Turned (A Chandler Riggs Fanfic)

Chapter 9

First thing's first: I had to get out of house without making any noise. I tried to slip out of the sheets and onto the floor without making a sound. The very top of my toes sank into the bedroom carpet as I silently made my way out of the bed. I saw Chandler's body flinch and froze, unbreathing. After about 30 seconds, I let out my breath as quiet as possible and continued towards the door.
I twisted the knob and pulled the door open a crack as it began to screech loudly, as do most old houses. I wasn't surprised it would make noise, and just pulled the door open little by little and walked through as soon as the door was open wide enough.
I left the door open ajar so I wouldn't have to reopen it and make even more noise, but closed enough so the hallway light wouldn't shine in, waking up Chandler. The stairs creaked under my feet as well, surprise surprise. The cold, hardwood floor made my legs shiver a little as I stepped down onto each one, until I had finally made it to the main room, only steps away from the door.
I sighed as I remembered it had been boarded up, and tiptoed around the room looking for another way out. To my luck, there was a window in the very top corner of the kitchen above the counter, probably a fire escape? Who knows. I climbed the counter and unhitched the latch, pulling myself onto the ledge. The cool night air send a shiver down my spine. My leg scraped the edge of the window sill, and I watched as fresh blood ooze the new cut. "Shit..." I whispered under my breath. I ignored the wound and perched myself on the window, scanning the streets. I spotted the bike rack, and placed my eyes on the array of about 15 guns resting against it. I smiled, and looked around for walkers. There were about three by the edge of the woods, and one probably 20 feet from the rack. I checked my pocket for the knife I found in the kitchen and slowly slipped down the side of the building. Thankfully there was a plastic box full of seat cushions at the bottom so I could make my way back inside later. I did I quick 360 making sure there were no walkers that I had missed, and I was all clear. I slipped behind a few benches every so often for cover, and slowly darted across the street. The walker had no idea I was there, and so I slipped over to the rack, trying to go unnoticed.
Of course I stepped on a fallen tree branch, making it snap just loud enough for the walker to hear. It turned around and began walking over towards me, surprisingly fast. None of the other walkers had noticed, being that they were probably 75 yards away. There was now only 10 feet between the bike rack and I, and 15 between the walker and I. I began to panic, and before I could even think, I began sprinting for the guns. I whipped out my knife, and stabbed the blade through the walker's head. I was instantly caked in blood from the walker as I began to pull the blade from it's skull, and grab the guns.
The three other walkers had noticed, and began limping towards me. I scooped up all the guns, 16 in all, and noticed a bag laying on the ground below them. Without hesitating, I slung it over my shoulder and ran back towards the motel at full speed. I heard the growls of the decayed bodies as they inched closer to me.
100 yards to go until I'm back into safety. My lungs began to hurt as I came closer and closer to the building. 75 feet away. The walkers were 50 feet from me.
50 feet. 25. 15...until I finally lunged onto the cushions and began placing the guns onto the counter, trying to make as little noise as possible.
I was working on shoving the bag through the tiny window space, when I felt a tug on my leg, and snapped my head around to see a walker grabbing my leg. I shook it violently, but it wouldn't budge. The other walkers struggled to pull themselves up onto the ledge, and then I remembered that I still had the guns and the knife. I pulled the knife out of my pocket and sliced the arms off of the walker who clung to my legs, but it's hands were still grabbing my leg as the rest of the body fell onto the remaining walkers. I pried the hands off, and chucked them onto the street with a sigh. Another one began scrambling to get a grip on the edge of the container, and I lifted my leg and pounded it into it's head, bashing its skull. It fell lifelessly to the ground as the armless walker and the third walker began clawing at the sides of the container. I sighed and began shoving the bag through the window again, until it finally slipped through and landed onto the counter. I grabbed for gun closest to me, and switched the side getting ready to fire. I pointed at the third walker first, and pulled the trigger. It was a direct hit to the heart, but to my surprise, that had no effect on it. I tried again, and his time I aimed for its head. It went right through its skull as it lumped to the ground. I also reset the gun and fired at the armless one, but just barely missed his head, sending the bullet into the ground about 10 feet away.
I aimed a little bit better this time, and watched as it fell to the ground. I instantly saw that shooting the walkers was probably the worst thing I could have done, because I saw more walkers emerging from the tree line.
"Oh shit," I mumbled as I climbed back through the window.
I sat down on the sill once more, and gently pushed the container a few inches away from the window so the walkers couldn't climb up, and then proceeding into the motel. I shut the window and latched it, as I panted on the counter. I slowly sat down and pushed the guns away, and examined my leg. The walkers hadn't managed to pull a chunk out of my leg, so I guess that was good. The only thing notable was the bloody scrape from the window, which I began to dab with a dishrag that was sitting on the counter. Once it was clean and dry, I turned to examine the guns, but my head stopped halfway as my breath caught it my throat.
"Was going against me really worth a bloody shin and a few guns?" Chandler questioned as I saw him leaning against the far kitchen wall with his arms crossed over his chest.