A Broken World
Rachel A. Smith
Age: 17
Looks: Slightly tan skin, dark brown hair tied back in ponytail, light brown eyes, small scar on right ear, and bird tattoo on right side of collarbone
KR: Unnamed parents [deceased], Jeff Smith [older-brother, deceased]
Outfit: Tan cargo jacket, green tank top, black ripped jeans, brown belt, combat boots, one yin bracelet, and one yang bracelet
Ethnicity: White
Chapter 1: Caught
'Dammit,' I thought once I found one of my clamp traps. It was sitting with nothing in it on hard black dirt. This was the third day in a row that I'd found it empty.
"Now what?" I wondered out loud, "If I stay out here where there's no food to catch I'm dead. If I leave with no place to go I'm dead. I'm dead no matter what…"
I sighed and started to walk back toward camp for the night. It was about mid afternoon, probably four or so. Even though it wasn't late, I still wanted to get back to my camp so I could eat and see how much I still had in food supplies. I absentmindedly rubbed the small scar on my right ear as I walked.
No matter how many times I told myself it was going to be okay and I was going to get through this, I knew in the back of my mind that I wasn't going to be okay. I was going to die one day. I might not know how or when, but someday, it'll happen. All I knew what that I didn't want to turn into one of those things when I died.
Suddenly, an awful noise echoed through the forest off to my left, breaking me from my thoughts. I looked up as a small flock of birds flew over the treetops above me. The noise sounded like a cross between a screech and a birdcall.
'What was that?' I wondered as I looked to my left, 'It sounded like it came from my camp.'
I started to head off in the direction the sound came from. I hoped it wasn't a walker, but if it was, I had my hunting knife strapped to my thigh. I walked briskly, hopping over a log or two and a small creek. As I was walking, I realized that the noise hadn't come from the camp, but from one of my rope traps instead.
Immediately, I started to run. If what I heard was an animal, I would have something to eat for the night, but if not, I'd have to leave the part of Georgia I was in. I picked up speed as I leaped over a fallen log.
When I saw the familiar bushes that marked the entrance of a clearing with my trap, I slowed down. I didn't want to scare whatever was in the trap. Carefully, I got down in a crouch and slowly crept toward the edge of the clearing.
I was expecting noise from the captured animal, but instead, there was silence. Whatever it was might have killed itself by accident trying to escape, or it was just staying quiet. Slowly, I reached out and pushed away some branches so I could look into the clearing.
I sucked in a breath as my eyes landed on a red-faced boy dangling from his ankle in my trap. My eyes widened as I watched him sway slightly back and forth from the tree branch the rope was attached to.
'Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,' I kept thinking over and over. In my couple months of trapping and hunting, I'd never caught a human survivor. I'd caught loads of animals, and even a couple walkers, but never a human being.
I swallowed and slowly crept out from behind the bush and walked over to the boy. His eyes were closed, and he had a large bump near his temple. For a moment as I stood all the way up, I thought he was dead, and was going to turn any minute. But, when I got a little closer, I could hear ragged breathing. He must've passed out or something.
"Where did you come from?" I muttered to myself, "I thought I was the only one out here." I was pulled away from my thoughts when I looked at the boy's face. It was getting redder, like a tomato.
'The blood, rushing to his head,' I realized. I quickly jumped forward and took my hunting knife out of its sheath on my thigh. I lifted it to the rope and cut through it in a couple seconds. After the rope was cut, the boy fell to the dirt beneath with a thump. I winced, but the color from his face started to drain a little.
After breathing a sigh of relief, I knelt down next to the boy who was now lying on his back. Well, he wasn't exactly a boy. He looked my age, seventeen or eighteen. Looking at him, he didn't look like a bandit, a killer. He looked like a normal human being, or, as normal as you could look in the zombie apocalypse. He had a blue and white school jacket with a faded word I couldn't make out. He also had a red sweater, jeans, and converse. My eyes traveled up to his thin face.
He had brown hair that was messy and disheveled along with some stubble on his chin. He had the kind of rugged look with his hair, except his body didn't match the look with long lanky legs and a skinny torso. My eyes moved up near his temple and landed on the wound next to it. It was a deep gash that was bloody. Slowly, I got down and leaned over him to get a better look. It looked bad, very bad. As in the 'I need stiches,' kind of bad. I swallowed and looked down his body again. He had a bit of rope burn on his right ankle where the rope had been, but other then that and a few scratches here and there, he looked okay.
