A/N: Hope you enjoy!
My feet smack against the dirt ground below me as I weave around trees. The pounding sounds of Callie and Rusty's paws come from either side of me. My breathing comes in heavy pants. My backpack bounces against my back and I hold the straps tightly in my hands, refusing to lose my supplies as I hurry back to my truck.
I've just stolen supplies from some random camp. Before the world became a feeding frenzy for the dead, I had never stolen anything in my life. I had never done anything illegal. Now though, I do something illegal every day it seems. Looting. Stealing. Hot wiring. Killing. I live in a world where there are no laws. You can do whatever you want. There are no cops to stop you... or help you.
I know that it won't take more than a few minutes before the camp realizes that they're missing a gun, bullets, and a good amount of food. It's highly likely that they will go on a search for the person who robbed them. I plan to be long gone by then.
The camp was made up of 3 men and 2 women. Apparently they weren't very bright, leaving their supplies unattended like they had. They must've assumed that because it was broad daylight, nobody would try anything. That was a bad call on their part. All I'd had to do was hide in the trees and wait for an opening to get what I needed.
Callie and Rusty jump high over a large fallen tree limb and pause, waiting for me to do the same. I have to climb over it as it's too large for me to jump over or run under. When my feet hit the ground, I stop to assess my surroundings.
To my left I can hear the lake that I know for a fact runs on for miles (thanks to the map in my bag). The highway where I parked is to the right of the lake. I look down at Callie and Rusty. They stare up at me, their tounges hanging out of their open mouths as they pant.
"Not much further," I whisper to them. I turn to the right and take off in a run again, moving further and further away from the creek, where I know the road will be.
The comforting sound of my dogs' paws start up again, taking their places on either side of me. After a minute or two, Rusty - who is on my right - suddenly growls low in his throat, a bark following after, and the hair on his back stands straight up. Callie mimicks his actions barely a second later.
I slow down slightly. Their actions mean only one thing - one of the dead is close by. My eyes search everywhere, looking for the moaner that has set them on edge.
I have to squint to see it but when I do, I pull my bow from my shoulder and an arrow from the quiver on my back. My bag makes it a bit difficult to do so but I get the arrow quickly. It is directly in front of me, about 25 or so feet away. Slowing down into a jog, I line up the arrow and pull the string back towards my chin, aiming at it.
Inhale, exhale, release.
The arrow flies through the open woods and impales in the back of the moaner's head, it's body falling to the ground.
I look at my companions to make sure no more of the infected are close by. They've noticeably calmed down, their hair no longer sticking up and their tails wagging happily as they run.
I shoulder my bow and pick up my fast pace again, only slowing down to pull my arrow from the dead moaner's head.
After maybe 5 more minutes, I start to see the hill that leads up to the highway. I'm about 15 feet away when Callie and Rusty start growling again. Only it's much worse this time. Their tails flick tensely back and forth. Their ears stand straight up, along with their hair. Their teeth are bared. They are so tense and growling so deep their bodies are shaking. They've stopped running. I know that whatever we just almost ran into, it is bad. I slow to a walk, taking in a deep breath.
We walk a few more feet closer and then I instruct them to sit. I begrudgingly walk to the tree line, knowing I'm going to see something I really don't want to see.
I peek around the tree, taking much care to keep myself in the shadows, and can't believe what's in front of my eyes.
The biggest herd I have ever seen is on the highway.