Don't Be Scared

S.1 E.6 ~ RZ (Ch. 33)

Anyone remember what happens in this episode?

--

Charlie stood at the passenger window, speaking with Warren while everyone else stayed in the protection of the truck.

"One-thousand-five-hundred-and-fifty-four." 10K muttered to himself so he'd remember the number.

Slowly, I stood up beside the aiming teenager. He's got to be at least my age, or even a little bit older. The guy doesn't have any gray, rotting teeth, nor wrinkles. No, it's the exact opposite of it.

He's got midnight hair with no twinkling stars, perfectly straight teeth with none missing, and, I bet, baby soft skin. Pushing the judgement away, I looked ahead of the truck's hood.

'SURRENDER ALL WEAPONS' was wrote in large, bold red letters on what once was a railroad warning sign.

"Stop right there! This is a private compound. I'm gonna have to ask you to turn around and go back the way you came."

Out of the corner of my eye, I observed 10K refocus his sniper on the tall, brunette woman that stood in front of her friends with a gun of her own pointed at us. Three men stood behind her, including their own automatics.

"I'm looking for Major Williams, Joe Williams." Charlie informed them of the stranger that he wanted to see as he stepped away from the side of the parked vehicle.

His thick biceps were raised in the air with his wrists above his head. He trusts these people not to do the wrong thing here; shooting a stranger that was being compliant.

"And who are you?" The lady asked, sass covering every inch of those words.

Someone doesn't want their man to be found, huh?

"I'm Charles Garnett, Georgia National Guard. We've known each other going back Pre-Z."

The Second-in-Command woman hesitated before lowering her deadly object, but the men behind her refused to let go, "Wait there. Your crew stays in the truck."

10K lowered his gun at the next part of her sentence.

"They try to move or we see a weapon, we'll fire."

"Well, holy shit. It's the ghost of Charlie Garnett." A thriving voice resonated from behind the fence after a few minutes of us patiently waiting for whoever Charlie wanted to see.

In a minute, he was out and around the protection and headed towards our leader. Still, his people kept their guard up.

"Never expected to see you again. At least not alive."

Charlie lowered his hands to greet the Major, "Hey, Joe. Didn't expect to see you again, either."

Joe released Charlie's hand from their manly, iron handshake. Why do men shake their hands so harshly? Is it, like, a sign of dominance?

"Looks like we're both still standing."

"Looks like."

The two ignored the fact that we have the savior of humanity in the back seat of this truck and the dead was rising from their graves as they just started to reminisce the past. Just like two grandfathers would do when they were admitted to the nursing home.

Sweet like candy, huh? I guess it is rare to see an old friend during this period.

"Last time I saw you, you were pulling my ass out of a ditch full of Zs."

"Just returning the favor." My father-figure was modest.

That's for sure. Charlie looked proudly at the man, seeing as he did save his life, but still found a lace of nobility.

"How many Zs we kill that day?" Joe asked, placing his hands on his non-existing hips.

"Not enough. Do you mind?" Charlie, finally, nudged behind Joe towards his--still--armed people.

Even though they were recalling past events as best friends, Joe's people didn't seem to have a change of heart towards our arrival.

"Stand down." The leader ordered and they obeyed like good pups, "You're the first person I've seen from before. How the hell you end up here?"

"I'm actually on a mission for the government, if you can believe that."

I leaned my elbow on the black roof, leaning my head on the open palm. Ladies gossiping before us appear to be staying in their own world as they looked off into the distance.

"If it was anybody, but you, I wouldn't."

"We've come from New York. Haven't eaten in a few days." Our leader explained our situation and condition.

Which wasn't strong or good.

"New York? Haven't seen anyone east of Mississippi for over a year. How many of you are there?"

"Nine. Including a doctor."

'Doctor' always got people to help us; no matter the status. The need for medical assistance is in a pull nowadays, since, you know, dead are rising from their beds. Everyone wants a solution to this, hopefully, temporary problem.

"Real doctor?" The guy sounded unsure of his words, like second guessing Charlie was a bad move.

"Sort of. He's watched a lot of ER."

Joe shook his head with a smile, "Alright. Come inside and tell me your story. We'll get you some food, but the truck stays outside."

The bald white man turned around on his heels to speak to his people, "Let them in."

The baldy turned around again to face Charlie, "And, of course, you'll have to check in your weapons."

Charlie turned his back to the old man, telling us to come with him. With the help of Mack, I hopped off of the ledge and reached the pavement with bent legs. I straightened my back to walk behind Warren.

The rest of my people were behind me. Charlie was the first to extract his weapons from the weaponry belt, then Warren. Her machete, two pistols, and a blood stained brass knuckles. Next was me.

I handed over the fully loaded shotgun, the rest of it's shells, my pocket knife, and a knife I had hidden in my boot. The woman who spoke to us first scanned me down with a metal detector before clearing me in.

"Don't go far." Mack ordered from behind me.

Ignoring him but taking his words to heart, I just wondered over to where Charlie and Joe were standing. They were steadily talking about the past and the present; they switched between the two.

"And who might this little kid be?"

Jeez, he makes me sound like I'm 10-years-old.

"The name's (Y/N) Thompson. Baby girl to David and Maci Thompson. Kid sister to Mack Thompson."

I pointed behind me at the boy, who was currently unloading himself.

"Nice to meet you, Thompson. My name is Major Joe Williams, but you can call me Joe." Major Williams stuck his hand out for me to shake.

I looked up at Charlie for his approval before even thinking about touching the stranger's hand. Once everyone was unloaded and checked in, Joe was about to take us inside when three teenagers called out his name.

As if we all had the same name, we turned around to look at who called him. They seemed to be in distress, but in good health. In the apocalypse? A tall, white male with a slight buzz cut; the hair on the sides were shaved off but he had a slight puff at the top.

Next to him was a smaller Asian-looking white male with a short brunette beside him. She was carrying a basket full of fruit while the others were carrying guilty eyes. Something isn't right about them.

\\ Someone doesn't want their man to be found, huh? //