Book Two: From Death

Get Away

A/N: We catch up with Issac much later in his day. I put more focus on Issac as a character as he has something interesting to see. Jonas is established and generally psychologically healthy at this point and time. And there is more to explore with the progress and slippage of Issac. That isn't to say Jonas has nothing to offer plot wise. He does. But he also reveals too much from his eyes. And I want to keep some surprises!

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Issac:

I was laying in bed after a long day. Glancing over at my clock on my nightstand I saw it was just 8 am. I was tired mentally, but my body still felt active; so sleep was out of question. Then I caught sight of it. My blades out of the corner of my eye that I had hanging in the closet in my harness. I heaved my body up, entering the closet and flipping on the light. I looked around and saw some of my things I'd had in here. My weapons, my poncho, knee spikes, and my mask. Hesitantly, I approached my mask, hands caressing its cool surface. I lifted it off the shelf I had it sitting on, studying it's details. A reckless idea came to mind. And the urge to hunt came back clear as day. I hadn't realized it was an urge until I was stuck here, unable to be out there. On my own beyond the walls I'd encountered so many infected that the urge to hunt was drowned out.

But I was too tired mentally to hold back this urge and keep it locked away. I geared up, grabbing my boots and a watch before sneaking downstairs. Adam was already asleep after he tried to kill himself eating copious amounts of food. And Darren fell asleep doing his homework in his room. Slinking down the stairs, looking at yet another clock. This was in between shift changes. I should be able to sneak up and over the walls without detection. I entered our backyard after putting on my boots and knee spikes, sizing up the wall that was just behind the bamboo. I paused for a moment, pulling on my mask, the moonlit night stained red. I found a support beam in the wall, giving it a tap with one of my blades and being greeted by a relatively silent thud. Heaving a breath I hauled my body up the beam, crouching down low on the wall's top. I wasn't sure what was to happen if I got caught doing this. But this was my only chance to scratch this itch.

I slipped down over the railing, sliding down another beam. Luckily there were holes bored into it so climbing back up this side would be easier. I was down beyond the walls now, my heart racing as my body felt willed into action. I wandered off into the forest that had been shoved back, feeling at ease to be under cover. Once I had wandered into the forest considerably I listened out. My ears located the sound of an owl. The rustling of leaves catching my attention as I was experiencing a sensory overload. I began to whistle as I wandered further out into the forest, picking up the intensity of my tune as I wandered into a small clearing. And then I heard what I wanted to hear, a roar in the distance.

And not long I heard loud steps crunching through the undergrowth towards me. I turned just in time to clash with a barbaric. I leaped up onto a boulder to create some distance as its heavy swings missed me, blowing off pieces of rock with its hardened stalks. I lunged forward, stopping abruptly as the path of one of its swinging arms changed. I countered it with the blunt side of my blades, being sent flying across the clearing. When I recovered a creeper leaped out of the forest, pinning me down and trying to sink its teeth into me. I reached up, stabbing my blades into its chest and forcing it back with a grunt. Though the barbaric was right on us both, falling onto us and impaling the creeper that let out a curdling shriek.

I wriggled free, unleashing some kicks as I essentially practiced. The creeper had been stuck to the barbaric, slowing it down and making it a punching bag. I lured them through the forest after I had disabled their jaws so they couldn't scream. I didn't need any more infected to handle with my weapons.

I practiced switching grips on my blades, aiming for spots that weren't vital. I unleashed kicks and swift punches until I grew tired and fatigued. But the damage I was inflicting was brutal as the creeper had died long ago from injuries. The barbaric had fallen to its knees with a gurgle, unable to fight me any longer. Its body had been lacerated with several deep gashes from different combinations of grips. I spun one of my blades into a pierce, ending its suffering.