Clarkesville (Chandler Riggs)

Chapter 13

The young man's appearance was a little off-putting. He wore dark ripped baggy jeans, an ugly band t-shirt with sweat stains, and torn-up adidas high-tops. His hair was obviously dyed black, as it stuck damp onto his large forehead. Not to mention that he wasn't the skinniest person in the world; but yet he was still a little over-weight.

Behind trailed another man, who looked a bit older and stronger. Then there was a skinny black woman, a young boy, a slightly older man with a white beard, and many others that I couldn't focus on.

Chandler and I had our guns up while Brianna bared her knife. Almost all of the grown-ups in this new group had weapons, rifles and bows.

"Put down your weapons!" Shouted the man up front. He had a raspy voice with a thick southern accent. "Now!"

I could feel both Brianna and Chandler staring at me. They both stood a couple feet behind me, and I was in the middle of them. In the position of a leader, although that was not me.

If we held onto our weapons, than we were putting ourselves at a great risk if we ended up getting close to these strangers.

But if we didn't, they could end up thinking that we ourselves are dangerous. What if someone here ends up dead during this encounter?
"Put 'em down!" He shouted again.

I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut, and just hide in the back of our Subaru unseen from these people. "Riley." Chandler whispered.

The only possible thing that I could think of that most likely wouldn't get us killed, was to drop our weapons and hope for the best.

The clank of my knife and gun hit the ground, and it echoed as Chandler and Brianna did the same. I released my nervous gaze from my boots and up toward the group of people.

The men and women had sort of lowered their rifles, as they inched toward us. I could tell already these people were brave but dangerous.
"What's you're name, you in the front." Asked the second man.

Should I give him my real name? Or a fake one? If I told him that my name was something different, how would that go down if we stayed with these people? They would accuse us of liars; although they might just understand the reason for it. "Riley." Oops.

"The boy?" All of the people in the group had their weapons put away, besides the first two men. I imagined that they were the brutal ones in charge.

I could hear a quick intake of breath from behind me. "Chandler." There was nothing I wanted more tight now than to turn around to look at Chandler; to discuss another one of our plans.

"And you, sweetie pie. You got one too?" The one with the black hair smirked. I knew it, he was the pervert of the group. There's always one.

Her response was truthful, but she was tempted to lie. "B-Brianna."
The two of our groups were only meters apart. There was no getting out of this now.

"Name's Homer. This here's Vincent, Earl, and Joy. The little ones are Anna and Freddie. That's..." Homer's redneck southern accent was terrifying and unattractive. It made me want to shake my head and look away.

But I didn't have to look away; my eyelids did it for me.

At the mention of Freddie's name, my heart shattered like a rock hitting glass. Whenever I thought of him, it hurt me. But hearing his name from another person's mouth, no matter how different it came out - my whole body instantly cringed.

The scene before me became a bright blue, the color that almost matched Freddie's eyes. As I fell against the truck a pair of hands caught onto my shoulders.