I
The breeze blows the stench of rotten flesh across my face and I catch myself before coughing and gagging. There's the sound of my leather glove rubbing against the handle of my dagger as I tighten my grip and the sound of grunting around the corner of the building I press my back against for cover. Judging by the noise made by the shuffling feet on cold pavement there is about four undead. I breathe in slowly through my lips and swing around the corner, getting one on the back of the head before any of them know what's going on. I duck under the outstretched arms of the second and third undead and slash them both on the back of the neck with one wide swing of my dagger, this cuts off their spinal cord to their brains and renders them useless. They both fall to the ground, still conscious but unmoving. I throw my weapon from where I stand and it lodges itself in the forehead of the last undead. I let out that breath I'd taken before and pause for a second before grabbing my dagger and flicking it clean of the thick dark blood that it's coated in. The two that lay conscious are no threat to anyone and so I leave them there to rot with the other two. I look through the darkened windows of the tall building I'd been standing behind. It's a clothes store. Looking down at my bloodied top, it seems about time I changed clothes. I hold my torch up against the glass and flick it on and off to grab the attention of any undead that might be inside. Nothing happens so I shoulder the door open with a bit of effort and after closing it behind me, go to one of the clothing racks. I grab the plainest black top there is and take off my jacket and the stained t-shirt I'd been wearing. There's some blood on my stomach from a fight a few hours ago and I wipe it off with another top from the racks. After changing my t-shirt and underwear I shove a pair of extra cloths into my backpack and pull my jacket on. Before the outbreak I was always so hygienic, it was a shower every morning for me. Man, I miss that luxury, now it's a fresh top and pants whenever I can get 'round to raiding a clothes shop. Most of the people I've come across so far have all smelled nearly as bad as the undead do. It's revolting. That thought reminds me to grab some deodorant from the cases near the checkout isle. I head over there, my hand at my thigh, where my dagger sits in its sheath, which was actually designed for a set of pistols, but I only have one handgun so the right 'scabbard' is for my dagger. There's no one around, so I grab two cans of deodorant and spray all over myself before bagging them. No way am I going to stink like everyone else in today's world.
Its about three pm when I head back out. The air is cold and sharp and bites at my cheeks and nose so I pull my scarf up over my mouth so I can breath against it and heat my face. I only wear my hood if I really feel the need to, when it's up there is a more likely chance of my missing something in the corners of my vision. If I wasn't paying attention an undead could walk right up beside me without my noticing. I hug the walls of the buildings as I walk along a widespread road. Right now I am closer to the center of the city than I am comfortable with, but a hoard of undead drove me this way and I'm afraid to go back incase they're still on the same path, so I'm finding a way around, back to the outskirts of Atlanta. I bring my left hand up to my mouth so I can breath some warm air on my fingers. A scream echoes off the walls of the buildings and I hear a high pitched cry for help. It sounds like a young girl or an even younger boy.
"Shit," I mutter, sprinting down the road. I grab my pistol from my left side and grip it in both hands as I edge towards the corner of the last building on the street. There's a wreckage of a lorry and a car. The front of the truck is dented and the windscreen smashed and dirtied while the car is turned on its side a few meters in front of the lorry. Near the car, about thirty meters away from me is a young girl. She lies on her back, her struggles growing ever weaker as an undead chomps at her intestines while she watches, still awake and terrified, but no longer able to speak. I walk out of my cover and to her side, once the undead notices me I put a bullet in its brain. But then there's the girl. She's staring at me with what looks like hope...like I can save her. I lift my gun again and shoot and her eyes have nothing to show but a cold, glazed-over look. There, in the corner of my eye. I duck and roll behind the upturned car. Someone is in the lorry. The door is open and there, I can see their feet. I aim my pistol carefully, if I can just graze his ankle it will make it hard for him to escape me but he won't be doomed to be eaten alive like the girl was. My gun goes off and I can almost hear the bullet fly through its target...right through. The man cries out and falls back, but instead of pausing to asses his wound, he scurries on his backside behind the large wheel of the truck for cover. I run over quickly and press my back to the wheel he's hiding behind.
"Come out, I won't kill you I just want to ask you some questions," I say and freeze for those few seconds he takes to make up his mind. Then there's the sound of him pulling himself back to the wheel, he'd been about to scoot over to the other side and make a run for it. Glad he reconsidered. I hold out my hand for him so he can get up and he takes it. I stand a few steps away from him with my gun back in its holster. I'm ready though, for any sudden movements.
"You... you shot me," he spoke shakily.
"Yeah, no shit. Just be glad I didn't hit you in any vital organs."
The man, he looks around thirty years old, stands leaning against the truck with his weight on his good leg. "You can take everything I have, just please don't kill me."
"I wasn't planning on killing you unless you gave me a reason to do so. Was that your friend back there? The girl?"
"Yes. Is she...I mean did she...dead, is she dead?" he sounds like he already knows the answer.
"An undead got to her, it had her insides laid out on the road. I put a bullet in her brain so she can't turn," I state, my tone factual and unsympathetic. "Are you alone now or with a group of some sort?"
The man hesitates and shifts his weight onto his bad foot, upon realising what he'd done he yelped and fell back onto his ass. "No, no group it was me and her that's all."
"Humph. You're lying," I say hatefully, holding up my hand in surrender. "Fine, don't tell me, that just proves your loyalty to your group. It's fine," I look down at his sweaty face, creased with pain, and sneer before walking off, further down the street. My gunshots surely caught the attention of every undead within a mile from here. That thought pushes my stride into a run and then into a sprint. It's been three years since the start of the outbreak, but that hasn't made the undead easier to be around. Some are savage and faster than you'd expect. If you're injured or caught off guard then there is a great chance of you becoming dinner. Speaking of, that guy i left behind doesn't stand much of a chance if he doesn't get inside somewhere safe.
A/N- I haven't written anything in over a year. If you like then please follow or review. I will update once a week for now. This is the opening chapter, the rest of the story is in second person POV. ^^