Insanity - c.g

Days Gone Bye (II)

With a creak from the door, we all slowly and quietly step outside.

"Now," Rick starts making his way down the stairs, "you're sure they're dead? I just have to ask at least one more time..."

"They dead," Morgan answered, "Except for somethin' in the brain. That's why it's always gotta be the head."

Morgan, Duane and I follow Rick, bat in his hand, over towards the body of a man laying on the ground. With groans and moans, the somewhat lifeless man climbs his way to his feet. Rick runs at the man and slams the wooden bat into the side of the dead man's head. He continuously beats down until he's on the ground, not showing any sign of getting back up. 

"You alright?" Morgan questioned concerned.

"Need a moment," Rick replies.

Once Rick had his moment, we headed over to his house and back through the open door.

"They're still alive," Rick says, "My wife and son. At least they were when they left."

"How can you know?" Morgan asks, "By the look of this place, they-"

"I found empty drawers in the bedroom, they packed some clothes, not a lot but enough to travel."

"You do know that anybody could've broken in here and stolen the clothes, right?"

"You see the framed photos hanging up on the walls," Rick pointed up to the bare walls, "Neither do I. Some random thief took our family photos? The photo albums, family pictures- all gone."

Morgan starts silently chuckling, "Photo albums... My wife- same thing. Here I am packing some survival gear and she's packing photo alb-" Morgan stops himself from saying anything more.

"They're in Atlanta, I bet," Duane speaks up.

"That's right."

"Why there?"

"The refugee centre. Huge one they said. Before the broadcasts stopped. Military protection, food, shelter. They told people to go there, they said it was safest."

"Plus they got that disease place."

"The Centre for Disease Control, said they were working out how to solve all of this."

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Rick unlocks the door to the police station, with a bright flashlight to guide us through, we walk the hallways until we reach the showers. Stepping up to a cubicle, Rick turns one of the taps. The groans of the pipe are followed by streams of water spitting out.

"Gas lines have been down for about a month now," Morgan informs.

"The station's got its own propane system," Rick puts his hand under the running water, "Still runnin'."

The father and son smile to each other, more than happily they hop into a cubicle and get undressed, ready for a long awaited shower. Slowly, I take off the flannel shirt and fold nicely on the seat. I didn't want to undress in front of others but my Aunt Areum always told me that I need to properly take care of my clothes seeing as though it was something so simple to do. I had no other clothes and I didn't want these ones Duane gave me to get all wet and dirty on the ground. Nervously, I start to lift my white shirt, pulling it over my head. I look down at my small, skinny body, my time spent unconscious clearly wasn't enough time to heal my uncle's doings.

"What's all of this?" Rick asks, placing his hand on my battered skin, "Something tells me it wasn't a rough football game..."

I shook my head with a silent giggle, I guess I should've just kept my mouth shut, "It's nothing," I say quietly, probably the second time I've spoken to the man.