5 Chapter 5

It had been a few days since the start of this run, and the chaos seemed to have calmed, the distant gunshot, rarer and more distant, I had survived off of the food supplies present in the house until now, only venturing out to explore my immediate surroundings, I had managed to find a Fn 57 in one of the neighboring houses, the occupant. A single zombie that was once a middle aged man,, I had also found a few boxes of ammunition, and while inexperienced, I had shot a gun before, and was confident I could at least hit a zombie in close range, although I was hesitant to use the weapon, the noise likely to attract a horde, or any other unsavories.

After this I had waited a few days for the heat to die down, and today I had decided to make an expedition to the gun store, that i'm sure is already looted, but unlike me, most survivors are incapable of taking all that much weight with them, and while the roads were not as clogged as they are in the movies, it was still hard to navigate, the corpses and empty cars posing a danger to any driver, and the car engine dangerously loud.

So I made my way to the shop, managing the trip relatively unharassed. I had managed to avoid most of the zombies by hiding behind buildings and cars, as they seemed unable to smell me. A lucky break.

Inspecting the store from the window of a parked car, it showed evident signs of battle, bullet holes covering the walls and floors, and a small pile of corpses, likely a horde attracted by the noise, I sat in the car, waiting, for about half an hour, or what felt like it, as I had no way of measuring the time, and satisfied with the lack of movement, and annoyed by the building pain in my legs, and boredom, I made my way into the shop, switching my gun out for a crowbar I had picked up along the way, unwilling to let the gunshots attract others.

I slowly walked through the store, carefully avoiding debris, I winced every time I came down slightly too hard, producing a small noise, and would pause, my inexperience with sneaking around evident, I would wait a few moments after every noise I made, listening, and waiting, before continuing on.

I finally made it to the counter, looking at the wide variety of ammunition, attachments, and guns, many of which strewn about the floor likely as a result of the previous lootings, most of the high powered or high capacity weapons were missing, leaving mostly pistols and bolt action rifles, I quickly began to make a pile of the most important items, determining what to bring back to the safehouse first. When I heard voices outside, and the crunching of broken glass and rotten flesh beneath boots, ducking under the counter, and readying my pistol, I waited.

The voices got closer, to the point that they were now understandable.

"Damn John, look at all these bodies, some unlucky fellows must have attracted a horde and got stuck in here." a man said in a particularly loud and upbeat voice.

"Yeah, the same fucking thing that will happen to us if you don't shut the fuck up Chris." a gruff voice replied, obviously angry.

"Aww man, you worry too much, most of the zombies have already spread out by now a loud voice won't get their attention. You gotta yell for that, like thi-" a crisp slap ringing out just as the man, probably John, was about to yell.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT." the gruff voice returns, enraged, likely struggling to stop himself from shouting in frustration.

"Oh calm down dude, I wouldnt actually do it, now lets grab some ammo and guns and get the fuck out of here before any others arrive. k?" 

"Please."

And as they continue to walk further into the store, I watch the shadow's of one of their feet pass by, as I hold my breath, keeping my gun close to my chest, hoping they pass by me.

"Hey Chris, it looks like someone was here recently, should we be worried?"

"Probably just some desperate sob, probably long gone by now, nothing to worry about."

"Yeah but it looks like someone walked behind the counter, see, there's a footprint in the dust there, but non leading out."

'Fuck' I think to myself, as I shoot to my feet, swinging my body around to face the two men, I see them dressed in normal clothing, beat up, and torn in several places, but nothing special, one, a tall lanky man, carrying a crowbar, and the other, a shorter, body builder type, with a kitchen knife in hand, and a pistol on his side, they stiffen at my appearance, the one with a gun reaching for his side, but I pull my gun around to face him, and he stops.

We just stand there, staring at each other for a while, the atmosphere tense, as I my mind races, trying to figure out where to go from here, when the gunman slowly reaches down to place his knife on the floor, my eyes following him carefully, watching for any movement towards his gun, as he stands back up, holding his hands in the air placatingly.

"Whoa whoa calm down man, we're all in the same boat here, so how about you put the gun down and we can talk this out?" he asks, motioning for me to put down the gun, which I don't.

