User blog:Ireithien/The Walking Jed - Chapter 2





Chapter 2

As Ire aimlessly drove the car down the twists and turns of the city, he became slowly sick at the scenes before him. Zombies slamming on the doors of houses, usually in groups of two or three. Once in a while, Ire would see a pool of blood, with a zombie sitting in the middle of it, gnawing the remnants of its meal.

Truly sick.

Ire had no clue how severe the spread of the apocalypse, the disease, had become. When had it started? Where had it started? Will a cure be found?

Shaking his head to clear these pointless questions from his mind, Ire considered his options.

It's likely that people will have organized by this point, created some form of... survivor camp, thought Ire. ''I could make for one of those. I have supplies, weapons. I'd be useful. I can pull my own weight.''

Then again, I might be better off just on my own...

His thoughts were interrupted as he abruptly turned a corner, to find a wave of zombies advancing toward a nearby house. Ire slammed hard on the brakes and watched the strange scene unfold. The creatures just kept coming, but none, oddly enough, were reaching the door. Then he saw the corpses: spread randomly, the number growing. Bullets peppered their ranks. But from whom? Looking up, Ire saw the shooter in the window of the house.

A teenage boy, looking about fifteen years old, had a sniper rifle supported by the windowsill, shooting zombies straight in the skull. He was the wearing dark black clothing. His hair matched, the shade of a midnight sky, grown out to almost shoulder-length. As Ire watched in fascination, the kid continued to reload and fire, killing zombie after zombie. He was doing a good job holding his own, but the repeated loud noises was just drawing more zombies, and gradually, they would overcome him.

Ire knew he had to help. Getting out of the car, he slipped his pistol out of its holster and took aim at the closest zombie, firing into its brain. The zombie fell prostrate to the pavement. At the same moment, the boy looked quickly at me, an expression of confusion crossing his face briefly, before giving his attention back to the advancing creatures.

Ire shot another zombie, and the another. Slowly he was gaining their attention. As soon as there was a gap through the undead army, he shot forth like a speeding bullet. A zombie ran behind him, snarling. Wanting its next meal.

Ire turned and smacked the creature on the head with his gun, stunning it long enough to create a window of escape. Ire kept running, reaching the front door and throwing it open. Surprisingly, it was unlocked.

Ire took a brief look around, and then headed up the steps to the room where the kid was, shooting the zombies.

The boy put down his gun and gave Ire a quizzical look as he came in.

"What the heck do you think you're DOING?"

Momentarily startled at the tone of his voice, Ire took a moment to reply.

"Uh... saving your butt. Look, your sniper rifle and your expertise is valuable. We could work together, try to get out of here. Head for the country. There'd be less of them there. What's... what's your name?"

The boy raised an eyebrow.

"Malc," he said finally. "I suppose we could work together. But we play by my rules."

Malc gestured towards a duffel bag. "My stuff. Do you have anything other than a gun and the clothes on your back?"

"I have a backpack. I..." Ire trailed off. "Crud, I left it in my car..."

Sighing, Malc grabbed his bag and started down the stairs, pausing at the bottom to look at me.

"They're starting to break in. Better hurry. We go to your car first, get your junk. Then we run to that van over there." He pointed at a white van across the street. "Think you can handle that?"

"Yes, certainly," Ire replied, determination in his voice.