Trigger warning: implied rape
"Dad?" A small voice asked, breaking the silence around the crackling fire. A heat creeped up my neck, resting in my cheeks. "Are you okay?" I looked down at the small body curled in my lap. There was no answer to the question. I glanced through the fire at the man, hunched over, clutching his stomach. Green eyes glancing back, embers flying from the fire, making them look sad.
"I'm fine." He mumbled at us.
The child in my lap pressed himself against me, gripping my shirt in a tight fist as a cold wind brushed our noses.
It was a chilly night, nothing we couldn't handle, although, it's only a sign that winters coming, then we'd have to worry. Grasshoppers could be heard in the distance singing their song of the night, hopping among the dryness of the forest floor. Rain hadn't graced us since everything fell, and things started rising, people.
It's been Dad, Lucas, and I, trying to survive. Through all this time, fighting day to day, I've come to realize something, a lie.
"Old dogs can't learn new tricks." That old saying was never applied to this situation.
People change after they get hurt.
Before all this happened, before people started dying, we were happy. Mom was with us then, keeping the balance, being the glue that held us together.
But she didn't last long.
She was trying to protect us, Lukas and I.
There was a group of men, five or six of them, filthy and dressed in rags. They looked us up and down, licking their lips hungrily. They found us at our camp, as I held a sleeping Lukas in our tent. Mom was outside, tending to the fire, and Dad had gone to go hunting for anything to eat.
It was sudden. They ran from the forest in groups of 3 or 4, tackling Mom and pinning her to the ground.
"Run, Jonah!" She yelled at me before her mouth was covered.
I got to my feet as quickly as I could, running towards the forest in an attempt to protect myself and Lukas, but I ran into one of the men, my face colliding with his stomach. I clutched onto Lukas as I landed on the ground violently, the breath getting knocked out of me. I tried to set up quickly, failing and falling back as I kicked myself away from the strange man. Lukas was awake now, crying silently into my chest. A 12 year old could only be so big, and trying to protect a 6 year old that I could hardly hold was proving to be difficult. Another man walked behind us, grabbing me by the collar of my flannel and pulling me to my feet. It had only been about 6 months since the outbreak, but the men looked as if they'd been out here for years. Their teeth were a horrible yellow, yet they smiled big smiles at us. There skin and nails were filthy, and they were covered in dry blood, hopefully from the walkers. I was pushed, more so pulled, to join my mother. I was thrown down, landing harshly, still holding a crying Lukas tightly.
"Mom?!" I cried desperately.
"Shut it!" A man yelled at Mom. She was screaming, so loud and so shrill that I thought she'd never talk again. "We'll give you something to scream about lady if you want to be that way!" One of the men who pinned her down threatened, grabbing her by the jaw and turning her head towards us. "Those two look pretty good too, looks like the older ones got some of your looks." He taunted, licking his lips hungrily.
With my head down, and body balled up around Lukas, my eyes scanned the group of men cautiously, counting faces and pairs of shoes. Blood trickled down my chin, a sizable gash from hitting the mans belt buckle.
11.
Eleven men, preying on us like lions and gazelles. I made eye contact with my mother, her hazel eyes glimmering beautifully in the light of the fire, tears streaking her face, across the bridge of her nose, and soaking into the ground beneath her head. One of the three men had his hand on her head, pressing her harshly into the ground, his knee on her lower back. Another held her hands to her sides, in the process of tying them together, and another at her ankles, doing the same. As I looked at her, I noticed that I was crying too, shaking.
"Bring them somewhere else." A man said, who I assumed was the leader. He had black hair that had grown past his shoulders, dark brown eyes that came off as black, and a scar through his right eye. He was covered in so much dirt it was impossible to tell his race. One of the smaller men of the group came up to us, grabbing me under my arms and pulling me to my feet, surprisingly gentle as he did it.
"See? We aren't all that bad." Someone teased as we were led away. "We won't let them see you like this." They told Mom, and as I was led away with Lukas in my arms, tearing cloth could be heard, followed by muffled screams and laughter.
I used my shoulders to wipe my eyes, still cradling a now quiet Lukas. We went far enough to where we couldn't see the group, but we could still hear the feint screaming and loud laughing. The one that brought us out here didn't look like a man, he looked about 18 at most. Maybe that's why he got saddled with us. He knelt down and met my eyes, looking into my hazel-green, as I looked at his brown. He ruffled my hair fatherly, and stood back up, a small smirk as he walked over to a log and sat down.
Gunshots scared us out of our skin, the boy almost tripping but catching himself as he spun around, running back to his group.
