Becoming Them: A Zombie Novel

Twenty-Four

     The drive back was relatively calm and quiet. Too quiet, but the quiet was something I was used to. I was used to seeing empty streets and roads, not being able to help missing the road rage, the blaring horns, the screams of frustration that you'd hear every day. I missed the random smiles I'd get on the street, the dogs I'd see, toddlers playing at playgrounds and parks, and so much more. Those were all a distant memory now.

     When we arrived back, the guards opened the gate and Joey drove through. A mass crowd of people didn't gather around us this time.

     We stepped out of the van once he had parked it near the other vehicles, and I followed him to the back. He opened the back doors and brought out the basket filled with meds, then piled the rest of the bags on top of one another. I saw the bag filled with my weapons.

     Joey seemed to have noticed me staring. "You can take those back to Lucy," he said.

     "You trust me to do that?" I asked, baffled. Wasn't he worried that I'd slip a knife into my pants or something?

     "Sure, I do," he replied before his lips curled into a smirk. "Even so, Lucy will count them all to see if they're all there."

     I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I picked up the bag and stalked off to the armoury without another word. It would be a while until I could finally take my weapons back. I didn't want to get used to the feeling without them or get too comfortable here. What if something happened and I needed them? What if all I'd learned faded from my memory and I became useless at throwing knives again?

     The tiny beige building wasn't far from the gate, so I didn't have to lug this bag around for long. When I got there, I knocked on the door, not sure if I could just go through as Joey did. Lucy appeared not too long after, beaming once she saw it was me.

     Opening the door, she said, "Come in, come in!" I would never have imagined that the person in charge of the armoury would be a sweet middle-aged woman.

     I awkwardly shuffled through the door, taking in the image of all the weapons around me again.

     "I'm guessing you've come in to turn in your weapons," she asked, gesturing at the bag.

     Nodding, I held it up in front of her and she took it.

     She lay the bag on a table, unzipped it and took a brief look. She gently took out each of the knives and placed them on the table, likely counting them all as Joey mentioned. He probably told her to do it because, of course, I couldn't be trusted just yet.

     To take my mind off my belongings being taken away, I decided to scan the shelves and walls, seeing all different kinds of guns.

     "See something you like?"

     I jumped out of my skin at her voice being so close to me, her breath practically fanning my skin.

     She only chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

     "It's okay," I said as I rubbed the back of my neck. "Um, I don't really know much about guns. Never really used one before, except one time with a rifle, but we ran into trouble back then and I had no choice."

     "Really?" She brings out my handgun and checks the magazine, then nods. "Explains why your beretta's still full. Why do you have one if you can't use it?"

     "A friend gave it to me. I never got to learn because we were low on ammo." I walked around the large room. "Do you know how to use all of these guns?"

     "Quite a few. You can learn a lot in a few years." She chuckled again.

     I picked up one of the rifles. It weighed me down quite a bit, so I hastily put it back in its place. That's when the idea finally came to me as I turned around to face Lucy.