User blog:Ireithien/The Walking Jed - Chapter 4



Chapter 4

Malc drew the van to a stop on the curb outside the man’s house and killed the engine.

“C’mon!” he yelled.

Ire followed cautiously, pistol held out in front of him. Malc had pulled his sniper rifle up and was aiming at the nearest walkers, ready to fire.

The man turned towards them and gave them a curious look, then turned back just in time to slice off a walker’s head with his machete. He had black hair, wavy and brushed over in an odd quiff. He was well-built, being about six feet tall and looking to be in his early 30s. He wore boots of a leathery brown color, coming up to about his knees. Brown trousers, and a slightly darker waistcoat, buttoned up all the way, with a green overcoat over this. His head turned sharply as he fired his shotgun at the walkers. He was holding his own pretty well, Ire thought.

Malc ran up behind the nearest walker and smacked him on the back of the head. The unfortunate creature fell to the ground, then swiveled around to lash back up at Malc with its grimy hands outstretched.

A loud nose popped suddenly, causing Ire to hold his hands to his ears. The man had fired at the walker’s head, seemingly spurting blood all over Malc’s shirt and pants. The walker was completely lifeless. Ire rushed forward and leaped over the boxes the man had stacked up to create a basically effective barricade. He ran over next to the man.

Panting, Ire tried to speak. “Sir, I—“

He was cut off as Malc shot another walker, and then another, its truly dead corpse falling over the barricade.

The man shoved a booted foot straight into its head. “Darned things.” His face twisted into a grim smile of sorts as he shot and killed the last walker. He wiped blood off his forehead with his hand, then sat down on one of the barricade boxes.

“The name’s Theophilus Cropbarrel. SERGEANT Theophilus Cropbarrel. In fact, I’m SIR SERGEANT Theophilus Cropbarrel, if you want to get technical.” He leaned his gun on a box beside him.

“And what’s your deal, coming in here and shooting walkers like you own the place?” he asked, pointing at Ire.

“Well,” interjected Malc, who had just stepped over the low barricade and seated himself next to Ire, “we’re running low on bullets, and have like, two guns left: my sniper and his pistol. We noticed you have a shotgun, plenty of ammo, and what looks like indeed MORE guns,” he finished, gesturing at the pile of guns behind Theophilus. “Mr… Theophilus, was it?, you have something we need, and I don’t know what we have that could benefit you, but we can dang figure it out.”

Theophilus rubbed his chin. “First, call me Flux. No one calls me Theophilus on a regular basis, excepting my poor auntie. Second, why should I even help you poor shanks? Okay, you helped me kill a few walkers. ''Big deal. ''I could have done that in my sleep, ya’ll.” He paused, and narrowed his eyes. “Although… in case y’all haven’t figured it out, noise draws walkers. This here was a LOT of noise. We are not getting off easy. We need to move, and there’s no better alternative I can think of than to go with y’all. Consider me a part of your what, team.”

Malc looked over at Ire, then back at Flux. “Okay. That’s our van. Get your stuff, and let’s go.”