Crack!
I whirled around, a finger on the trigger , ready to shoot at any figure, shuffling or not.
"Whoa, whoa, it's me, it's me! Lower that gun!"
Sean's head appeared from behind an aspen tree. He was holding his hands up, waving them a little.
"It's just me. Just me" He bent down and massaged his ankle. "Bloody branches, I almost broke my ankle."
" What are you doing out here?" I was still getting used to this group and I did not know whom I should trust or not. In this new world, you hardly dare to trust anyone as even the meekest of people can turn into a backstabber.
" I've come to give you a hand. "
"With what?" I lowered the gun. If there was anyone dangerous in this group, it was highly unlikely that it was Sean. I tucked it in my waistband.
" With whatever you're doing". Sean gave me his cheekiest grin but I could see from the way he was clutching his rifle and fingering his trouser pocket flap that he was very nervous. It was something instinctual for him; I had noticed that he always kept his knife in his right- hand side trouser pocket. He must have become so used to being taken by surprise by the crazies that he unconsciously always expected an attack.
" I am looking for berries", I said, turning around and continuing on my way, trying to avoid trampling on branches as much as possible. "I am sick of eating canned food."
I could almost feel Sean raising an eyebrow behind me. "Well, you' d better get used to it. You may have to eat canned food for the rest of your life."
I didn't say anything . I was not in a particular chatty mood that morning. My friends used to say that I am a quiet one. They may have been right. But now I was almost absolutely certain that most of them were more quiet. Three of them certainly were. I had to put a bullet through their brain myself.
We continued trudging among thick bushes and fallen leaves. Sometimes, I caught myself walking on tiptoes. The forest can be your best friend or your worst enemy, and I learned to never trust the woodland. Even the slightest noise may alert the crazies to your presence and you would be done in a couple of minutes if you happen to be caught by surprise. Even worse, you may be heard by living people.
The day was beautiful and in a past life I would certainly have enjoyed it by calling in sick to work and then go for a picnic. It was warm, but not hot ,and no cloud could be seen from among the foliage. Sunlight sifted through the leaves, making parts of the forest glow . Only the birds could be heard as they chirruped and flew from branch to branch. It was almost magical , like a setting inspired by a Pre - Raphaelite painting.
Suddenly, there was a movement in a thicket nearby and I heard the noise of twigs snapping. Grabbing my gun, I looked at Sean and pointed a finger at the general area of where I had heard the noise. Sean nodded and gripped his rifle firmly. His weapon was old, (he once said that it had belonged to his grandfather) , but it was still very efficient and deadly. He brought it up against his shoulder.
We moved towards the bushes, treading slowly and furtively, knowing that our lives most certainly depended on it. I did not know whether it was a crazy or a living person, but I was hoping it was a crazy. At least, like that, I would only have to worry about not getting bitten. We were close to a particularly large bush when there was a sudden movement from behind it, and we found ourselves staring down the barrel of a crossbow and the barrel of a shotgun.