I was young, foolish, and scared. My lungs were in a terrible pain. I had no idea where I was going; I made a grave mistake by turning into the woods at night. I've staggered countless times, egging on the Biters that were feet behind us.
Johnny was crying, complaining about not being able to go further. I kept going, dragging him along. If we stopped now, we'd be in big trouble. The darkness was dangerous as it is, but with the Biters following us the way they were, hell-bent and ready for their next meal, there was no way we could stop.
I felt bad for the kid, really. He had just turned 6, and here he was having to grow up in this world. He was fully aware of the dangers, but he still was so full of childish innocence. So naïve and young. I'm only 8 years older than him, but my brain was developed enough and I read so many books and seen so many movies, I knew what to expect of this.
We staggered again. Breathing was hard, and with Johnny, who had just collapsed into a crying heap, I could tell we need to find a quick solution. I had my pocket knife, but I wouldn't be able to put down the small flock behind us. There was at least 6 Biters, too many to kill with one person using a 4 inch blade of a pocket knife.
We'd been dallying too long, I should have snatched him up when I had the chance. But I was bent at the waist, hands on my knees and trying to catch my breath. Adrenaline may be flowing through my veins, but it was still a lot of effort for me. I really should have paid attention and shot up when I heard the crackling of twigs under staggered footsteps.
"Ellie!" The scream bounced off the bark of the trees surrounding us. The voice that was usually so quiet and full of laughter screamed in terror. My head whipped up quickly in time to see the ghastly fingers curls around Johnny's arm, the yellowing teeth of the Biter inches away from getting him.
"Johnny!" Was that me? It was so loud, terrified. It made my throat hurt and my head pound. I hadn't ever killed a Biter. I'd always had the others of our group, the adults, to protect me. Why did I think it was a good idea to grab Johnny and run? I couldn't protect myself. What made me think I could protect him?
The air whooshed past me. A sudden arrow appeared in the Biters head, it fell to the ground and pulled Johnny with it. Oh, little Johnny. He was fine now. I was relieved, really I was. I rushed to Johnny, pulling him from the dead Biters grip and checking him over. I don't know what I was saying, I couldn't really tell. It was just a rush of words in a quivering voice. I was probably crying.
When I was sure Johnny was fine, I looked to where the arrow came from. Three figures stood, tall and proud. One had a gun and black curly hair. The other two is what stood out the most. The slouched man holding the crossbow, a vest over his chest. The other wearing a sheriffs uniform, right down to the hat.
I pulled Johnny toward me, and he grabbed onto my waist; afraid and probably in shock. I was still uncertain about meeting strangers, the last were bad people. But, my green eyes shone in the little light provided from the moon. Confusion, uncertainty, fear, but most of all relief and appreciation. "Thank you," I breathed out, tightening my grip on Johnny.
"Thank you."