Zombies, Death and Twisted Games
I honestly don't understand what they are trying to do. Is there anything more they can do against fucking zombies? They've tried toxic gasses, safety reserves, possible cures. They don't get that everyone's basically on their own now.
It's been weeks since I left Joey's house. He was the only reason I was staying with him and his friends and once he was changed I figured it would be pointless to stay. Just last week did I find this abandoned hut in the middle of nowhere. No sign of life has showed up since I moved in, so you can understand how fucking scared I was when I heard banging at the door.
The only weapon I had was the shovel I had to kill my father and cousin with. I picked it up and walked to the door. A fowl smell penetrated through the cracks in the wooden wall. Kicking the door open I saw someone I had dearly missed without even realizing it.
"Hi.
"Hi, Jimbo."
The last time I saw him he was becoming the new Joey. Tying up helpless zombies that used to be part of a family and making a game of their death. He looked so incredibly different that I had to recognize him by the symbol he shaved into his head the day before I left. Just above his right ear was a star missing the top arch inside a circle. It was their gang's "logo".
He was so much taller and filled out that he had to duck when coming into my small little safe house.
"Why are you here?" I asked with little confidence. I had seen what he did to those zombies.
*Flashback*
"Jim! What the fuck are you doing!" I had to run out the door as fast as I could to get there before it was too late. He had some kind of mechanism hooked up to the zombie's ears, slowing stretching them from his head until they eventually ripped off. The other boys had convinced him to use his accelerated academic skills to help take out the zombies but now they were deliberately torturing them.
"Shut up, cunt!" Gram shouted, shoving back. When I fell to the ground and scraped my hand against a broken glass bottle, Jimbo didn't even turn around to acknowledge my injury.
"Ahhhhhrrgh!" The zombies ears were ripped from his almost flattened skull. The boys burst into victorious laughter. I pushed myself up off the ground and ran towards Jimbo, slapping him in the face.
"What the hell, bitch?"
"Stop doing this!" I said, choking back panicked tears.
He stood there looking up at me still trying to think of what to say. Gram and Rory stood n either side of me waiting for orders from their leader.
"Eat shit," Jim said, crouching to pick up a zombie chunk to shove in my face. They all laughed while I stood wiping zombie juice from my face.
"Do you use that line on all the girls you wanna do?" I asked him, sarcastically. But as soon as I said it, I wanted to take it back. They ran after me all the way to my room. They screamed at me to open it but I never did. Eventually, they went back to their zombie games.
*End Flashback*
"Gram and Rory are gone," he says looking at his torn pathetic excuse for shoes. Before answering I went over to the kitchen part of the hut, getting him a washcloth.
"What makes you think I give a damn?"
He takes the wet rag and wipes the mud and guts from his face and shrugs. Neither one of us saying anything for some time. After he wiped himself off he walked through my home, inspecting everything. "You don't have much protection," he said when he reached the den area. I lifted the shovel to show him it's all I need.
"Here." He pulls out a mini uzi from the duffle bag he hung on his shoulder and handed it to me. "We need a bit more muscle in this place." Then he smiled the same old goofy smile that I loved.