surviving Z-land✔

3-don't play the hero#

I make my way to my door. It's about 1 in the afternoon So it's a perfect time to go out to restock on essentials like hopefully food. I'm wearing my old- almost every day- jeans, a long sleeved black shirt, combat boots and white leather golfers gloves. I swipe my sun shades of the desk on my way to the door. My underground compound is not very big and could only keep three people at the most but it's big enough for me, and me alone.

I have no family. Clichè, I know but my mother was a single parent and I am an only child. My mother died just when the wave hit a year and a half ago but zombies didn't kill her. Surprisingly she was in a car accident on the way back home when the rioters decided to parade the streets. I have mourned and cried but I decided to be strong and live because that's what she would have wanted me to do.

I push the heavy reinforced door open and make my way up the short stack of stairs to the next door which is actually light and mostly for the zombies. The second door is for the low life's that may try rob me. I push the light wood door open breathing in fresh air. The gun holster around my waist and leg give me security but I still grabbed my lucky axe. The end of the axe lies on my right shoulder as I walk down the deserted street of a place I once called home. Dead, rotting bodies litter the floor. Black, burned out cars and buildings are my only scenery.

I take a turn down a shadowed ally way and at the end are three zombies. I keep quiet and hide behind a dumpster. I could kill them now or...

I stand from my hiding spot and whistle. The zombies turn to me. All looking gruesome and bloated. There skin is rotting and mushy. I can smell the awful stench from here. These were long turned I can tell. Limbs have either fallen off or twisted an odd way. An eye missing from one and a gaping hole in the stomach of another.

They walk slowly to me. Stumbling and groaning so I decide to meet them half way. I swing my axe at the first and I crush it's skull. I turn and kick one next to me which causes it to fall over and I bring my axe down on it's face. The last lunges at me, catching me off guard but I manage to dodge in time and hastily swing my axe.

The head falls to the ground followed by the body.

That was fun. 

I carry on my marry way walking past other houses. I make it to the street where the rich live. Most that did survive the mass riot moved to the government facilities while the rest with little money weren't taken. What assholes.

I walk past houses, kicking stones occasionally and staying out of sight but a scream interrupts my peaceful thinking. I look at the house I was about to pass and stop.

Another scream.

Should I or shouldn't I? To die or not to die? That is the question.

Another shout and a bang.

Fuck it, why not?

I run through the door and stop in what looks like a living room. No zombies here which is ironic because this is the living room.

Foot steps above me remind me why I'm here. The house is kind of dark because the windows are bordered up with wood.

I jog up the steps and as I reach the landing a shadow runs past me and shoots my direction but misses. Zombies trail behind the shadow. Some fast and others slow. I shoot most but some escaped into the other room.

I run after them and see they are advancing to the shadow standing in the corner. I shoot the remaining zombies and run forward to grab the strangers wrist.

The person stars thrashing violently and hitting me.

"Would you stop! I'm trying to help!" I drag the person with me. I can still hear groans and footsteps nearby so we need to get out of this dark, dodgy house.

We make it to the door and I jog while still dragging the person- not looking back- down the side walk till we reach an ally and there I stop.

I put my hands on my knees trying to catch my breath. I need to build up stamina. When my breathing is moderately okay I stand straight and pull out my gun, pointing it at the person I saved.

It's a guy. Long curly brown hair touching he's shoulders and green wide eyes. He puts up he's hands. One holds a gun and when he sees me looking at it, he drops it.

"Hi, I'm Si."

(Pronounced cye or sighe almost)