Daybreak

Cody

Pa always said to me: if you're smart enough, you'll fight like a champion. Champion? Some champion he was. Guess he wasn't thinking of Z's. I heard their cries, growls, moans drowning my double-wide trailer. Maybe he should've taken the advice he'd given me.

    That old fool didn't last very long. It was a horde; broke through the sliding glass door when they heard us watching the tele. No time to dawdle. Zombies, house. I sat on the floor of my Pa's bedroom, back against the door. I needed to search for his hunting rifle... but if the Z's hear me, they'll bust down the damn door.

    I took a deep breath of courage. If they can't see me, they don't know I'm here. The door's closed; they can't hear you. Even worse, they're probably feasting on Pa... No, maybe that's better. They'll be too busy munching to notice any shuffling.

God, I hope Ma's alright. Hopefully no one at her workplace turned. Unlikely. No one knew this was coming; she'd probably 'ssumed they were just ill customers and needed help. Coworkers probably thought that too. It always seems like when a person sees a Z, they don't ever consider it to be that.

Alright, time is nigh. I shifted into a crawling position. I crept towards Pa's bed. They really couldn't hear me? Their hearing is like a cat's, but humans are smarter and can hide easily. I looked into the darkness under Pa's bed. Flashlight? I studied the floor. And lo and behold, there was one. I reached for it and flicked it on.

Gun... gun... Gun! Pa's rifle was there. Even some ammo. How lucky. I slid halfway underneath and pulled it towards me. I pushed it behind me and reached for the ammo. There wasn't a lot. Pa was supposed to get more today. Guess I'll be conserving. Though, he did keep a knife under his pillow, just in case. I'll bet it's still there.  I slowly rose to my feet, mindful of noise I could make. I lightly stepped towards the head of the bed and lifted the bottom pillow. Guess I'm finally getting lucky. It was long. Shit, I forgot he had a machete here.

    I picked it up and slide it face down into a pocket in my backpack I took with me when I hid. I bent down and lifted Pa's hunting rifle I kept on the floor temporarily. I reloaded it then slid it into the opposite pocket of the machete. The other cartridge went into the very front pocket. Wish the damn thing had a scope. Unfortunately for me now, my pa's aim was near perfect, so he didn't see a need in getting one.

    I have the weapons. Now I need to kill what I was getting them for. Easier said than done. The only thing I've shot is deer. And deer don't try to rip your face off with their teeth. I sighed. Hopefully some of the fuckers would've moved on already with the lack of prey in the trailer. But there's always lingerers. I took out the glorious blade on the right side of my pack. I took a deep breath and opened the door a crack. I peered out to the living room and into the kitchen. Fuck. My pa. He's a fucking Z. I should've dragged him to his stupid bedroom when I ran to it.

    There were only a couple more of them aside from my zombie pa. I could take them down, but I definitely couldn't stay. I opened the door. Pa was closest. He lunged at me. I swallowed my grief and held him inches away from me. I piked him in the side of the skull with surprising ease. I stared at his dead, white eyes. Fucking idiot. You should've just left the Z's and ran.

"Fuck!" A ravenous zombie ran up from the left, tripping me up. I nabbed him in the front of the brain, blood splatter on my face. I looked frantically for the third one. He was in the kitchen stumbling towards me. "Alright, asshole. Let's dance," I mumbled.

    I swung my blade at the monster's head. It cut right through the middle; the top piece slid off the base and landed sickeningly on the fake wooden tiles. Shit. I glanced down at it and ran to the broken down glass door.  I sprinted through the trailer park. I should've at least gotten food and water. I must be as smart as Pa was today, too.

    I'm going to have to search other houses. Supplies and survivors. If I don't have Pa to help me, I'm going to need an alternative. I ran through the town, taking in the demolished scenery of dead bodies and Z's staggering about. I saw a house, front windows broken directly to a huge kitchen. Damned rich bastards. They didn't last long.

"Daddy, let me go! I know you're still in there... It-it's me," a somewhat close voice cried. High-pitched and annoying. One of those rich girls must be still in there. I sighed. My conscious wouldn't let me leave her there, nor kill her and take the food. I tried the door handle. Locked. I looped around the house to a backdoor. Luckily, there was one, which was unlocked. Guess the Z's got to the family through the front of the house. I opened it slowly and peeked into a massive living area. Pretty white carpet stained with blood and a small, skinny blonde girl in a pink dress fighting a larger man in well-kept clothes.

I pulled out Pa's hunting rifle slowly and quietly as I pushed the backdoor open just as softly. I aimed it at the chubby zombie's head. Bang! Its blood slattered on the girl. I walked in the house, shutting the door behind me. The girl looked behind her, shifting to her hands and knees, then rising to her feet. For someone who just got her life saved, she sure looks pissed. Rich people can't just be thankful?

    The girl stormed towards me and knocked me against the door. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

    I looked up at her, annoyed. She wasn't very strong. "I just saved your ass, princess," I retorted. She ripped the rifle from my grasp.

    "Give me a reason not to kill you with this."

    "Cause you don't know how to shoot a gun."

    "But you know how to kill a girl's father." She lifted the gun to my head. "Bye, stupid bitch."