Orthodontics in the Zombie Apocalypse

8. New Friends (2/2)

The man is tall and lean with broad shoulders, dark skin, and a frown plastered to his pronounced lips. He turns a brown-eyed stare to me, and I note the five o' clock shadow on his chin and upper lip.

I creep slowly down the stairs now, eyes locked with this man. His dark hair is cropped short, almost a military buzz cut. In fact, most of his appearance and demeanor screams "soldier".

He turns the gun on me, and I stop, hands raised in surrender.

"I don't want any trouble."

Angel, who is tied up in a second chair back-to-back with Mikah's, looks pointedly ahead of herself into the portion of the kitchen that I can't see. A woman steps to my line of sight. She looks almost exactly the same as the other man, though her jaw is less square, and her figure is curvier. She has similarly broad shoulders and looks like she could bench the same weight as him, and their skin tones are the same exact shade.

She also happens to have a rifle. And it is pointed at me just the same as the man's rifle.

I glance down at the "borrowed" outfit I'm wearing. I somehow can't imagine her fitting in this without busting the seams. "Is this your house?"

"Shut up!" she orders. She might be military, too. If not, oh well. My mom always told me to listen to the person holding a gun, especially when it's pointed my way. "I'll ask the questions here."

I wait. Eventually my arms lower and my foot begins to tap impatiently. "Are you going to ask soon? I can only answer questions after you say them out loud."

"Don't you sass me!"

The man takes a threatening step towards my position on the third stair up. Instinctively, I jump up to the next one, but the woman adjusts her gun loudly and says, with the iron-clad sternness of a mom, "Don't."

"Go on, then, shoot her," Angel pipes up.

"Hey!" I exclaim, turning a sharp glare her way. I know we don't really like each other, but I didn't realize she wanted me dead as much as I want her dead!

The others look at her as well, all of them sharing a perplexed look, though Mikah's is a bit strained from the way he has to crane his neck.

"No, seriously. Shoot her. Shoot us, too, while you're at it. Waste your ammo on humans and draw the zombies to you at the same time. I think it's a perfect plan." She shakes her head at them, eyebrows knit and lips pressed together like a disappointed parent. "You have a seven year-old, a teenager, and a young adult here, pointing guns at us. Are you really going to kill us rather than help us?"

The woman lowers her gun. "No." She nods to somewhere behind her, and says, "Have a seat." Looking at the man I assume to be her brother, she says, "Untie them."

I find that she was referring to the kitchen table and lower myself into one of the two remaining chairs, eyes never leaving the woman as I cross in front of her slowly. She takes a couple steps back as I pass, maintaining some space between us.

"My name is Shaniya," the woman begins, leaning against the granite countertop. "This is my brother Sean. We've been camped here for about a week and a half now. We haven't seen normal people since the outbreak. Zombies have terrorized us, and even the survivors have gone rampant. Everybody is freaking out  There was an old man a couple hours ago screaming up and down the street that he'd been infected, and ended up banging on the front door, leading a half dozen zombies here."

"Did you let him in?" I ask.

"No way!" Shaniya says, and I realize how much I like her voice. It's deep for a woman, but her vocal range is immense, and it's strong; it resonates like the notes of a singing mountain goat. "I'm not going to risk it after he's shouting about being infected! Besides, even if he wasn't, he was far too crazy to trust."

Finally. Logic that makes sense.

Angel turns pink and looks quieted--not that she had been saying much since we all sat down together--as if she realized something she didn't want to share. Something shameful.

Not that I care. So I move on. "We'll be out of here soon. We just needed clothes and provisions before moving on to find his uncle to take off my braces."

"Well, have fun with that..."

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A/N

Well, this story is shaping up to have as much of a plot as I have patience for braces-related cuts on my inner-lips! Sorry if this chapter was a bit boring. Sometimes you need to get through the dry bits before you find the oasis, and it all works to make such a haven so much more exciting.

Until (hopefully) next week!

Also, remember to hit that star if you like what you read and comment what you think!