I looked back up at the wound on his head. Ever so slowly, I reached out and touched his skin just beneath it. He sucked in a deep ragged breath, but then relaxed at my touch. I retracted my hand and stood up. Somehow, I had to get him back to my camp so I could stitch him up. For some reason, I felt like I could trust him even though I didn't know him. The question now was how I was going to get him back to my camp that was about a half mile away.
Gently, I reached down and put my left arm under his knees and the other under his back. With a heave, I pulled him off the ground and into my arms. Immediately he slumped against me, almost knocking me to the ground. I grunted and tried to position him comfortably, but quickly stopped and started to walk in the direction of camp. Well, no, it was more of a shuffle then a walk. He must've been eating a lot where he was from, or it felt that way at least.
After a couple minutes of walking, I stopped and set him down on the ground to take a quick break. He was heavy, but I was sure it was just my tired arms. After a minute, I picked him up again and went off in the direction of my camp.
After a couple more minutes, it felt like my arms were going to fall off. I was about to take another break when I stepped between a couple trees and found myself at the edge of my camp. I smiled and walked with the boy over to my branch pile. Carefully, I laid him down next to the stack of wood on the dirt. My arms and legs ached, but I turned and headed toward the small shed next to my hunting shack.
In a couple feet, I reached the small shack. As soon as I opened it, I was hit with the stench of dead animals. I gagged a little. No matter how many times I'd opened the shed, I still hadn't gotten used to the stench. I started breathing through my mouth and took a step inside. On the right wall hung a couple deer pelts. I reached out and grabbed two before turning and walking outside.
Next to the pile of branches, the boy still slept. 'Man,' I thought, 'he must've hit his head pretty hard.' I walked over to him and knelt down beside him. With a shove, I flipped him over so he was laying on his belly. I grabbed the dear pelts and laid them down where he was a couple seconds before. When they were straightened out, I moved the boy back over onto his back on the pelts. They weren't much, but they would provide some cushioning.
I stood up and turned toward my hunting shack to go get matches and medical supplies. When I walked in, my stomach growled so loudly I thought it must've woken the boy outside. I bit my lip, waiting for any noise to come through the open door, but all was silent. I exhaled and walked to my left over to my supply closet. When I opened the door, I reached in and grabbed my gray backpack filled with medical supplies, my matches, a couple protein bars, and some beef jerky I still had leftover. I turned, closing the closet door behind me with my hip before setting off back outside.
Once I was by the boy again, I decided to make a fire first. I'd actually learned that walkers didn't like fire. They'd try to avoid it. While the boy was still sleeping, I knelt down by my stack of branches and grabbed a match. I struck it and soon, a nice sized fire was going.
Next to me, the boy stirred a little, but remained asleep. Slowly, I moved over and sat on my heels next to him. I'd only given another person one other time, and that was a small cut on her arm, not a big wound on the head. I swallowed and looked at the wound to see if the bleeding had slowed. Thankfully, it had.
Now that I had a good view of the wound, I saw it wasn't as bad a wound as I originally thought it had been. I turned and reached into my backpack. In a couple seconds, I found my cotton rag and hydrogen peroxide. I needed to clean his wound and make sure it wasn't infected.
After cleaning, I reached back into my backpack. I had to fish around a bit, but I was able to find my needle and thread. I took them out of the pack and turned back to the boy. His wound was clean and not super huge, but I still felt nervous. I hadn't stitched someone up in a little while. I forced myself to swallow the growing lump in my throat and start stitching the boy up.
At first, my hands shook a little, but soon, I got back into the rhythm. My parents had been doctors, so when I was younger, they'd taught me how to stitch up a wound. In a few minutes, the wound was all stitched up. For a good precaution, I put a large bandage over the wound to keep it covered.
Now that he was done, I moved away a bit and sat in front of the fire. Looking up at the sky I guessed it was about five, still a couple hours before it got dark. I quietly started singing to myself to pass the time away. "Distance," by Christina Perri, was one of my favorite songs.
"And I'll make sure, to keep my distance. Say I love you when you're not listening. And how long, can we keep this up, up, up?" I paused as I remembered the tune of the song. I didn't have the nicest voice, but it did help pass the time.
