Chapter 2

11 0 0
                                    

Jackson and his father set out from the house and take a shortcut through a local reserve to the main road. Jackson stops to sight out a slightly bloody and out of touch older man with a flannel jacket, ripped cargo jeans, holding a blade strapped onto a vent pipe.

Jackson approaches the worn down wolf. "Sir, are you alright?"

"DON'T... come closer!" Shouts the man, while tripping over his own words.

Jackson walks back from the torn up man, bumping into his dads chest.

Jackson's father intervenes between his son and the pipe wielding man. "What in the hell happened here?"

"Sorry... one of those "things" attacked me from the side of my car and almost smashed the window, I apologise for my aggressive behaviour." The man calmly stumbles out of his crooked mouth.

"So what's with the pipe?" Jackson asks curiously.

"I made it from a metal pipe I had in my garage and a blade I found under my workbench. luckily, me and my son, Matthew, made it out the house in time for the outbreak." The flannelled man huffs out.

A scared boy with the same ragged attire and stressed expression as his father, around 19, steps out of the dusty and dented 4x4.

"I'm Dean by the way, me and my son drove to the city for supplies after we heard about the outbreak on the news. We decided to keep his little brother and mum at home just to stay safe; we have a safe place." Jackson and his dad could still hear quite a lot of stutters in Dean's voice. Either it was anxiety, or some kind of disorder.

Jackson's dad replies. "I don't know if I wanna give you my name yet; are you from Yurkham plains or-"
"There's no time for interrogation, both of you, in the car quick!" Dean shouted in a haste.

Well, there was no time to waste considering an apocalypse was happening right in front of our eyes. Jackson and Graham climbed up the truck railing and into the back. Jackson thought the truck was a limousine; it was that huge!

Death Under The FurWhere stories live. Discover now