE READING
Trouble Makers
ActionI wrote this story when I was in elementary school. I won't be taking it down because it took me a lot of time and effort to write and it was the beginning of making long stories for me. It is *heavily* inspired by Maximum Ride by James Patterson.
