A Far Leap Into the Fog: short story

Pg 3

I lean against the wall as I rest my head against the window and I close my eyes as I listen to the insistent banging of the door and I could hear muffled shouting of what seems to be a conversation, but I didn't care at this point. The kids were already out and I had already accepted death.

"Fuck! You FUCKER! Fuck you, you little shit!"

I'm yanked to my feet by my hair and I slowly open my eyes as I definitely look at the Hunter and he spits in my face as he kneels me in my stomach and drops me. I curl up as I hold my stomach and I could hear more feet entering the small artpen and I wanted to tell them that the apartments flooring wasn't stable for this much weight, but the tightness of throat returned and so I buried my face in the floor as I could the floor creaks in protect and groans under the weight that it couldn't bare.

"Off the kid, Rein. We're here to kill zombies, not defenseless kids."

This man spoke with an authoritative voice and it sent a shiver down my spine as I tightened my grip around my body. I hear most of the other Hunters leave the room as they left the two Hunters and me. I slowly dragged myself to sit up and as I looked at the Hunter who defended me I noticed he looked noticeably older than the Hunter that had been chasing me. I rack my memories of trying to recall the name the older Hunter had called the other Hunter, but I was drawing a blank.

"Get him down to the truck and we'll be leaving this place once we clear this place out of any zombies."

I watch as the older Hunter leaves and I slowly turn my gaze back to the Hunter who's name I couldn't remember. I think it was Drake or was it Drew? Dawn? Paul? Quintin? It didn't matter. I had to get away from these Hunters. I slowly rise to my feet without trying to alarm the Hunter in front of me and I hold my hands up in a surrendering manner.

"Я бы не причинил тебе вреда, если бы ты не доставлял мне хлопот."

I nod my head meekly in submission as the Hunter scolds me and I listen to him sigh as he drags his hand through his hair in a tired manner. He looks me down and up before shaking his head.

"Вы знаете английский? Мой русский немного ржавый."