Flesh Eaters

Smart Ones

Chapter 38 - Smart Ones

*Murphy's POV*

I stop in front of the glass panel door. Through the fog and dried blood I can just read the words Terrence County Police Department written on the glass.

Finding Matt at my side I give him a small nod before pushing the door open. The rusty hinges give off a startlingly loud squeak and I freeze in place, half expecting an eater to jump out. When nothing happens I continue forward, Matt trailing behind me.

Looking around it appears to be eater free. Nothing but overturned office chairs and scattered papers occupy the place. Not even the smell of decay that usually follows eaters is present. In fact the air smells rather stale.

I kick a phonebook out of my walk way before I look up. I stop when I notice a black office door cracked open. It's not the door the made me stop, it was the quick flash of a small shadow on the other side. A breeze in the otherwise still air confirms the presents something.

On light feet I move towards the door. Behind me, Matt follows; holding his knife ready. Reaching the door I place one hand on my holstered gun, the other lightly against the door.

Matt positions himself so he can rush in as soon as the door is pushed open and nods to me. Taking it as a sign that his ready, I let out a slow breath before I forcefully shove the door open.

The minute the door slams back into the wall I unholster my gun and Matt rushes in. I follow after him. We stand back-to-back, scanning the room for any movement.

Suddenly Matt hisses in pain and drops his knife. I turn and find him holding his right arm. Blood leaks out between his fingers. The source of the blood comes from a thin razor like cut that runs up his forearm.

Out of the corner of my eye I see a small figure dashing away. It ducks behind a desk, causing a stack of papers to fall.

Human, I think to myself. No eater has the capability, or the sense, to hide after making an attack.

I motion for Matt to stay put before I slowly move toward the desk. As I grow closer I notice two small, dirty, pink and white, shoes poking out from below the desk. When I take another step the floorboards groan and the shoes quickly pull back.

Realizing that the small figure is a child I lower the gun down to my side. "We're not here ta' hurt you," I say as I slowly move closer. I move around the desk and stop next to its drawers.

Carefully I crouch down and find a little girl, maybe 6 years old, cowering underneath the desk. In her small, shaking, hands she grasps a jackknife. Wide, frightened, blue eyes stare back at me.

"Hey there," I say keeping my voice soft, "that's a neat jackknife ya' got there."

The child blinks and looks at the blade then back to me. She almost seems surprised that I'm talking to her, as if that's something uncommon.

"Ya' all by yourself here," I ask wondering if anyone has been taking care of her.

The girl study's me for a long moment before finally nodding. She relaxes her grip on the knife, but still holds it ready.

"You gotta' name," I ask. When she doesn't respond I decide to introduce myself. "Well I'm Murphy, 'n' the man ya' cut, that's Matt. There's three more of us outside. Baird 'n' Evans, they'll take care of the cut, they're doctors--"

"Tess," the little girl says in a tiny voice.

"Tess, that your name?"

The girl gives a small nod and sets the knife down. "The smart ones are around here."