Emily and I were starting to finish up so we can get in the car and head southwest to the evac. I packed my 9 mil. pistol and SPAS-12 in the trunk so Emily wouldn't see (she'd never even seen a gun). I had also packed a machete, and fire axe in my duffel bag and then I tossed it in the back seat. We were done and ready.
The first few hours were quiet; what would I expect with the apocalypse. I finally broke the silence, "Listen Emily, I know you might be scared. I mean who wouldn't. But I swear, I will always protect. I always have, and some undead freaks aren't going to stop that."
She hadn't replied for a while. But when I least expected it, Emily leaned over, hugged me, and started to cry. "It's not that I'm scared if the zombies, or infected, or . . . whatever those things. Im scared that you're gonna die. We already lost Mom and I don't know what I would do if I lost you. If I did I might as well just drop dead right then a there."
I first I couldn't believe what my own daughter, my own flesh and blood, fucking said to me. She didn't even sound like my daughter.
"Emily. No matter what has happened, whats happening, and whats going to happen. I have been there, am going to be there, and will be there. I will always protect you. I love, Emily."
"I love you too Daddy!", she says as she hugs me again still crying. "Now c'mon we got to get to New Orleans". Now we're on the road. Not looking on what had happened. and not looking forward to what will happen.
I FEEL LIKE I REPEATED SOMETHING IN THE LAST PARAGRAPH. TELL ME IF I DID IN THE COMMENT PLEASE
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Strive, Thrive, Survive
HorrorWe used to lead a normal life. We'd wake up, get ready for work, eat breakfast, then go to work, etc. etc. . . . Notice how I say used to
