- • Broken Children • -

three

DELILAH

I was giving the horses some food when my dad called me inside. It's just me and him on this giant Virginia farm of ours. I don't know how we do it. I don't know how we're are still able to take care of everything on this land. But somehow we do it.

I finished what I was doing and took off my black boots before heading inside. My dad was sitting on the couch with a pale face. I was about to ask him what was wrong, when I turned towards the TV.

WARNING. This is not a drill. The United States is under attack by the undead. People who died or who are dying are coming back to life...

I zoned out the rest. Was this a joke? But then I saw the look on my dad's face. And then I realized that this was no joke.

I hurried over to take a seat next to him. But no one spoke. We just watched the videos of the undead people roaming the streets of New York City, Los Angeles, and other cities.

"What...?" I asked, my mouth ajar. "What are we going to do?"

"We stay here. Our house is miles away from anyone else. We have food and supplies here. We'll be okay. We have a better chance here than anywhere else," my father stated and stood up. "We need to take stock. But mostly, we go on with our lives." Then he walked outside.

I was a mixture of anger and stressed and worried. I was angry at the fact this is how I'd have to live my life for who knows how long. I was stressed that there were FREAKING ZOMBIES running around in real life. And I was worried for my friends. Everyone I had grown up and shared my life with. Are they okay? Are they alive? Do they know this is happening?

I reached for phone and dialed my friend's number. It rang a few times before she picked up.

"Jamey!" I practically yelled. "Did you hear?" I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yes! Are you okay?" I could hear the worry and relief in her voice.

I suddenly began to feel all giddy. I was so happy she was alive and okay. "I'm fine. You should come to my house. We have a big land and plenty of food for others." I didn't want to ask my dad. I know he'd be hesitant about it. But Jamey is my sister. I would do anything for her.

"That would be great. The neighborhoods are sketchy to be in right now. I'll call you once we decide. I have to go," she hung up before I even got the chance to reply. I sighed.

I needed to do something. I didn't want to just sit here. I retrieved my bow and arrow from a small shed behind the house and went over to where I set up my wooden target onto a tree. I backed up several feet and sewed my arm brace on. I pulled my shoulder-length brunette hair into a pony tail. I slung my pack of arrows on my back and readied my bow. I pulled back my arm and, without much effort, I let go and hit a bull's eye. I smiled slightly to myself.

I was out there for about half an hour before I heard a car pull up into the gravel drive way in the front of the house. I lowered my bow, confused. Is it Jamey? I thought she'd call. I went towards the side of the house and peered from behind a bush. My gut sunk. Three men climbed out of a giant black truck. And they had shot guns. I ducked lower and subconsciously prepared my bow. One guy stayed outside while the other two busted down the front door.

I started to panic. My dad was inside. At least, I think he was. I spotted my father's old blue Chevrolet truck parked. It would be an easy escape. But I couldn't leave my dad. Also, the keys were still inside.

I rounded back to the kitchen door. I opened it ever so slowly and creeped inside. I scanned the area and saw the keys resting innocently on the counter. I was just about to grab them when one of the men walked into the living room doorway. I ducked down. A few seconds later the other guy pulled a familiar body into the room. It was my dad. Every instinct of mine told me to leap in front of him. But could my bow do enough to stop them from shooting my dad? Their shotguns were pointed straight at him.

"Are you alone?" The taller man asked in a demanding gruffy tone.

My father nodded weakly. "Yes. My wife and kids are at church. You have to believe me." I could hear the desperation in his voice. I had to do something. But what? Distract them? Shoot them? Maybe I could-

The man pressed the barrel to the side of my father's head. I almost cried out, but I swallowed my tears. "You better be telling the truth." I forced my hand up to grab the keys. But I didn't see the apple next to it. I hit it just barely, but it was enough to roll down the counter and onto the floor. I locked eyes with my dad. I already knew what was going to happen. But I didn't want it to.

He mouthed, "Run." to me. And had no choice. They were going to kill me next if I didn't leave now. I forced my legs to move. I forced them to carry me out the door and to my dad's truck. My vision blurred. But I didn't let that stop me. I shot the guy in the front in the thy with my bow. I kicked his gun away from him and grabbed it. I pulled my arrow out of his skin with no remorse. He wailed in pain. But I didn't care. I stared at him coldly, unable to move.

But then I heard a gunshot from inside.

I regained my senses and hurried into the truck. I started the engine and pulled the car out. Just as I rode down the straight road, I looked back once more in the rearview mirror. The two men from inside had ran out to help their friend. And one was covered in blood.

Oof
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