To Be A Hero

Chapter 33: Big And Loud

Afraid.

So, so afraid.

Singer blinks away the tears, running as fast as her short legs will carry her. Her gun is clutched in her hand, her breathing ragged. Small whimpers of fear threaten to spill from her lips, but she forces them down, knowing the sound will attract the zombies.

She's been out here for an hour, she thinks. She has to survive until sunrise, but she's unsure if she can. She's in the D.C. area, which is swarming with zombies, and all she has is a gun, and it only has one clip of ammo.

There's no light, except for that of the moon. She tries hard to stay in the darkness. It's dangerous, since zombies may be in any alleyway, any dark corner, but she can't be seen. That will be much worse.

So she runs, hiding and ducking into the alleys, eyes and ears peeled. Every nerve is on edge, her own heartbeat thrumming in her ears, blood roaring in her veins. She tastes bile on her tongue, and the stench of decay and death within the streets sears her nostrils.

This street has four zombies staggering around. Singer reckons if she waits long enough, they'll disappear and she can dash into the hardware store across the street. From what she can tell, it's empty, but even if it's not, a hardware store has hammers and wrenches and other tools that she can use as weapons.

The gun is a test. Singer's not stupid. A gun is loud, and if she fires, even once, then every zombie within earshot will be coming for her. This test isn't just to see if she can survive with what she has, but if she can survive with what she doesn't have. And she doesn't have enough ammo to take down all these zombies.

That's why she has the safety on. A stray bullet could cost her her life. She cannot risk it. She's thankful her father taught her how to hunt, and how to shoot a gun at a young age. She doesn't think she'll use the gun tonight, but she at least has enough common sense to make sure the safety is on and how to shoot if she needs to.

For a moment, as she waits, she wonders how many people have died from this test.

The zombies have wandered off, and Singer takes her chance, and she runs, heading for the hardware store, swinging open the glass door and ducking down behind a shelf, praying that none of the undead got a glance of her.

She doesn't know how long she stays there in silence, listening, waiting, holding her breath in fear her breathing might be too loud. After a long, long time, she stands, immediately grabbing a wrench and a hammer, running and placing the two things on the counter, along with her gun. She needs to lock the door, but she wonders what good that will do. It's glass, and the zombies will break the door down before they think of pulling the handle. Locking it would just be a waste of time, really.

So, weapons are good-a hammer and wrench for close range weapons, and a gun for long range, only to be used if absolutely necessary.

"Protection," Singer mutters to herself. She needs something to protect her, some sort of armor, just in case a zombie comes close with biting range. She looks down at her pajamas, which is a short sleeved nightgown that goes just past her knees. This won't help her at all.

Leather or jeans would be a good thing to wear, since those are hard to bite through, but this is hardware store, not a clothing shop, and so far, this place is free of zombies, so Singer needs to stay here since it's safe.

She looks around, her eyes landing on the duct tape on one of the shelves, and an idea pops into her head. She races over to them, grabbing three rolls before heading back and ducking behind the counter, grabbing her gun and placing it by her side. She likes having eyes on her weapon, just in case.