Craig of the Dead

15. The Zombie-Slashing Kitchen Knife

CRACK!

Another zombie fell at Craig's feet, spewing blood and green ooze and god knows what else. He nonchalantly wiped the gore off the end of his bat, flipped off the unmoving corpse, and continued walking, unaffected by the encounter at all. I looked down my little "dagger", a simple kitchen knife I had snatched before we left. I hadn't even practiced wielding it that much. It had seemed so cool when I first had grabbed it. Everything had seemed much cooler at the base, I had been so prepared, the ultimate zombie slayer. Or so I thought. Now, surrounded by all of these apocalypse-ready people, I couldn't help but feel a smidge embarrassed. Hell, even Butters was skilled with his pistol. Right now, I was the most pathetic member of the group. I made a silent vow to myself that, whatever zombie would come at me next, I was taking it down fearlessly. No more hesitating, no more running away while yelling at Craig to kill it.

"I think it's stupid." Token said. "I mean, why in the world would they keep us in here? It makes no sense!"

"Maybe it's a thing where only kids can get it. Like, the adults can't for some reason, so they keep us in here to make sure we don't spread it. At least until they figure out a cure, I guess." Craig marched forward, glancing every once in a while at Token's map. We were almost there, just a few more turns and blocks and we would be at the old school buildings, and what would happen then? Craig might find Tweek and Token might find Nicole. Butters and Karen had been hanging out for a while, and of course Stan and Kyle were gonna stick together. Shelly, well, she seemed content by herself, and even if she was going to hang out with one of us "turds", it sure wouldn't be me. I sighed. I was going to be left alone amongst my friends. The ultimate third wheel was more like it.

"What do you think Clyde?"

"What?" I shook myself from my thoughts. Thinking too much by yourself wasn't healthy, it made you into a Tweek or something, but I didn't have ADD, or parents that had made me codependent on coffee, so not like Tweek. But the general idea, I guess.

"Earth to Clyde." Token waved his hand in front of my face, snapping a couple of times. I blinked at the sudden movement.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"What's up? Look, Clyde, if you don't wanna be in the conversation you don't have to. You can just think a bit by yourself if you want." Token said.

"No! I wanna be in the conversation! Just, maybe, repeat the question."

"goddamnit, Clyde, this is the third time! Okay, fine. Why do you think they only took the adults?" Craig rubbed his eyes, so obviously done with me. Everybody was always done with me, why did they bother to keep me around?

"I dunno. Your answer seemed pretty reasonable."

"Yeah, I guess so. It's just— Damn! Do you guys see that!" Craig gasped pointed down the road. Although it had become a little foggy since we had woken up this morning, but I could still make out the definite shape of a walker heading our way, moaning and groaning.

"What about it? It's just a...." I made the mistake of looking again, this time seeing at least thirty more zombies emerge from the mist. "Holy crap." I breathed, my knees going weak and my stomach beginning to churn.

"Dude, we are totally screwed. We're gonna fucking die here. It was nice knowing ya." Stan said, but getting his shotgun into position as he did. All of the guys were getting ready. Karen set her little bow, Butters aimed his pistol, Token gripped his spear, and Shelly held up her fireplace poker. I could hear Kyle from behind me start up his chainsaw, the motor whirring and adding to the suspense.

I bared my knife as best I could, trying desperately to recall what little combat training I had taken. I really just went because Craig asked me to. He always tries to act all strong, but he was in the same boat as the rest of us. As he heaved up his already goo-coated bat, I could see a twinge of fear in his eyes. He quickly replaced it with sheer determination before anyone else could notice his uncertainty.

"Is there any way around?" Token asked, nudging Craig.

"I think we should just go straight through. Only focus on getting out of the hoard, not on how many zombies you kill. I feel like if we tried taking another way, we would just end up cornered in an alley while the zombies closed in on us."

"Enough stalling, let's do this. I've got a lot energy, guys, and I need to take it out on something." Kyle shouted over the grinding of his chainsaw.

"Okay, on the count of three. Three." I said, attempting to put on a brave face. In reality, the undead people shuffling towards us made me to shit my pants and cry. However, keeping my vow in mind, I growled at the approaching enemy and gripped the handle of my knife.

"Two." Token nodded at Craig, who had taken on a crazy fire in his eyes. Suddenly, I realized what this was for him. These zombies weren't just any enemy, they were also the only thing standing between him and Tweek. Craig was gonna mash those walkers into complete paste, and probably have fun while doing it. He wasn't sacred for himself, he was scared for us, the people he felt a need to protect. This was, of course, kinda bad. What if Tweek happened to not be at the school? It had all been speculation, but try telling Craig that. If we got there and there was no Tweek, Craig would lose his mind. Craig was the one who had a lot of nervous energy built up, not Kyle.

"One." And with that, we all shouted like maniacs and charged the hoard. I swung my blade wildly, focusing only on getting to the other side. I was actually doing pretty well, having zombies fall left and right after they were caught in my slashing zone. After a while I just let my body take over, ignoring my fears and everything else. No one else was making anything more than grunts and shouts while they killed their way through, but Craig was full out roaring, taking out four zombies at a time.

All was going well. I wasn't completely failing at something for once, I was being brave. I was being strong. I was succeeding.

That was, until I felt a rotting jaw latch onto my shoulder.