Matches

Chapter 9

"Well, shit." I couldn't think of anything better to say. I mean, what would you do to follow up learning that a psycho was trying to kill you?

Jonathan chuckled. "That's one way of putting it." His comment broke the stressful atmosphere, and we all relaxed a tad.

Ryan turned back to Jonathan. "So where are the others?"

"They're at the main camp."

Ryan stood and walked back to the wall of weapons. "Should we leave now?"

"I mean, I'm down. Let's fucking go!" Jonathan hopped up and picked up a machete.

I walked over hesitantly. "Uh, do I get a weapon of choice as well, or...?"

"Here." Ryan picked up two knives. I took them from his hand cautiously. "Oh shit, yeah." He rummaged through a cabinet and pulled out a knife sheath that attaches to your thigh. I grabbed it and stood there while Ryan snagged the crossbow and quiver of arrows, checking all the cogs and gears to make sure they were primed and ready for action. Jonathan walked to the kitchen and started loading a few cans of food into a cloth bag. I stood awkwardly with the items in my hand. Ryan drifted back into the bedroom and picked up his notebook and a backpack. He stuffed his book inside and grabbed the sealed bag from Jonathan.

"Ok, are we all ready?" He turned to look at me. Confusion crossed his face.

I shuffled my feet in embarrassment.  "I, uh, don't know how to put this on."

"Oh. Sorry, I forgot you just got here." He walked over to me and grabbed the sheath, awkwardly kneeling down on one knee by my side. He reached around my right thigh and started fitting the leather straps. I raised my eyes to the ceiling, not willing to look down at him. I heard Jonathan chuckle. My cheeks started to heat up as Ryan tightened the hip strap.

"Ok that should be all," he said. Getting back into his feet. "If it starts to come loose or it starts chaffing your legs, tell me and I'll help fit it better."

I nodded and placed my two knives in the sheath. One was against my right thigh, and the other at my left hip.

Jonathan clapped his hands and bounced on his feet in anticipation. "Well now that that's fucking over, are we ready to go?"

"Let's move," Ryan agreed. We walked out through the open wall and into the dark forest.

The soft sounds of leaves under our feet soothed my buzzing mind. I couldn't help but run my fingers against the smooth, indented curves of the knives hilt. It was cool in contrast to my sweating hands. Ryan walked in front of me with his crossbow empty and pointed down. Jonathan paced at my six, constantly glancing up at the trees. I looked up, only to see canopies and stars peeping through openings in the leaves.

"Have there been any sightings near camp?" Ryan's sudden words after a very long silence made me jump.

"None," Jonathan replied. "The closest they've gotten was about 13 miles east by the river."

"Why the hell are they over there?" Ryan mumbled, seemingly more to himself than us.

"Why are you asking me?" Jonathan prodded. "It's not like I have any god damn answers."

"It was just a rhetorical question."

"I-I knew that! I was just answering your rhetorical question with- with my OWN rhetorical question!" Their voices started to raise in volume. Not even and hour out of the house and they already started bickering.