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Flesh Corrupted

In 2020, a Zombie Apocalypse breaks out in Southern Michigan and destroys the lives of the human race. Leon Weiss is a young survivor who is thrown into the Apocalypse with his humanity intact, which proves to be the biggest mistake he could ever make... *Updates Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday*

Twitchy_ · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
48 Chs

It's Important To Trade

The day was June 30th and it was the day right after Korin's funeral. The sun had just risen on the horizon, and I just woke up to be on guard duty for the morning. I had readjusted and completely calmed my nerves after they were so violently shaken up for the past few weeks, and could be trusted to work again.

I was excited about it, sitting around for so long does a great amount of damage to a person. Either way, work had to be done and I would've done it regardless.

I hopped onto the roof with my pistol and stared out at both sides of the road. The barriers were looking much more reinforced, and the area was completely clear of any zombies. Nobody was present at all, and our area was empty. All of the bodies were moved out over the past few weeks as well, which meant during the next rainfall, we would be completely cleared of any blood that fell onto the floor that day, for whatever reason it might've been.

The morning went by smoothly, with the birds chirping in the distance and the wind blowing through the trees. The sounds of nature were easy to get lost in, and I found myself often getting lost.

Right before lunch, I looked over to the right side of the road again, and saw a big truck, almost like a semi-truck painted a full white color, pull up to the gate, and loudly knock on the sheet metal we had for a mock doorbell.

I quickly ducked under the sandbags on the roof and opened the trap door, quickly sliding down the ladder and running to the gym.

Things like this happened pretty often, as people would pass through this road and nothing would come of it. However, this was the first semi-truck I remembered seeing.

"Dad, visitors," I said, peeking my head past the gym door. He nodded, getting his rifle onto the strap, and then onto his back, and then he walked out of the front door.

I bravely followed right behind him, as did Uncle Brandon and Bob. The walk to the right side of the road was long, but Dad made a signal with his arms and they nodded when they saw it.

"Remember, if they try anything, you aim for the tires first," Dad told me. I nodded, and his hand left my back while he continued down the road. I remember that the wind promptly stopped as soon as Dad opened the gate and greeted the people with the semi-truck.

They were all well-kept, not usually how we saw travelers. Other travelers had ripped clothing covered in dirt and often had grim faces on due to what they experienced. I still hadn't run into another person like Korin, but I feel that I've gotten close.

"Hey there! We're your neighbors. My name is Trevor," The man said. He had a kind face and a well-groomed mustache that led to mutton chops. His hair was black, and his head was in the shape of an oval. I don't know why that stood out so much, but it did.

"My name is Charlie Weiss. This is Bob Schulz, Brandon Bert, and my son, Leon Weiss. Are you just traveling through?" Dad asked Trevor. Dad adjusted his body, as he always does when talking to people, and unclipped his pistol from the holster on his hip.

"Well... we could be. We're looking for food, to put it plainly. We planned on looting all schools in the vicinity around here... didn't expect somebody to be holed up so well inside of Deonly Elementary. Do you know any places around here willing to trade medicine for food? We're holed up by the Middle School, so we got all sorts of stuff," Trevor explained, using his hands to explain the situation he was in.

I knew for a fact we had the food to spare, as we had so much in store and even more for eating at leisure at this point. Medicine was always a necessity. If it were me, I would've taken the deal.

"We might have some stuff for you, depending on the medicine you have. What is it that you have?" Dad asked. I didn't know the names of medicine, so I was now out of the conversation, just listening now.

After Trevor and Dad went through a ton of weird names, Dad nodded and waved in the huge semi-truck. I followed right behind him, watching Trevor and his other friend in the truck slowly drive deeper into the road, and stopping when they were right across from the Elementary School.

"Alright! So, take a look at what we got," Trevor said. He kicked up the hatch on the back of the semi-truck and revealed a whole mess of pill bottles, bandages, first aid kits, and a ton of other weird stuff like pallets upon pallets of water bottles.

"We'll take some bandages and pill bottles. We have filtered rainwater here through some stuff we made in that little keg over there, by those blue barrels. Take as much as you need," Dad explained to Trevor. His eyes lit up in excitement after being told that we had fresh water, and both his friend in the passenger seat and Trevor ran to the barrels with various empty bottles.

"Thank you so much! Please, take what you need!" Trevor shouted out to us.

Mom, Theresa, Mary, and Tete all helped take bandages in and many pill bottles in baskets that they weaved, while I stood and watched Trevor and the passenger take from the barrels. I didn't care, but my eyes couldn't leave them.

"You see that, Leon? That's cooperation, a very important part of civilization. I thought they were going to be bad people but look at that, survivors, just like us. And, they're not a part of Vincent's crew at the high school. They're trustworthy, so it's important to build a relationship with them," Dad explained to me again. I nodded, receiving his lesson and digesting it.

"It's weird they never showed up until now... what else do you think we can trade?" I asked Dad. He pondered the question for a moment, looking back at the school, and then back at the semi-truck.

"Not sure, but we'll figure something out. Once Farmer Dave helps us arrange fences for cattle and other shelters like that, we might be able to trade eggs or milk too. Or, once you get super good at shooting, you could be their guard. I'd trade for you," Dad told me. I smiled, remembering how many times I picked out people that wanted to travel through our road to get to where they needed to be. I was pretty good at my job.