I stood there, watching him run off, not caring about what would happen to us. As he ran to the right, I turned and walked up the hill to my left, circling back around to our camp. Peaking from behind trees, I watched as everything unfolded.
Dad had come back, and overcome by the emotions of seeing his wife violated, he went insane.
He slaughtered them all.
I walked out from the trees once it was safer. Dad was killing the last two men, blood flying everywhere. I stopped on the opposite side of the fire, watching as Dad savagely tore into the men. Shocked at his splattered more as he continued to bash the decapitated head in with a machete. Blood sprayed, hitting me in the face, making me back up to get away.
Dad heard the leaves as I staggered around the fire, turning quickly to see Lukas in my arms, and I, with blood on my cheek. Our eyes met and locked on each other, then he ran to moms side, and as I looked at her, I noticed something new.
A knife was plunged into her back, severing her spine, blood ruining the blue shirt she had worn, leaves sticking to the tears and blood that ran from her face, eyes open and red. Lukas didn't look up, my hand keeping him pressed into my chest.
I didn't want to look anymore, I didn't want to believe that this had happened.
But I couldn't stop. Dad closed moms eyes and adjusted her pants, removing the knife and throwing it to the side.
I looked at the knife laying in front of me, dirt clung to it, to the blood, and the light from the fire reflected brilliantly off it.
Dad kneeled there for a while, grieving over Mom. "Pack your bag." He said bluntly, no hint of emotion in his voice. I did as I was told, gathering our blankets, the tent, and some family photos that mom had saved from the house. Singe marks were visible at the edges, but they weren't bad.
I grabbed the knife when dad wasn't looking, deciding that we'd need the protection if people like this came after us again
Dad covered her with a blanket, unable to dig a grave for lack of a shovel. He used his machete and did what he needed to so that she wouldn't come back, a walker.
I was drained, physically and emotionally. I couldn't cry more if I wanted to.
Dad extinguished the fire, took the bag roughly from my hands, and we left under the light of the sun rise.
"Mom likes sunrises." Lukas stated innocently from my back.
Dad stopped suddenly, putting a hand on my chest and forcing me to stop.
"Don't ever mention her again." He seethed though his teeth, right into Lukas' face. He got an offended and confused look from us as we looked him in the eyes, and for the first time in our lives, we were scared of him. "Understand?" He yelled. We nodded quickly, and he backed up from our faces, turned, and continued walking. I followed him, avoiding getting too close and upsetting him again.
We walked for hours, finally stumbling,
literally, into a town. Lukas got down onto his on feet, holding my hand, or rather, three of my fingers, in his tiny fist.
The streets were littered with tattered paper, lost clothes, and bullet casings we would kick by accident. On top of all that, blood, impossible to tell if it was from a living person or a living dead. From the outskirts of the small town, we could see 4 walkers stumbling about, groaning and decaying away. Dad immediately unsheathed his machete, making a bee line straight for the walkers. He raised his arm and brought the machete down on the walkers head, blood spraying from its head. He used his foot to free his machete, kicking the walker away. As he reared his arm up, ready to attack the next walker that was now charging at him, another appeared behind him, ready to sink its teeth into his arm.
I was there before it had the chance. I kicked its knee, sending it crashing to the ground, swearing to god I just heard its bones cracking. I plunged the knife I had gotten from the campsite into its head, the walker going limo and sliding right off the blade. Once Dad had taken out the other two he looked to Lukas and I. He eyed me up and down, his eyes traveling slowly along the knife.
He realized where it had come from.
But he wasn't mad. He continued to look at me, my once white shirt now stained a reddish-brown from the amount of walkers I'd killed and the time I spent laying on the ground. My hands were now covered in blood, and bright red spots now covered my face.
I looked like a monster.
I stood confidently, the knife gripped dangerously in my hand. I hadn't realized how void I was of feeling for these creatures.
They were once people too.
They aren't anymore, so who cares?
Lukas grabbed my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts, and finding safety in it.
Dad looked away quickly, trying to find anything else to look at. He was mildly disturbed at the sight of his son in such a way, but he wouldn't say that, it wouldn't be real if he didn't say it.
"Come on." Dad beckoned to us, waving for us to come closer.
He picked a building to clear out first, a pharmacy, and we entered through the shattered glass doors. His machete was at his chest, ready to strike anything that dared to come at us. I gripped my knife tightly, ready to protect Lukas. There were two walkers in the store, and after we killed them, Dad barricaded the front doors.
