Good Intentions

Tucker Jensen

I was all alone, cold, and hungry. But it was my fault that my friends left me to die. I had pushed two of my friends into the herd of the dead. I did it to save my ass, but my other friends soon realized that I made a selfish decision. So they took a vote: if I could stay, or if I had to go. It ended with everyone raising their hands to vote me out of the group. I didn't say goodbye, nor did I want to. They just ruined my chances of survival. Just because I sacrificed to of my friends, big deal.

They did give me a hunting knife, an arrow head, and some cans of food. Thankfully, I had an old backpack to carry the food in, or I'd be out of luck. Traveling light was the plan, but that wasn't going to work if I wanted to survive at least four days. I had to pack things that were essential for me to survive.

"Come on, Tucker. You can do this." I said to myself, only trying to tell myself that everything was going to be okay. But I knew it wasn't, I knew I had little to no chance of surviving now.

Walking down the road, away from my ex friends, I could of sworn I saw someone. Or something. But I was too busy focusing on keeping my footing on the dirt road. It was a messed up road, and it looked as if people were trying to dig it up.

Like that would have worked anyway, I swore that people in this state of mind were complete idiots. But as soon as I made it to the end of the road, I was way too tired to keep going.

I wanted to lay down and rest, but I couldn't. I knew I had to keep going, but I was in the middle of nowhere. There wasn't anything for miles upon miles, and it wasn't going to be dark until a couple more hours. I was going to die out here, and I thought that I deserved it. Before all this happened, I remember walking down this road everyday. It was good practice for track, and it did help. But since this started, I did nothing but stay behind the group. I didn't know how to kill these things, and I'm pretty sure if it weren't for my friends, I'd be dead already.

But what I did was wrong, and now I had become karma's bitch. So as I searched for a tree that I could sleep against, I fell into a pothole, and I felt my ankle pop. Screaming in pain, I realized I shouldn't have done that. I could hear footsteps coming towards me, and my instincts kicked in. Running as best I could, it hurt more and more with each step. I couldn't go any further, but I didn't stop trying. I knew I was about to die, and that this was it. Remembering the knife my ex friends gave me, I quickly pulled it out. Turning around to see how many were after me, and there were about ten.

"Shit." I said before throwing my semi-heavy backpack at two of them. It knocked both down, and I had begun to try and run again.

When I reached the deserted town, I instantly fell. I knew that I did the best I could. But as soon as one came close to me, that's when I heard gunshots.

That's when I knew I was safe again.