"Remove your belt and tell your friend to drop the crowbar, then we can talk. I say, I'm in the position of power here, separated from the two by a countertop, the man with the crowbar would be unable to get a good hit on me before I shot him, so I put more importance on the man with the gun, understanding that if he has any experience with a gun he could likely unholster it and shoot me before I recovered from his friends attack.

I can see the anger in his eyes, only reinforcing my decision as the right one. And he stares at me for a while, probably trying to figure out if I had the guts to actually pull the trigger. Before sighing and reaching towards his belt, my grip tightening on my gun, before a I hear a clasp of metal, and the belt drops to the floor, his friend staring at him in shock, looking between the two of us, before slowly putting down his own crowbar, and I lower my gun, adopting a more relaxed form, although keeping my hand on my gun.

I'm about to open my mouth to speak when out of the corner of my eye I spot a shadow moving, whipping my head around just in time to see a girl stepping through the door, shotgun in hand, and drop to the floor, the shell missing me entirely, hitting the wall a few meters to my left, my ears ringing, quickly picking myself up, and running along the lengthy counter, getting to the far end of the store, disappearing into the shadows of the store.

"God damn it Sarah, that was the second time you've done this, I thought I told you not to shoot every survivor we meet."

"Oh come on chris, you know we can't trust anyone anymore, plus, not like we have the food to spare on useless mouths." 

"That was because the last guy was a rich asshole who just wanted to protect us, this guy could at least hold a gun! Just admit you like killing people and stop trying to justify yourself already."

'What the fuck is happening right now?' I think to myself. Confusion rising within me, as my eyes seem to swim.

But despite my confusion, my body continues to move, as if I suddenly became a trained professional, stepping quietly through the shadows, as the group continues to argue, likely thinking I was already dead, or dying.

Pulling up behind a rack of fishing gear, the store also sold fishing, hunting, and camping gear.

I pull the gun up in front of me. Aiming through the small Iron Sights, I spend a moment lining the smaller single nub of metal at the end of the barrel between the two ones closer to me, the sights resting over the girls head, I hesitate, before moving the sight to her shoulder, deciding to disarm instead of kill her. The naive hope we could still settle this peacefully filling my mind. As I pull the trigger, the slide flying backwards as the gun lifts in my hands, the bullet already in flight, I hear the scream, and watch as the girl falls to the floor, clutching her shoulder.

"Fuck" the men yell, before the bulky one reaches towards the gun he had left on the floor. 

I fire again, but miss, the bullet flying over him, as he pulls his gun from the floor, turning it on me, No time to aim for his arms,  the gun nearly pointing at me,  I pull the trigger again, hitting him center mass, and his chest lurches backwards, as he falls to the floor, gasping for air, he lies there, wailing and screaming, a heartbreaking noise, that slowly grows weaker, falling into silence, and I freeze in confusion. 'I just shot him in the chest, there's no way he's dead right. Right?' as I stand up, walking closer, but to my horror, I see his eyes, empty and dead, his chest still, and feel bile rising in my throat. Somehow, out of pure, blind luck, the bullet having pierced the man's heart, I feel bile rising in my throat, my vision swimming again.

I open my mouth, trying to say something, but all that comes out is a croak. I close my mouth again, open it, close it, and finally, force out a quiet, shaky, apology. "I… I'm so sorry, I, I didn't mean to kill him, but he was going to shoot me, so I panicked, I'm so sorry." the words pouring from my mouth like a river, I see the lanky man, simply standing there, staring at the corpse of his friend. 

He stands there for a moment, both of us ignoring the still crying woman behind us, our attention completely held by the dead man.

Finally, the man cries, a deep, terrible wail, filled with anger, despair, and grief, as turned and swung at me, and I come face to face with the man, his bloodshot, tear streaming eyes, looking directly into mine, as I freeze in shock, before feeling his fist collide with my cheek, as my head snaps to the side, as I lose my balance and fall to the floor, my head hitting the ground hard, as my brain is rattled within my skull, and the world turns white for a split second before returning, my thoughts fuzzy, my vision a wash of colors, and I see stars in my vision, having likely got a concussion from the heavy fall. I weakly raise my arms before my face.

