Make Damn Sure
Prologue
"If nothing saves us from death, at least love should save us from life" - Pablo Neruda
Calm down.
Calm down and breathe.
Inhale through the nose, and exhale through the mouth.
Slowly. Quietly. Don't let them hear you.
It was one of the few things his no-good father had taught him when he was a boy, but the voice inside his head sounds just like his wife. It wasn't always like that; he'd grown up with the harsh words of his old man's taunts and insults constantly bouncing around in his head, but now the only voice he hears is his wife and she's telling him what he needed to do in order to get away from those freaks.
From his vantage point crouched low behind the first big ass shrub he'd ran across, he watched as the two… things… feasted on the doe he had spent all morning tracking. If he wasn't scared for his life, he would've been more pissed that he lost his game. He could see the neon green fletching of one of his arrows sticking out the chest of one of the freaks, and he knows that no man should have been able to stay up and function with that kind of injury.
He had been in the middle of packing up his camp and heading home when he heard the loud shuffle of leaves behind him, and while he's never going to admit it, he damn near had a heart attack at the sight of the two grown men covered in blood who were quickly lumbering towards him. He had warned them to stop where they were, but their only response was a mix of snarls and snapping jaws. He managed to get around them, but now he was too far away from his truck; he was too far away from his family.
Fuck, he needs to get back home.
The minutes continued to pass slowly as he kept watch of the two freaks tearing into the doe. He could spot his bow where he had left it on top off all of his gear and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave without it. It lay next to the doe's head, right by the bed of his truck. Without his bow the only weapon he had on him was his hunting knife, but he was willing to wager that he could take both geeks out if he moved fast enough.
Do or die time.
With one last deep, calming breath he stood from his hiding spot and slowly approached. The freaks were too preoccupied with their feast, so they didn't notice the the flash of his knife as he thrust it through the crown of the closer geek's head.
The feel of bone splintering beneath the spine of his blade and the spray of blood hit him simultaneously. He doesn't notice it at the time, but later he'll recall how the blood that hits him didn't feel as hot as it should've been (but by then he'll have put two and two together).
The force of impact shoots up his arm as the body immediately crumples like a ragdoll and becomes still; the other freak looks up at him with a snarl and a mouth full of torn flesh and sinew. Its face makes him recoil with disgust: waxy pale skin with a grey tint to it and eyes seemingly shrunken into the skull are something straight out of a horror movie, and he barely manages to rip the blade out of the first monster's skull before having to take a step back as the other lunges at him.
He sidesteps and evades like a bullfighter and is able to slash at the back of its neck just as he felt its blue-tinged fingers grab at the fabric of his shirt. Like its companion, this freak falls heavily onto the ground, but unlike the other one, it continues to groan and work its jaws.
He steps over the paralyzed monster and grabs his bow before throwing his pack into the cab of his truck, not bothering to finish packing the rest of his stuff.
His biggest priority now is finding his family.
AN: Wow, that is a short prologue. I apologize for that, but I can say that I'm already working on the first full chapter, so more shall come soon.
AN 2: I edited this because I'm a bit of a perfectionist and I'm always tweaking my work.