Next to me, the boy suddenly started raggedly breathing and moving his legs. I knew he was in REM sleep, Rapid Eye Movement. In that stage of sleep, the person dreams. I smirked a little as I heard him start talking under his breath.
"Not…lying," he muttered, "Bandits…I…no friend."
I glanced over at him. He was sweating and his muscles were extremely tense. By the looks of it, he was having a pretty bad nightmare. Slowly, I moved over to him and gently placed a hand on his arm.
"Hey," I said, gently shaking his sweaty arm, "wake up. Snap out of it. Wakey, wakey. Come on, wake up. It's just a nightmare."
The boy stopped moving, but his muscles remained stiff and his breathing harsh. Suddenly, his eyes flew open and he took in a strangled breath as he flew up. I jumped and flew back on my butt into the dirt. He looked around wildly, his gray-blue eyes wide and scared. After a couple seconds, he groaned and grabbed at his head.
"My…head," he groaned as he laid back down on the pelts. I exhaled and slowly went over to him.
"Are you alright?" I asked softly. The boy opened his eyes and gasped.
He started to sit up again, but I put a hand on his chest to keep him down. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you." His eyes remained wide and fearful, but he stayed on the pelts.
"Who, where-"
"Don't worry, you're safe now. I brought you to my camp and stitched up your head." Instantly the boy's hands were up at his left temple. He felt the bandage and brought them back down.
"Who are you and why did you bring me here?" he asked rubbing his head.
"I'm Rachel, and I brought you here because I found you. I thought I was the only one around here, but I guess you proved me wrong. What were you doing out there anyway?"
"My group is low on food, so I went out looking for some. I'm Ben, by the way."
"Well Ben, you won't find anything out here except me. As far as I know, I'm the only one around here."
We were silent for a little bit. Ben continued to rub at his right temple that wasn't hurt. Slowly, I reached out and took his left hand that was closest to me. Immediately, he tensed up.
"What are you doing?" he asked, opening his eyes to look at me.
"Relax, I'm not gonna bite," I muttered. He narrowed his eyes a little, but relaxed and let me stretch out his arm. I held his hand in my own and started rubbing the middle of his palm with my thumb. Almost instantly, he relaxed. I continued to rub his palm for a little while.
"What are you doing?" he asked softly, his eyes still closed.
"It helps with headaches," I answered, "Does yours feel any better?"
"Ya, a lot."
I smiled and continued the work him palm for a couple moments. Slowly, I let go and moved his arm down onto the ground. Just as his arm touched the dirt, my stomach rumbled. I'd completely forgotten about the food I'd brought out.
I quickly turned and grabbed the two protein bars and beef jerky.
"Here," I started, "It's not much, but it'll hold you over." The boy opened his eyes and sat up slowly. I handed him a protein bar and set the bag of jerky between us. As soon as the boy had the bar he ripped it open and started gulping it down. I watched him engulf the whole thing in a matter of seconds.
When he finished, he lifted his fingers up to mouth and licked them. My eyebrows raised as I watched him. Ben looked up after a couple seconds and saw me staring.
"Oh," he started, his cheeks turning pink, "sorry. I haven't eaten in a day or two."
"It's okay," I said, beginning to unwrap my protein bar, "I just didn't realize you were that hungry, that's all." I took a bite of my bar and savored the chocolaty taste. In a minute, the bar was gone, and I felt a nice feeling spreading in body.
"Hey, Rachel?" Ben started.
I looked over at him. "Ya?"
"Why are you doing this for me? I mean, I'm grateful and everything, it's just… You don't know me or anything."
I thought about his question for a moment. "Well, for starters, you don't exactly look like a cutthroat. No offense. You don't look like the kind of guy who goes around with a group of bandits stealing from people. And, I feel like I owe you for catching you in my trap. I-"
"Wait," Ben said, cutting me off while he grabbed a couple pieces of jerky, "you caught me in your trap?"
"Uh, ya. You don't remember?"
Ben looked up at the darkening sky, like the answer would be up in the sky. I looked at his wound and realized something. Ben must've gotten a small concussion when he was in the trap. He must've smacked it on the tree or something. I'd seen it happen to other animals, I just never put two and two together until now.
"I can't really remember," Ben started, "I just remember going into the forest to look for food. It's all really fuzzy after that."
