wasteland - dreamnotfound

Chapter Eight

~|George|~ 

"Well, this was unexpected." 

"Tell me about it." I snicker softly at Sapnap's words, firing yet another arrow. The monster I'd aimed at goes down quickly, the perfect shot landing at its chest. "Pog!" 

Sapnap's axe, which had been repaired by Bad, swipes through the air yet again, knocking one of the rotting creatures to the side. A swift arrow from me ends it's short-lived attempt to fight us. 

"Ha! Let's go!" The raven-haired boy exclaims as two more go down. 

"Yes!" I celebrate along with him, the two of us exchanging a quick high-five before springing back into the battle. 

Sapnap and I are near perfect fighters once together, with Sapnap using his slower, heavier, but more damaging axe, and me with my swifter, faster, but less effective bow. I knock off the ones he isn't quick enough to handle, and he takes down the closer zombies that I can't shoot from such a short distance. 

It's almost like a crude dance, really, a routine that's so beautifully choreographed to create an eerie, terrifying, yet stunning performance of blood and corpses.

It's cruel, yes, but true.

I exhale as my final arrow flies, taking down one of the last few zombies. 

"Pogchamp!" Sapnap grins at the word. I giggle, grabbing a few arrows close by from corpses. Nearly all of them hit their target, to my surprise and delight. The rest of the zombies are being killed by the others in Dream's group.

Speaking of, the reason why we'd been fighting was because the group had been on the move. I'd suggested we go in the night, and we had made it to the cottage by early morning, after resting the day before. We hadn't made it quite by the deadline that Dream had talked shit about, but it was close enough for Techno's satisfaction.

Sapnap and I stuck close together, a little ways away from the group, still wary of trusting them. It could be a trap, or just a blatant, easy way to kill us. Now, after the zombies near us are gone, I turn to see the majority of the horde taking more interest in the larger amount of people. 

I exhale, watching as the group fights in small groups, or solo. But my eyes, although he may never know it, are on Dream. 

He moves with practiced precision, everything he does with purpose and swiftness. Dream's quick and his attacks are small but almost always perfectly aimed and clever. I notice he often tires out his opponent before they even get a chance to attack, a useful strategy when fighting zombies. I can see now why he's so famous for his skills, he's incredible.

My breath hitches in my throat and I look away quickly, instead focusing on the new bloodstains that litter my already tattered clothes with a sigh, my gaze trailing over to the cottage nervously. I exchange an uncomfortable glance with Sapnap, both our gazes dark with fear. Who knows what will happen to us?

I exhale softly, snatching up yet another arrow and scooting closer to the horde. I doubted the group needed our help, but I didn't like not doing anything. I felt useless, and that, most definitely, wasn't the most pleasant feeling in the world. Sapnap picked up on my intentions, and follows quickly. 

At least, I thought he did. 

The rhythm of the battle returns to me quickly as I pick off a few zombies, for a moment not realizing the absence of Sapnap beside me. But when I have to switch to my dagger in an attempt to knock away one that's come dangerously close, I've started to become nervous, my aim off and my movements jumpy and messy.

Painfully aware of my now solo fight, I knock the monster away, only for it to be instantly replaced by another. 

Shit.