Instinctively protecting my head as the man falls my chest, beating me down with both arms, his limbs a flailing mess, as snot and tears run down his face. 

It registers to me that the man was young, just barely older than myself, and again I feel bile rising in my throat, but before I can swallow it down, his fists again collide with my chest, and I feel the air leave my lungs, and vomit, the bile, a thin liquid, spraying across the mans face, as he recoils in pain as the acid enters his eyes.

And I turn to drag myself away, my arm reaching out before I feel a hand wrap around my leg, pulling me backwards, as I kick out frantically, trying to free myself from his hold. To no avail, as he drags me back towards him, my arms reaching in all directions, my fingers wrap around a piece of cold metal. Not even bothering to look at the object, I swing it around, and hear a cry of pain, as I pull myself up, looking at the man, rubbing his head, a small display case lying next to him, likely the object I threw at him, frantically searching the room with my eyes, I see the dead man within arms reach of me, again feeling sick, but force it down, the glint of shiny metal visible near his leg, 'the knife.' I reach out, feeling another collision on the back of my head, as my face hits the floor, and I groan, my nose broken, I barely feel the pain, adrenaline fueling me, my fingers search the floor, as my head is continuously beaten into the floor, finally finding the grip, I swing it behind me, a shrill cry, and I pull myself around, the knife lodged in the man's side, he looks between the knife and me, his eyes filled with disbelief, but I recover faster, my free arm shooting forwards, as I hit the man in the chin, and he falls on his back, groaning, I follow, by now, my mind is empty, and I have only one objective, survive, survive, and kill my attacker, I groan in pain, lifting the knife, before slamming it down between the man's ribs, and he releases another cry, his fingers clawing across my arms, pulling off strips of skin, and leaving long bloody streaks along my arms. But I am undeterred, forcefully pulling the knife free, I slam it back into the man's chest.

Again, he tries in vain to defend himself, weaker this time, and I repeat again.

Slam, lift, slam, lift, slam lift, slam lift slamliftslamsliftslamsliftslamlift…

Eventually, my arms burn in exhaustion, and I lose my grip of the knife, my fingers bloody and broken, but still I continue, until my bones break, and my arms fall limply to my sides, and I lift my head towards the ceiling, a long, painful groan, of frustration and anger leaving my lips.

As blood pours from my face and head, my body a broken mess, my face lulling forwards, facing the corpse below me, already cold, I have no Idea how long I sat there, before I heard the shuffling of footsteps, wheezing growls, and stumbling movements, and look to the door, as a single zombie walks in, and I simply stare at it, as I look around the room, the girl had stopped crying, she to, was dead, likely from shock, or something else, as anger bubbled within me.

'This is all your fucking fault. If you didn't try to shoot me, you and your friends would still be alive. I WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!' 

But there is nothing I can do now, and my eyes return to the zombie, now much closer, as I try to move, but my muscles refuse to respond, and a funny thought enters my mind, and I laugh, my laughter growing louder, and louder still, as I feel something within me break, as if the floodgates were opened. As my sanity abandons me like everyone else, and I'm reminded of my life before this, until I begin to hack and cough, feeling my broken ribs piercing my lungs, as I look back at the zombie.

"Oh sorry sorry, I'm not laughing at you, I just pffff, I just find it hilarious how a fucking zombie is in a better condition than me. Pffa ha ha ha*gasp* pff xa xa pfa xa." and I continue laughing, even as the zombie begins to tear into my flesh, as my mind begins to break down, the stress and trauma of what just happened, combined with the absurdity of my new situation causing irreparable damage to my mind.

Even as I wake up again in the lobby, and suddenly remember that everything that just happened was fake, the struggle, the trauma, the fighting, all a simulation, a trial imposed on me by some god against my will for their own entertainment, but despite myself, I somehow can only find the situation hilarious, as I roll over clutching my stomach, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

(an, not sure how satisfied I am with this chapter, but I still think it turned out pretty well. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.)