City of the Dead

"What are we doing here?" I asked Rick as he slowed to a stop next to the spot we came across our first walker, or crawler in this case.

"Just something I feel like I should do." He replied getting out of the car. After the the showers at the prison he had changed into his old uniform. I guess it was a comfort thing, as I couldn't see a reason for such a getup. He also had his revolver he had talked about now. It wasn't my choice in firearms, limiting the ammo you could have ready, as well as having a lot more kick than a smaller caliber gun. Felt like overkill to me personally, unless we ran into a walker wearing some kind of armor I guess.

I looked down the field of grass, seeing the intention from where the thing had begun dragging itself. He didn't seem like he was going to run for it, so it will probably take him about 10 minutes at least judging by the fact that I can't see it from here.

"I assume you want me to stay in the car?" I asked through the window after he rounded the car.

"I won't be long." He nodded.

"Well don't shoot your gun unless you have to. We have a lot of ammo, but better to be stingy than wasteful. Especially with one that's not going to be able to fight back." I said gaining another nod as he began following the trail.

I let him get a couple dozen yards away before I got out as well. He parked just across the street from some houses that I could loot while he was gone. Each of these houses had 2 floors, so I would I have to be quick if I wanted to loot more than one before Rick got back.

When I reached the first house I knew that this one was going to be different than the ones I had searched previously. I could smell the scent of death inside the house, and if I strained my hearing I could hear a faint rasping noise. A noise that I was beginning to associate with the walkers breathing.

I did my usual routine of peeking through windows to make sure the area was clear and then slipped through the door. The main wooden door had been left open, leaving only the screen door closed. These were notorious for the noise they made when opening regularly, so instead I took out my knife and cut an opening through the screen for myself.

These older style house were made with bigger doorways, so it was a comfortable fit. The house was like the others, showed wealth but not in a flashy way. You could see the wealth through craftsmanship of the furniture and the house itself. Not really in any materialistic items.

I did a quick cursory sweep of the downstairs, but I could tell that the smell and sound was coming from upstairs. Ascending the stairs I kept my knife gripped in the reverse style. It limited my reach like this but it allowed me a lot more stabbing power than the standard grip. I was confident in my speed and technique for the limited range to not endanger me.

Reaching the top of the stairs I was met with a hallway, that had a runway rug lining the middle. I walked one foot on and foot off the rug, testing it. Like I thought this rug wasn't held down by anything, meaning if I had to run I was going to need to avoid it. So that it doesn't slip from under me and cause me to fall.

I had heard it once I entered the house, a steady creaking along with the rasping. It seemed to come from the room at the end, so after checking each room on my way to it, I eased the door open already knowing what to expect.

As the door opened fully I was met with the scene of a man hanging. He had punched holes through the ceiling with a hammer to wrap the rope around one of the support beams to ensure that it wouldn't break. On the bed next to him was the bodies of 2 people an older woman and a teenage son. A note was left at the foot of the bed, and I picked up to read. Ignoring the now growling and reaching zombie. After all it would be easier for me if it managed to snap the rope.

"Going to the Lord, but ran out of bullets. Damn John and him stealing my ammo."

I put the note back down, and found the hunting rifle the man had used on the other side of the bed. I considered taking it, but decided against it. We had plenty of guns, the main thing we would need is ammo. Let's hope this John thief lives in one of the houses beside this one.

Near the hanging man I saw the step ladder that he had used and stood it back up. I spun the walker around and kept a hold of his shirt so he couldn't spin around to look at me as I climbed the ladder. Flipping up my knife, I jammed it straight up through the back of his head. It twitched a couple times and then went limp. I was surprised but glad that not much blood spilled out when I stabbed him. I couldn't understand how they could move with such coagulated blood.

Wiping what little blood had gotten on the knife on to his shirt, I slashed the rope and let him fall to the ground. I placed a sheet over him like he had done for his family, and after a quick check for anything useful I left. I grabbed the standard fare, rolls of toilet paper that had been stashed under the bathroom sink. Toothpaste and soaps.

What I was really looking forward to though was the cans of food I had seen in their pantry. It seemed this family liked to cook their own meals and hadn't stayed long for the apocalypse. I found 30 cans of varying ingredients: stocks and bases for soups, canned veggies and fruit. I emptied out their trash can, lining it with a new bag as I began to drop the cans inside.

Packaged pasta noodles, flour, sugar, salt as well as a rack of spices. Smaller towns like this were perfect looting if you could find houses like this. Of course not everyone would be ingredient house holds, but even spices can help with basic food. And I'm sure most didn't call it quits as early as this family did, but even if it's only 1/10 houses like this it would be worth it. Loot it before someone else does.

Moving to the fridge I braced myself for the smell, and smiled beneath my makeshift mask. I had begun to think they didn't have any, but they kept all their bottles of water in the fridge! They had canned sodas, diet of course, as well as some fruit juices. Unfortunately everything else seemed to have went bad long ago.

