I heard Jacob slam the door shut as I placed both of our bikes in the bed of the truck. As I slammed the bed door shut, Jacob walked over and ruffled his short brown hair. In one hand was the keys to the car, the other was the pistol he was using the day.

"We'll do a drive through Fort Benning before we hit your house. We need to find a gun store and get more ammo, and some medicine." Jacob said aloud as he pulled out the map in the front seat of the car. I fixed my bangs to the side and away from my eyes as I saw where he was drawing the red pen on the map. I saw where he wanted to do, and since I grew up in the area I knew that right place to hit in order to get what we needed.

"The drug store here on Benning Road is good for medicine material. And I know up here on Lumpkin Road there is a Gun Store that has a big variety of bullets." I explained to him as I placed my hands on my hips. I felt the cool morning wind coming through the area, having me look up and notice that it was the fall wind that was making me cringe. It was late October now, close to Halloween and I could see the autumn leaves falling. They still lived while the rest of us suffered.

"Right, let's get to it." Jacob said aloud as he folded up the map. I got in the truck and saw him get in the driver's seat. We drove out from the complex we stayed in for the night, turning onto the highway and down the deserted street. I placed my ankles on the window, having my boots dangle out the window and watch the colorful trees go by. The sun was barely coming through the forest as I looked over to Jacob, seeing him drive.

Jacob was a good 6 foot 4, very tall for his age. He was a big guy too, not big as in fat, but in muscle. His dark brown eyes contrasted his blond hair that was lighter than most blond are that I have seen. His height and size has over shown his warmth that he does have. Since we met when we started working together, I saw him more as a teddy bear than a giant of size and warrior-ness. I was getting to see him as a older brother of him, the kind that I never had growing up.

We arrived at the Drug store, the both of us getting out the truck and having our guns in hand in case of a Walker or two coming our way. I also grabbed my hoodie backpack, throwing it on as we got inside the drug store. It was my favorite item that I kept throughout the whole apocalypse. It was a typical backpack with a hoodie sewn to the top of it, givine me shade when it was shot or cover when it was dark.

As we suspected, it was deserted with not one person in sight. There were signs of looters that came through, since things were distorted around the area both on the floor and on the shelves. It was dark, the only light coming from the windows as we walked towards the back of the store.

"I'll get the drugs from here, why don't you go over to the gunstore. Take the bike, it'll be faster." Jacob said to me as we approached the pharmacy and saw a wide variety of pills there in front of us. I looked over at him for a second, then back out towards the front of the store were our truck was. The gun store was about a half mile away uphill, towards my Grandfather's house. If I were to leave him behind, he would have the truck and the weapons. And me? I was only going to have my bike, one pistol and my backpack to load bullets and other weapons we would find.

"Take the machete too with the holder, in case you run into trouble." Jacob said aloud in a grunt as he hopped over the counter and landed on the other side. I raised my eyebrow at him, seeing him smirk at me.

"What, you don't think I can't take care of myself out there with just one pistol?" I asked him aloud in a coy tone.

"You're fast, but can take on a Walker by yourself?" He asked me as I rearranged my backpack.

"Oh come now, you've seen me in action." I said back to him, knocking on the counter top with my knuckles and pointing to him, "I'll be back in 30 minutes."

"Done. Be careful." he said to me, having me nod my head and walk out the store. As I walked I heard him going through the pills on the counter. Walking to the bed of the truck I saw the sun getting higher in the sky, making it a bit warmer for me to handle. I pulled out my bike: a fixed gear dark blue bike with some dents in it from past injuries I inflicted on myself, thanks to the busyness of New York. I also got out the machete in it's holster and strapped it on my hip, feeling the heaviness of the machete on my right hip sink me down a bit as I got on my bike. Placing my foot on the pedal, I pushed off and flew down the highway.

When I ride my bike, I feel like I could fly fast than ever before. I'm a person who loves to go fast, very fast in fact. It's the reason why I chose to be a bike messenger in the first place: get in and get out. Something about being able to fly down on concrete with only a piece of metal holding you up: its thrilling. Even after every injury that I got on the job: running into taxis pulling out at the last minute or getting hit by a truck that was turning without seeing me. Every injury was worth it, it was to me. It was almost a badge of honor.

I flew up the hill and down the ways, turning a bit here and there until I saw the gun store in my sight. I knew I was going to be there faster than usual, since I was fast at riding than Jacob. I stopped the bike as I got close enough and hopped off with ease. Moving the bike with me, I opened the front door and placed the bike against the wall. I then threw out my machete from its holster and gripped it tightly, looking around me.

The place, like the drug store, was completely dead. There were looter that came through, but mostly got the bigger guns. I immediately went for the bullet section and browsed, seeing a few boxes of what we needed. I pulled off my backpack, unzipped the top and shoved the boxes in quickly. I looked around some more in case someone, or something, was going to sneak up behind me and try to get me. I've seen it happen before, and I was not going to let it happen to me.

Moving on, I saw the smaller pistols and the archery section. Raising a eyebrow, I walked over and placed the machete in its holster on my hip, seeing the nice bows there were on the display. There were at least two left, since the rest were looted. I was not good with bows and arrows, but I knew Jacob was since he was raised in the redneck section of Georgia. Bless him for getting out alive.

I grabbed one bow, and saw at least one full bow of arrows hiding in the corner and I snagged it as well, about to pick them up when I heard a growl behind me. I froze, not moving one step from where I was. I grasped the machete handle with my right hip, feeling the hardwood under my calloused palm and fingers. I was thinking fast in my head: Only one growl. There had to be at least one, maybe two. I can take them out, I've done it before. How was I going to do though? One swipe?

I heard the growl behind louder, it as getting closer. I gripped the handle tighter and I took in a deep breath, feeling the cool air against my open left hand by my jeans. In one swift motion, I shot up from my spot crouching on the floor, raised the machete behind my head and whirled around, swinging the machete and hearing the snapping of a neck, the falling of a body, and the splashing of blood. I felt the blood hit my arm and sleeve of my plaid shirt as the head fell to the floor after the body. The machete in my right hand was still in the air near my neck as I looked at the Walker on the floor, completely gone now. I immediately grabbed the box of arrows, the bow and placed the machete in my holster as I walked over to the bicycle.

This was my typical life now. Kill after kill, looting after looting. I saw nothing changing from this moment on, not until I saw a a car coming towards the gun shop. I froze in my spot, clutching my bike with one hand and the new weapons I looted in the other hand. I never saw another working car since the breakout. This one was a light green car, a nice one, with at least three people inside. Were they here looking for trouble? What if they see me? What would they do to me? I've encountered drifters who were after what we had for their own sake, thankfully Jacob took care of them so I would have to. But I was alone on this one, where was I going to go?

Immediately I looked behind me, backing away from being seen and pushing my bike with me down one of the aisles and into the back room. I got my bike inside, showing my new things with it and peeking out around the corner once more. I heard the car doors opening and closing, making me take in a deep breath once more as I knew they were coming in the same way I did.

They were looking for.

That's when I saw them fully: all three of them. One was a African American man, a slightly big guy who was bald and had the look of determination on his face. He was wielding a shotgun in his hand, standing next to another man. This man was shorter and skinnier, greasy hair swept to the side and a wild look in his eyes. He didn't like he shaved for weeks, wearing dirty clothes that included a leather vest over a cut off blue shirt. He looked like a redneck from the Georgia, that I knew of certain, since he had a crossbow in his hands that was armed and loaded. But the last one, the one man in the middle, was wearing a sherif outfit with a hat to boot.

Oh boy, what was I getting myself into