"Actually, I think I know what happened. I caught you in a rope trap Ben."
"What?!" Ben jumped, his eyes wide and fearful.
"No, no, no! It was an accident, I swear. I was in the forest and I heard this weird noise. I went to my trap and…you were dangling there. I think you knocked yourself out on the tree trunk and got a concussion."
Ben was quiet for a couple moments. "I think…I think you're right. Now that you say that, it's kinda coming back to me. It's fuzzy, but…I think you're telling the truth." He smiled at me and I smiled back.
For the next couple minutes we were quiet as we ate pieces of beef jerky. I had to admit, I was curious about where Ben came from and who his group was. But, his head must've been pounding, and I didn't want to pry, so I kept quiet besides my munching of jerky.
After another minute, both of us stopped eating and I resealed the bag. Despite almost going through the whole thing, at the moment, I couldn't care less. All I cared about was the full, warm feeling in my stomach.
"So," Ben started, "do you hunt out here?"
"Ya, or, at least I used to."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, almost all the animals have left the area, so I just go out and set up traps but I rarely catch anything anymore. I used to catch a lot of animals, or an occasional walker, but you're the first person I've caught. Sorry about that, again."
He glanced at me. "It's okay. I mean, I was given food for being caught in a trap which is nice." I smiled and giggled a little bit.
"What kind of traps do you have?"
"Rope traps and bear traps."
"Bear traps?"
"Those are the metal claw ones that clamp around your leg if you step to hard on one."
For a moment, Ben was silent. Then, he gave an audible gasp and stared at me with wide eyes.
"You, you!" he shouted shakily, "It was you!"
"What are you talking about?"
"You, you're the one who caught my teacher, the one who killed him!" Ben shouted, his pale face turner red.
"What?! No, no I swear that's not me! I've never caught another person before."
"He wasn't in the trap! It was just his leg!"
I swallowed my nausea at the thought of finding a human leg in a bear trap. "That wasn't me, Ben! I swear! There must be other hunters around here, or someone!"
"Prove it!" Ben yelled, his words a mixture of anger and fear, "Prove it was someone else!"
Both of us went silent. I started to frantically think, think of something, anything to prove I was innocent. In a couple seconds, I remembered something I hadn't in a long time.
"When I first moved out here, I went out into the forest to look for one of my rope traps. I ended up going the wrong way and I found myself in this clearing. It was strange because, there was a bear trap right in the middle. But, looking around, I saw it wasn't a place animals went. There were no bite marks on leaves or anything to show animals had gone there. It was like…like they weren't trying to catch animals…"
Ben was silent for a while. He looked at me in the eyes, and I stared back. "For some reason, I believe you," he said softly. I gave a small smile and stared at the fire. After a couple seconds, I looked up at the sky. It was dark, and stars were beginning to come out. I guessed it must've been about six or so.
"Well," I started with a small yawn, "I think I'm gonna go to bed. And I think you should do the same."
"But, it's not late at all."
"Doesn't matter. Your body needs to rest for your head to recover. Besides, don't you wanna get back to your group tomorrow?"
Ben nodded and both of us got up. Ben grabbed the deer pelts and we walked inside the cabin and I lit a lantern on the table with another match.
"You can sleep on the bed, Ben," I said looking at him. His skin looked tanner in the glow of the lantern.
He looked at me, his eyebrows raised slightly. "Are you sure? You look exhausted."
I chuckled under my breath. "Ya, I'm always tired. There really isn't a time I'm not in this world. And yes, you should sleep on the bed. You need sleep more then I do."
Ben nodded and walked over to the bed. He set the pelts down on the ground before taking his converse off and setting them on the floor as well. Slowly, he leaned back and snuggled up in the furs on the bed as he closed his eyes.
I walked over and took the pelts off the ground and brought them over to the other side of the cabin. I laid one down and sat on it as I took my combat boots off. My feet were sore and achy, but I ignored them. Once both boots were off, I walked over to the lantern and put it out.
The room instantly became inky black. With no moonlight thanks to the boarded up windows, I carefully found my way back to my pelts. In a couple seconds, I laid under one and on top of another.
"Goodnight, Ben," I whispered as I closed my eyes. Ben's response was his deep breathing. I curled up and imagined a world without zombies, one where I would live a normal life, one I wished was real.