I grabbed some more soaps and cleaning supplies from the cupboards and after one more check of cabinets and closets I left. I had been hoping since the father had a hunting rifle that he would have had camping gear, but he must have kept it at his cabin or somewhere else if he did.

I was able to search through all of one more house and I got about halfway through a 3rd when I finally saw Rick in the distance from a window. It had taken him right at 10 minutes almost 11. These last 2 houses hadn't had much in the ways of necessities, it seemed they had packed up and left. I did manage to score a gas can that they likely used for their lawn mower. It could hold 3 gallons of gas in it. Not a lot, but better than nothing.

I stashed my meager hall from the last 2 houses in the trunk with the guns, along with the gas can. My first house hall was in the backseat. I didn't expect hide what I had managed to loot from Rick, but I also didn't think he would allow me to go looting on my own if I asked.

He nodded at me as I waved through the window while he rounded the car. I noticed his confusion through the rear view mirror as was met by it when he got into the car.

"What the hell is all this?" He asked as he looked at the garbage bag taking up his back seat, a roll of garbage bags on the floorboard next to them.

"I found it." I replied with a shrug.

"You found it… What did you find and where did you find it?" He asked with a vein bulging on the side of his face. He didn't really seem angry per se, but he definitely didn't seem happy.

I told him about my looting while he was gone, skipping over the walker I killed in the first house.

"Look peaches! You like peaches, right?" I asked as I grabbed a can of quartered peaches. I handed him a fork and grabbed my own, spearing a peach on it. Rick just shook his head as he took his fork and got a peach.

"You grabbed forks too?" He asked.

"Well duh. I'm not going to eat with my hands like a savage." I replied, enjoying the taste of the peach.

"Do you want the juice?" I asked waving the now peach less can at him. He shook his head as he cranked the car.

"All yours, Adam. All yours. Just promise you won't go gathering supplies without me again. The world isn't a safe place for children anymore." He said seriously.

"It never was, it's just more obvious now." I said before taking another sip of the peach juice. Rick looked at me out of the corner of his for a moment before nodding and driving off.

We didn't stop much after that. I asked him to stop back by the military camp and I grabbed a couple of the empty gas cans that were strapped to the humvees. They were bigger, 5 gallon containers. I also tore down one of the tents and bundled it up tightly. I would have taken some of the cots as well, but we would have to disassemble them to fit them in the car.

"Whatcha gonna do with the tent?" Rick asked as he helped me roll it up. Wrapping a rope around the the rolled up canvas. We couldn't take the poles that held it up because they were 7 foot steel poles.

"Mother said that staying dry and warm is just as important as keeping fed. Tents like this can double as the base of your bedding to keep you off the damo ground, or you can use it like a hammock and super yourself above the ground." I said, lifting the bundle into my shoulder.

"Your parents taught you a lot, huh?" He replied.

"A lot." I nodded.

We continued down highway 85 to Atlanta with Rick sending out calls over his radio for any survivors. I could see lightning and dark clouds in the distance. They were rolling east just like we were to Atlanta. We had stopped several times to siphon gas out of vehicles we passed on the road. Soon our cans were full, and his car was as well.

Rick still gave me strange glances whenever I did stuff like that. I was beginning to wonder when he would stop being surprised, or if he ever would. I knew that the things I knew weren't normal for a kid my age, but it was what I knew and it was helping us.

When we began to get close to the city our side of the high way was free and clear, but the other one… it had a mile's worth of cars trying to leave the city, all abandoned.

"We might not want to drive the car into the city." I said as I looked at all the cars leading away fr Atlanta.

"Why's that?" Rick asked.

"The sound. The car is fairly quiet, but it's definitely not silent." He nodded at my words, and pulled off on to the train tracks by the road. He backed the car up in between the train and the tree line, effectively hiding it from the road. We could return for the for the car once we confirmed there is indeed a refugee center here, but we both agreed that we didn't like the odds with the car graveyard leading out.

We each took a gun from the bag, Rick handing me a pistol from it. I hadn't told him about my M9 yet.

"You said you know how to shoot. Show me." He said.

"Really? Right now?" I asked slightly annoyed.

"Yes, I have to know that you can use it. Shoot your peach can from where you're standing." He said as he stopped me in the middle of the road and placed the peach can on the lane divider. It was a 36 foot shot, probably tough for most people. He stepped back beside me and crossed his arms as he watched.

I checked the mag, making sure it actually had bullets in it. Slid it back in and then pulled the slide back to chamber a round, flicked the safety switch down and lined up my shot. With an exhale I squeezed the trigger smoothly and sent the can flying off the divider. I turned to Rick to see a surprised look on his face, as I walked to grab the can.

"Through the peach on the label too. Believe me now?" I asked with a cheeky smile. I never got to revel in my skills before, mother and Father saying that it led to arrogance. It was nice being able to show off and surprise someone though.

"Your Mother taught you that?" He asked dryly as he shook his head.

"You're learning, sheriff." I replied.

"Sheriff's Deputy." He corrected and I just shrugged.

"Doesn't matter much now."