Slay the Dead (Zombie Apocalypse)

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Samantha

            The annoying bleep of the retro alarm clock sounded at 6 o’clock sharp. My body slid from underneath the thin blanket practically in a hypnosis-induced state. Starting up the morning exercises I half expect to be interrupted, until I realize with disgust the people I took in are still lazing in bed.

When I’m finally done with all my morning routines, it’s 8:30 a.m. and I’m in the kitchen with the stove on. The smell of cooking bacon fills the room with a thick aroma. All the perishables would need to eaten first, which meant that these would be the last of good meals we would have.

Surprisingly enough, I saw Ethan walk through the kitchen door wearing nothing but sweat pants. He had a case of extreme bed head, and he was rather skinny, but at least not scrawny. I couldn’t help but chuckle when I saw him.

He jumped as if the world had ended with that noise. “What?” He said peering at me like I had gone crazy.

“Nothing, just thinking that now we’re even.” A slight smirk twisted my lips teasingly while he looked down. His face turned red before looking back at me stubbornly and sitting down. Setting a plate of food in front of him, I took some of Mike’s portion sliding it on his plate. Partly because I simply didn’t like him, and partly because Ethan would need to beef up if he wanted to have a chance of surviving.

“So… I never figured you’d be the cooking kind?” His questioning tones made sharp pain flash behind my eye. He needed to be assertive, but at lest he could stand his own when it mattered.

“I’m not actually, cooking is just an essential point of survival, and so you know.” Ethan ran a hand through tangled hair before muttering something unintelligible to his fork.

The rest of our meal was held in silence that didn’t seem awkward; we were both accustomed to being silent. After gathering our plates and setting to the dishes, excluding the three plates still full, Ethan seems to produce his sketchpad from out of thin air.

Through the reflection of a spoon I can almost swear he was staring at me, or maybe through me? I spun around sharply to yell at him for staring, when Nia stumbled in trailed by two ‘puppies’. 

“Wow! Thanks for the food Sammie!” Her smile was dazzling enough that I only grunted in response, she was a good girl, useless, but the person to keep everyone sane. Letting out a disgruntled huff I blew that stray strand of hair from my face.

“Okay so we need talk about what’s happening outside.” A collective shudder fluttered through the room, but no one tried to avoid the obvious problem.

“This morning I did some calculations… we can only have ten or eleven people in the house at once, and I don’t think it should be family.” The bite of nails against skin felt like a small relief when I heard the end of my sentence.

“What the hell do you mean?” Mikes voice carried over to my ears, but it still took a few seconds to respond. Rubbing an eye with my palm my face scrunched together in pain. Another second rearranges the cold features I so prized; hopefully no one noticed that it wasn’t just the blatant dislike for the ‘puppy’.

“The older you get the more set you are in your ways, besides they already lived their lives, others haven’t… and that includes my own father as well.” If there was something to stare at instead of a pig red face, I would have, but there wasn’t so I continued the cold glare.

“I can’t say I know any parent that would want to have us risk our lives for them, my mother always said she would give every life to keep me safe.” Jake quipped just in time to stop the house from exploding in an argument that would likely force them out.

“Good! Now that that’s settled we have to talk about general survival, which means we need supplies.” Glancing around the small room they shrunk back with the implications. Looting would be a large problem immediately, which meant that we would have to get to it just like all the other people.

“I’ll need a volunteer to help me go out for a scouting mission… anyone?” The group swallowed all at once looking at me like I was insane.

“You have to be able to contribute, all we’re doing is heading to a gas station to collect all the fuel that won’t be available in a months time!” The frustration of practically being a caregiver seemed to explode in the form of the screaming sentence.

They all stared at me slack jawed with the surprise of my seemingly pre-expressed anger. Ethan was the first to react, however in a way the infuriated me more. Holding out his hands in the universal signal of peace mixed with fear. Why were people afraid of everything!

Nia jumped from her chair immediately, swatting his arms down, and engulfing me in a painful hug. I let loose a growl of irritation, making her only squeeze tighter. Feeling each muscle loosen to keep from being crushed into oblivion.

I had to admit though; the anger had dissipated to simple annoyance. She simply had a way about her that could calm people. Sliding the heel of my palm again to my eye, I let out a grunt.

“People annoy me, Ethan lets just imagined you volunteered, so lets get to it.”