A Far Leap Into the Fog: short story

Pg 2

My lips press thin as I briefly look down to the ground, but when I lift my gaze I find a Hunter. He was decked out like any other Hunter. He was wearing all black as he wore lazy jeans and a button up shirt as he wore an oversized sweater and a beanie adorned his head hiding his dirty blonde hair ineffectively. His eyes are a steely blue as his facial features were soft, yet harsh and he was covered in weapons. He had a thigh holster that held both a gun and knife and as he also wore a bow and arrow.

I slowly come to a stop as I watch the Hunter look through the open doors and kicking open the unopened ones as he holds his shotgun and I clench my hands. I know everyone had just evacuated the building, but he was disrespecting their homes. The lives they built.

With fury in my chest and my mission long forgotten I march up to the Hunter and I punch him in the face. He doesn't move an inch as he gives me a harsh stare and I return my own.

"Watch it kid, or I might be shooting teenagers instead of zombies."

I scoff at his bluntness as I try to push him to the side, but he wasn't moving. I huff and I try again to move him, but he wasn't bulging at all. I threw my hands up in separation before walking off to my apartment and I could hear the Hunter following me. I turn around and I smack the shotgun he has pointing at me.

"Tell me where you're going."

I roll my eyes as I turn back around and I continue my march to my apartment. I knew one thing about these Hunters and that was that they came from the Americas, specifically North America. If there was anything I knew about North America it was that they were rude, persistent bastards. They couldn't and wouldn't take a, 'No' as an answer and they are constantly disrespectful. It made me feel like we had failed as a society with how North Americans act.

"Скажи мне, куда ты собираешься!"

I momentarily stop in my tracks as the Hunter barks at me and roll my eyes before continuing to walk to my artpen. When I finally reach the room I quickly go inside and slam the door behind me as I lock it behind me as I could hear the Hunter trying to ram the door open. Thankfully, I had reinforced it last week. I hurriedly walked around the room to find something heavy to put in front of the door, but my non luxurious lifestyle was showing. There was a makeshift bed on the floor with a few board games that the neighbors had lent to my siblings and I in the years we knew them and there were the bare essentials to go to school. There were even clothes scattered about because we didn't own any wardrobes and our small baskets were full with dirty laundry. I pace the room for any ideas of how to use any of this stuff, but nothing was coming to mind so I raced my way to the singular window of the apartment. It hasn't worked in years, but maybe it would, just like those movies. With that I stick my hands underneath the window and I try and pry the old wood open, but nothing happens. I sigh heavily and then I go with the idea I didn't want to do, I bang my fists against the glass. Nothing. I wanted to scream in frustration, but the idea of screaming already has my throat tightening and so I defeatedly fall to my knees as I wait for the Hunter to open the door.