The old man raised his arm as he kept making the noise from the depth of his throat. He was somewhat changed, not that I've paid attention to his looks before. His eyes had turned purl white and his skin was pale. He was moving to a paranormal rhythm and as he had his vision-less sight locked on to us.
"Sir, we are friends of your granddaughter, Tara." I said remembering his memory condition.
Old man took another step towards us, making his whole body to work.
"Sir, we are here to work on a big science project." Said Ryan. "It's a group project, and it accounts for half of the marks we need for..."
"Dude shut up." I interrupted him. "Idiot."
Another noise matching the previous one came from the old man.
"Did you hear that?" Ryan asked looking at me.
"You shouldn't be walking Mr. Pritchett." I said, not knowing anything else to say.
"Do you need something?" Asked Ryan. "Maybe we can get it for you and you can go back to chilling on your chair."
We stood there speechless as the old man kept making his way to us slowly. As we waited with no idea about our next move, we suddenly heard someone hammering on the front door.
"What's that!" Ryan asked with big eyes.
After about two loud hits, we heard the door giving up and slamming against the floor with a bang! The footstep noise of at least two people walking around made us stand there blankly expecting to face whatever that was coming to us.
"Huh, rich folk." An intruder said. Then a loud noise of a glass shattering into pieces came, reminding me of the glass cupboard that was placed in the living room, which had valuables in it.
"Jackpot." He said.
"You think there are people here?" Another young voice accompanied the intruder.
"People—walkers. Whatever."
Hearing that startled us. People or walkers? The attention of the old man standing in front of us had been disturbed by the commotion in the other room. He turned around back to where the living room was—where the sound came from, growling as he did.
"Hear that?" The footsteps stopped, and the old man's rumble echoed in every corner of the house.
"We got one." The voice said as a gun cracked.
Ryan and I heard steady footsteps closing in. We kept our eyes on the door which led to the living room, expecting to see our unexpected guests. Making us amazed and puzzled, a man with a shotgun and another younger fellow accompanying him with a handgun entered the room. We all stood there trying to understand the situation.
"Did he get to you?" He asked from us, pointing to the old man with his shotgun.
"What?" Ryan asked, as lost as I was.
"Did he wound you?" He asked again.
"No." Said Ryan.
My mouth was zipped the whole time.
"Ricky you take this one—silent as the wind in plains." The intruder commanded.
The boy with the handgun walked up without any hesitation. He drew a knife from his behind and stuck it up the old man's chin. As Ryan and I watched the extreme murder with shivering feet, he pulled off the knife. The lifeless body slammed against the floor, scattering blood all around.
"What the hell are you doing!" Ryan yelled.
"Why?" Asked Ricky. "You want him to bite your ass?"
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Surviving Walkers
Terror"When god does some shit you don't go and question it-you adjust to it. And right now, you're either a survivor or one of these dead walking pricks." He said looking at the dead old man with disgust. Then he looked at us. "You'll be one of them soon...
