Don't Be Scared

S.1 E.12 ~ ML (Ch. 89)

Highly impressive. I would never have the guts to even think about doing something so high risked like that. He has been bit over eight times and he's still willing--he rather do this than get his head blown off--to do something like this?

Even though it means there is a slight chance a Z won't welcome him. His mental health must be better than what I thought.

"What in the hell is Murphy doing down there?" Doc asked, considering the well fair of Murphy.

Doc and Warren were a few feet down the hill to study the surroundings better while Cassandra was a foot away from them. 10K and I stayed on top of the hill as look-outs. Zimmerman and the other two may not be that far away from us.

If we all just go trampling down there, it may stir the Zs up and if they stir, Zimmerman will surely catch the change in atmosphere. He's not that dumb.

"The Zs must think he's one of them. That must be why Zimmerman and the others kidnapped him, so they can get to the drugs." Warren informed us of the scenario that the three enemies had played out in their heads.

I wonder what they would've done to us if we didn't have Murphy. I visibly shivered at the negative thought. I wonder how much a Doc Steak would run on the black market. Probably a lot.

Not too tender and not too tough.

"Now, I like drugs as much as the next guy, but there ain't enough drugs in the world that's gonna make me want to be out there walkin' around with them Viagra Zs."

I don't think Murphy wants to willingly be out there. Doc shook his head in disbelief, letting out a shiver at his own horrid thought. What does Viagra even do? 10K made his way down the hill, assisting Cassandra with the descend while I walked down by myself.

"Let's go." Warren ordered, already having a plan assembled in the safety of her mind.

We all walked along the fence, staying far enough away so we don't catch any unwanted attention. We went around to the entrance of the drug enterprise slowly. If the Zs see us in any way, they'll come charging at the fence, alerting the enemies.

The Zs act like their own personal guard dogs. We all tried our best to keep sounds like sticks breaking, leaves crunching, and weight against the grass down to a minimum, but no one is quiet as a mouse.

After a few minutes of keeping quiet and checking our backs, a stentorian, eardrum-busting siren sounded off from the white building Murphy was in. The Zs beside us roared with disruption as they went far away from the fence and to the side of the building.

A tornado warning? No, this sound doesn't resemble the noise from Warren's hometown.

"Murphy must've set off an alarm for them. Come on, we've got to hurry." Warren commanded, no longer caring if the leaves crunched under her boots as she ran towards our entry.

We all broke out into a run right behind the determined leader, ducking our heads skillfully to miss the low branches on the thick trees. At the gate, no one was there protecting it from Zs or from unwanted, alive company.

They need to work on their guarding positions.

"Come on. Quiet."

Warren lifted up her left hand, curling it into the ball as she brought it to her mouth. She extended only her index finger and pressed it against her chapped lips. Yeah, we definitely want to make loud noises to get the Zs attention.

Her right hand grabbed the handle of her machete and removed it from the protection of it's holster, preparing for a fight. Whether it be used against humans or Zs. I gripped the silver metal of my brass knuckles in between my fingers and against the palm of my right hand.