Road To Ruin

Biters

     I wake to the sun barely peeking through the trees and an aching back. I stretch as best I can given my position and unbuckle myself from the tree, looping the belt back through my jeans. My stomach churns and growls loudly, alerting me off how hungry I actually am. I haven't had a decent meal in weeks. Sighing, I dig through my bag and find the can of soup. I might as well eat it, I'm going to need the energy to get me through today if I want to find more supplies. My Swiss army knife has a small built in spoon and I dig in. I try to eat it slowly and savor it, but I'm starving. I finish it off in minutes. I also drink about a fourth of my water, just enough to wet my mouth and throat and hold me off for a bit longer, but not enough to actually satisfy my thirst.

     I scan the ground below me and as far as I can see. It's clear of any zombies, but I'm quite aware of the gun resting on my hip and my knife in my pocket as I climb my way back down the tree. Once I'm back on the ground, I continue on in the direction I was heading in yesterday. I can't be too far from the road now.

     Even with the sun hardly risen, the temperature is already rising. It's going to be another hot day. Ohio isn't really know for terribly hot weather, but it's so humid that it's almost suffocating. 90°F here is as bad as 120°F in a place like California.

     I walk at a steady pace, trying to be as quiet as possible so I can listen for an sign of zombies. I guess it's kind of cliché calling them zombies, but I haven't thought of a better name for them yet. And really, they are virtually the same as the zombies we all watched in horror movies. And it's not like I've had anyone to talk about it with. It's been so long since I've actually spoken anything out loud to another person. Sometimes I worry I'll forget how to speak. Being on my own has it's benefits, I mean I've only got myself to worry about and the less strings attached to places and people, the better. But it kind of sucks. I've got no one to talk to about anything. I write everything down just so I don't go mad out here by myself. And it would be really reassuring to know someone had my back when I needed to do something. But I'm probably better off this way. People die now. I watched my own family get ripped apart right in front of me and I couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. I'm not sure I can do it again. 

     The sound of a snapping twig brings me back to reality. I whip my head in the direction of the sound, knife already in hand and duck behind a tree. Shit. More twigs snap and I hear the groaning before I'm able to see it. Before I can think about what I'm doing, I'm marching straight at it. I bring my knife down hard and fast, straight through the skull. I don't even flinch. He was just an average looking, middle-aged  man before all of this. Now this, this thing has rotting and missing flesh and blood shot eyes and bared teeth. Some are more agile than others and they run, but most are slow and clumsy. They hobble along aimlessly until they find a person to sink their teeth into. My usual rule is always take out individual ones, but never attack a group larger than 3 unless it's completely necessary. And so far I've kept myself alive.

     Truthfully, I haven't killed a ton of zombies. Maybe 20 or so. I've always kept to the outskirts of towns or the woods, never  pushing too far in so I've avoided the worst of them. But I know this next scavenge I'm going to need to go in. I've got to stock up on resources and they're hard to come by. Most of the houses have already been looted, their remaining valuable resources, stolen.

     I continue on my way for a short while until finally I see an opening in the trees ahead. A road. I almost leap for joy. I was beginning to worry I was never going to find my way out of these woods. I hop over the metal guard rail and scan the area. It's definitely a main road, but I don't see any signs to tell me where I'm actually at. It seems safe enough so I stop to take a break and get another drink of water and snack on some of the beef jerky. It's probably about noon now, the sun is straight over head and hot enough to cook an egg on the road.

     A few miles up ahead I come across a sign for a town called Alverton. This goes against my usual procedure but I'm running out of options. I decide my best bet is stealth. I'm not strong enough to take on a large group of zombies by myself with only a pocket knife and a gun draws too much attention. They're attracted to the noise, it riles them up making my gun something I use only if it's completely necessary.

     As I enter the town I see a few... biters. That seems like an appropriate name to give them. There's maybe 20 of them up the street I'm on and another 15 scattered on the street beside it. Much more than I'd like, but if I can sneak around them I should be okay. Up the road I can see a pretty big convenience store, but the biters are in my direct line of path to get there. There's a few restaurants and houses lining the streets along with a run down gas station, but other than that, the town doesn't have much going for it. It's a big risk to try to make my way to the store just to find it might already be raided of it's supplies, but I'm desperate.

     I wipe sweat from my forehead and gather myself. I touch the gun on my hip for reassurance and quietly bolt to the right side of the street, to the back yard of a small white house. The sound of the biters gets louder and closer and I make my way up the street, pushing towards the store. I'm in the heart of it all now. One wrong move or sound could set them all off and I'll be dead. I weave around another house and tip toe across the porch. I cringe as the wooden deck creeks under my feet. One of them turns in my direction and groans, starting to walk my way. I'm only halfway to the store.

     I take a deep breath and hop down, walking faster than before. I don't have time to try to take it out and I'd risk drawing more attention to myself. It's still heading my way though and it's a fast son of a bitch.

     3/4 of the way there.

     I can make it.

     Almost there.

     Oh screw this. I break into a sprint, abandoning my stealth method, and bolt straight for the front door. By this point a good 6 biters are heading my way. I take the closest one down with a knife through the eye before I manage to get inside and get the doors closed. I scan the store, on guard. The doors rattle behind me but they're locked pretty securely with a chain so I'm not too worried.  A lot of the shelves are relatively still intact. They're not completely unscathed, but I can manage.

     I find the water first and grab as many bottles as possible. What would really be helpful would be finding some iodine tablets to purify water along the way, but this store doesn't carry any. I also decide now's probably the best time to hydrate myself and down two bottles of the water. Next, food. A couple cans of some soup, beans, vegetables, anything that looks appetizing. A sleeve of crackers, a couple protein bars, and some nuts. Things that won't spoil.

     I make make my way to the other side of the store, just scanning the isles for anything I might need or want. I come across a mirror and stop for a moment, examining my face. It's been awhile since I've genuinely looked at myself. My once silky, wavy blonde hair is matted and dirty, hanging in tangles around my face. My tan skin is dirty and I wipe at it for a minute, but it doesn't even make a difference. My full lips are chapped and I make a mental note to grab some chapstick. My cheek bones are much more prominent now given the lack of food and I've got dark circles under my eyes from lack of good sleep. But my eyes are still the same blue, the color of the ocean. Just then, something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. In a split second I've spun around, gun raised.

     It's a man.