The brave can be scared, the leader can fall. At times, the weak, can be strong, and the fallen can be saved.
•Joey's Perspective•
I see Howie run to the other door, his head down, he seems panicked. "Howie! Are you okay?"
"I've cut my arm, and it hurts like hell!" He shows me his arm, a long and deep gash, I can see the tissue.
"We've got to barricade the doors first, so we don't die. Now." We hurry to barricade both doors well. "Ok, now let me see your arm." I hold his arm, he's losing a lot of blood, "How'd you manage this?"
"I-I think I cut my arm trying to barricade the doors." He looks at me, his eyes more glassy than usual. "Here's the bag." He hands me the bag so I can wrap the wound, "I'll help you wrap it."
He looks at his arm, "Is it- Does it feel okay?" He nods his head. "Now, how do we get the hell out of here?"
"Zombies are attracted to our smell right? So what if we use that zombie," he points in the direction of the zombie, "and cover out scent with its scent?" I look down to think. It might work, but how would we know for sure? "I mean, worst case scenario we die a painful death." He lets out a slight but forced chuckle.
"Let's do it." I walk towards the zombie, praying and hoping that this works.
YOU ARE READING
Being a Part of the Few
Horreur"The year is 2035, humans have a hard time adjusting to the zombie apocalypse and the plagues. Very few are left alive that I know of, so if you hear this, find me, however wherever. You know the station I'm on, I'll always be on this station."- Joe...
