Bloody Knuckles and Shotgun Shells
The Fall of the House of Target
Allison's POV:
They broke through. Dozens of bloodied, dead and ashen faces attached to disfigured and broken bodies stumble through the broken glass front doors of our safe haven. Well, former safe haven. Oh, hell.
More and more pile through. It’s endless. We have to get out. We can’t fight off this many. Lucky for us, they move slow, often stumbling and falling over each other. Stupid motherfuckers.
“Looks like there’s going to be a change of plans,” Alex exclaims. “I wouldn’t normally say this, but I think the back door is our best bet.” That’s my brother for you. Gotta love that sense of humor.
We all make a break for it, running back to our campsite to salvage as much as we can. We all have donned at least a backpack and a shoulder bag of supplies, complete with holstered armaments covering our legs and chests. It looks like we just walked off the set of a Rambo movie. Well, without the horrible voice and shitty haircut.
The back employee exit previously used by Joey and I seems untouched. I open the door, weapon drawn and ready for anything.
There is nothing but silent darkness awaiting us. All the shitheads must be at the front of the store. I sure hope that’s the case.
“Hey Joey,” Alex whispers. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get the wagon for you, man.”
Joey laughs quietly. “It’s okay. I can just hide behind this one if I have to.” He points to me.
“Pussy,” I accuse.
“You are what you--,” Alex begins but thinks better of it. He shudders and walks silently for a while. Ashton and I snicker for a good bit of walking time.
“Where are we headed again?” I ask her.
“I thought it would be a good idea for us to travel the interstate up to the main city. See if there are any people and try to find another area to set up camp.”
“But don’t you think there’ll be a lot more of those things in the city? There’s more people there, yes, but a higher chance of a widespread and rapid infection rate.”
“Okay are you Joey or Bill Nye? Seriously,” I snap.
“Hey hey. We don’t need to get fussy,” Alex jokes. “Need a nap?” I sigh dramatically and glare at him, all the while he smiles widely.
“Joey’s got a point,” Ashton interjects. “But with the high population density there’s also more chance of finding survivors.”
Recovered from my embarrassing slip, I suggest, “Shall we take a vote on it?” Everyone nods in agreement.
“All persons present that are for going on our intended and previously planned route to the inner city raise your right hand.” Everyone but Joey has a hand raised. He reluctantly agrees but warns that it’s a very bad idea.
“Cheer up, Negative Nancy,” I say, rubbing his arm. Ashton notices but merely quirks and eyebrow, saying nothing.
“I just have a bad feeling about this.”
They broke through. Dozens of bloodied, dead and ashen faces attached to disfigured and broken bodies stumble through the broken glass front doors of our safe haven. Well, former safe haven. Oh, hell.
More and more pile through. It’s endless. We have to get out. We can’t fight off this many. Lucky for us, they move slow, often stumbling and falling over each other. Stupid motherfuckers.
“Looks like there’s going to be a change of plans,” Alex exclaims. “I wouldn’t normally say this, but I think the back door is our best bet.” That’s my brother for you. Gotta love that sense of humor.
We all make a break for it, running back to our campsite to salvage as much as we can. We all have donned at least a backpack and a shoulder bag of supplies, complete with holstered armaments covering our legs and chests. It looks like we just walked off the set of a Rambo movie. Well, without the horrible voice and shitty haircut.
The back employee exit previously used by Joey and I seems untouched. I open the door, weapon drawn and ready for anything.
There is nothing but silent darkness awaiting us. All the shitheads must be at the front of the store. I sure hope that’s the case.
“Hey Joey,” Alex whispers. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get the wagon for you, man.”
Joey laughs quietly. “It’s okay. I can just hide behind this one if I have to.” He points to me.
“Pussy,” I accuse.
“You are what you--,” Alex begins but thinks better of it. He shudders and walks silently for a while. Ashton and I snicker for a good bit of walking time.
“Where are we headed again?” I ask her.
“I thought it would be a good idea for us to travel the interstate up to the main city. See if there are any people and try to find another area to set up camp.”
“But don’t you think there’ll be a lot more of those things in the city? There’s more people there, yes, but a higher chance of a widespread and rapid infection rate.”
“Okay are you Joey or Bill Nye? Seriously,” I snap.
“Hey hey. We don’t need to get fussy,” Alex jokes. “Need a nap?” I sigh dramatically and glare at him, all the while he smiles widely.
“Joey’s got a point,” Ashton interjects. “But with the high population density there’s also more chance of finding survivors.”
Recovered from my embarrassing slip, I suggest, “Shall we take a vote on it?” Everyone nods in agreement.
“All persons present that are for going on our intended and previously planned route to the inner city raise your right hand.” Everyone but Joey has a hand raised. He reluctantly agrees but warns that it’s a very bad idea.
“Cheer up, Negative Nancy,” I say, rubbing his arm. Ashton notices but merely quirks and eyebrow, saying nothing.
“I just have a bad feeling about this.”
♠ ♠ ♠
-AllisonComments are lovely. Very lovely.