The sun set slowly, and we were able to actually sleep in a building for once, instead of on a forest floor. I looked around the store, my bag on one shoulder as I shoveled supplies into it. A couple protein bars, packs of trail mix, saltine crackers, some canned fruit, and some water. Someone must have been there before us, because I found a belt with a sheath, and my knife fit perfectly. When I came back to where we were sleeping for the night, Lukas was laying cuddled in some blankets, watching the small fire that Dad had set dance in the darkness.
"Dad went to go see what medicine is here." Lukas said, barely above a whisper. He was fading to sleep.
I tossed a protein bar and miniature water bottle his way, both landing inches from his face. He jumped slightly, narrowing his eyes at me as he sat up. "That's not funny." He said, trying, and failing, to hide his smirk.
"Yeah yeah." I said, also failing to hide my smile. I grabbed myself a protein bar and a miniature water bottle, sitting down, and waiting for Dad to return.
10 minutes later I could hear him making his way back. My head had started to dip as I started to fall asleep.
"Hey." He whispered to me, seeing that Lukas was already fast asleep.
I made a low grunting sound, my gears starting back up again. "What'd you find?" I asked quietly.
"Pain meds, Tylenol, antiseptic, bandages, a trauma kit, and a couple books that could be helpful." He passed his bag towards me, and I did the same with mine. "Damn!" He exclaimed, almost too loudly.
I smiled at his reaction as he pulled out the same as me and Lukas and dug in. I grabbed the books from his bag before sliding it back to him. One went over basic emergency situations and how to handle them. Drowning, heart attack, the heimlech maneuver, seizures, things like that. The other went over how to use a trauma kit, like doing sutures on a bad cut, sterilizing, preventing infection, and cauterizing wounds. I read aloud until Dad fell asleep, then I continued to read to myself, getting completely and utterly immersed in the knowledge.
I don't remember laying down, but I woke up under the covers, Lukas snuggled into my chest. I sat up, careful not to wake Lukas, he needed whatever sleep he could get. The fire was out, and Dad was gone. His bag sat against the nearby shelf, and his blankets were still strewn across the ground on the other side of Lukas.
"Dad?!" I called quietly, the echoing bouncing off the metal shelves.
I heard rustling paper, and Dad came walking around the corner, a smile spread across his face. He handed the papers to me. The books from last night were summed up, organized, compact, and ready for us to use them if we needed to. Dad had even slipped them into a laminate sheath just in case we ran into a massive amount of water. We both shared a quiet laugh, and I noticed how when Dad looked out of the windows at the sun rise, he got sad, and his smile faded. Before I knew what I was doing myself, I was hugging him. My arms wrapped around his torso, and his wrapped around me.
"I love you, Dad." I said into his chest.
A hand rubbed my back, and the other held my head. "I love you too, Kiddo."
We'd gotten everything packed back, even finding Lukas his own backpack. It was red, and, coincidentally, had an "L" stenciled onto it in a fancy font.
"Splitting the load will help us move faster." I explained as I helped Lukas put his arms through the red straps.
"Okay, and I get to use my backpack." He replied with a smile.
"A boy happy with few things." Mom would call him.
"Let's head out." Dad said. "It's safe out there right now, nothing that I could see." He moved the shelves, and we were back on the road.
My right hand stayed balanced on my knife, ready to unsheathe at any moment, while my left stayed with Lukas. Dad was less conspicuous with his weapon. He neglected to tell me yesterday and this morning about the gun he had found under the counter.
We moved on to the next building, a sports store. Dad said we already had enough stuff in our packs, but we needed to get some extra protection. There was surprisingly no walkers in the store, but Dad still took the necessary cautions; blocking the door and moving shelves to block other entrances. Dad took Lukas with him to fit him with guards, and I went on my lonesome to the archery department. Scanning the shelves, I grabbed what I was looking for. Arm guards. I grabbed a couple pairs, one for me one for dad and another for Lukas. Walking from department to department, I grabbed different protective gear that would prevent walkers from taking a chunk out of my arm or leg. Meeting back up with dad, he threw something at me. A shirt and a pullover hoodie. The shirt was a long sleeve red, and the hoodie was black with white letters that read: "I don't usually run, so if you see me running you should too, because something's coming." We all had a good laugh at that. I changed, first my shirt, then putting on the chest guard and arm guards, then my hoodie. Lukas also bore a new shirt. Blue long sleeve shirt that read: "Underdog." The red hoodie that Dad had gotten for him was stuffed into his bag. "It's too hot right now." Lukas had said. Dad finished putting his own gear own, and we left the store, deciding to finally leave the town before something bad rolls in.