I'd cleared much more road within the week I'd walked, but going up and down mountain hills and swerving with the highway made it take longer to reach my destination. I could be an impatient person sometimes, but only in extreme situations. Right now, I was only bothered by the fact that I was beginning to become surrounded by forest. I wouldn't find any food or water for a long while if the cities continued to be so spaced apart. I hadn't run into any more people though, which could be both a good thing and a bad.
I wanted so badly to look up and see my friends and family running up to me. I knew it wouldn't happen like that, but I still could use that as inspiration to keep going.
I'd stumbled upon another little town later that day, but didn't know if I should dare going down into it or not. It seemed to be pretty cleared out but that could just mean they were in buildings or waiting around the edge of the city in the forest. They'd have the field advantage since I couldn't see as easily in forest as they could.
With a breath, my feet began to go down the exit ramp. I was only going to skim the area close to the ramp, and take off back up it again. My pistol would stay in the holder on my belt. No noise would be made - hopefully.
There wasn't much time for second guessing what I did. I moved swiftly through the side roads and checked only a few shops. I had avoided every encounter with any of the undead, making sure to quietly move passed them if I were to see one. I was lucky enough to find some goldfish and another two bottles of water. I also grabbed another towel since I found it. Now I'd have one for myself and one for my machete.
I'd wasted a good three hours going down into the town and getting out of it, but I felt like it was worth it. I made myself only eat a handful of the goldfish, and slowly. I needed to save it. I had a little more food in my bag, but I wanted to save all I could. I had mentally agreed to let myself drink a fourth of a water bottle while the sun was still up, then only take sips again when night came. I also made plans to change into my other shorts.
I had one jacket/sweatshirt, two thin strapped shirts, two t-shirts, two pairs of shorts, and a pair of skinny jeans. Though I'd grabbed two pairs of shoes, I only wore the ones I had on now. I wanted to go through one pair before using the other. If it wasn't obvious, the backpack was a school bag, and was completely filled. I kept my shoes tied to the strap of the backpack, and they rested on top of it and against my back. I was careful to always have my machete in hand, though I had a sheath for it.
By night I had found a camper to sleep on top of. I usually tried my hardest to sleep on the roof of one when I could find them. They were almost as common as a mini van, but it was hard to find one that I could climb on top of. They were the safest places to sleep in my opinion because I could cover myself with my tarp and be completely hidden from anything wanting to get to me. Plus, the undead couldn't climb.
I was only ever able to sleep for a few hours a night. I'd set my alarm on my watch before I'd sleep so I'd only get around 6 hours. With the world the way it was now, that was more than enough.
So with my machete in hand and my legs curled around my bag, I pulled the tarp over my head and tried my hardest to find some form of rest.

.

My alarm went off at 5 and I was quick to wake and turn it off. I'd become a very light sleeper over the past few months.
My routine in the morning was more of a ritual. It was the same every morning, I'd wake, turn my alarm off, and not move for a good ten minutes before checking to see if it was clear. Then I'd quickly pack my things and change clothes if I wanted to. Afterwards, I'd eat a bit of food and drink a bit of water before getting on my way.
My routine usually took between an hour and an hour and a half. I didn't mind it though, because then the sun would start to come up when I left. I didn't like walking in the dark. I never felt safe. I was smart enough to know to not use a flashlight, but it wasted so much time at night. I knew I needed the time to relax and rest my body so I didn't overwork myself, but I was a fast paced person. Waiting around wasn't really my thing.
My morning was uneventful. I walked the highway more, marked things on my map as I passed them - such as if a city looked safe or if I should avoid it next time I come around - and found a new box of ammo for my pistol. It wasn't much, but every little bit counted. It could mean saving my life at one point.
I hadn't seen anyone, human or undead, until around 3 in the afternoon. A scream of panic came from my left and I was quick to hold my machete with both hands, becoming alert. I didn't see anyone, or anything for that matter. But the scream came again, followed by a few moans and a lot of rustling leaves. And lucky me, whoever was running was coming in my direction.
I wasn't going to be stupid and stand in the open to wait to see the situation, so I hid behind a car tire and leaned around the front of the vehicle to watch. Out of the forest came a boy that looked around my age and five undead.
Another strand of cursing came from him loudly and I knew I was screwed if I didn't do something. So after taking a breath, I ran out and grabbed him by the back of his collar and started dragging him off. He jumped and began to panic but was easy to drag along anyways.
"If you want to live you better start picking your feet up, stupid!"
I motioned for him to run ahead and knelt behind the front of another car, waiting for the fastest of them to reach me. I saw the boy turn around and watch me as I swung my machete at it's thighs, it falling to the ground in enough time for a loud clang to echo from my machete hitting concrete.
You couldn't kill an undead without bashing it's skull in, but it would be a hopeless head that couldn't do anything but whine if you cut it off. It was easier to do and took less time.
I evaluated the other four coming after us before running, grabbing the boy by the elbow and leading him forward again.
"There's a semi up here. I want you to climb in and take my bag with you. Don't come out, and don't try to be a hero, got it?"
I took my backpack off my back and handed it to him, shoving him forward. I stood so I could watch him get into the semi safely but keep an eye on the undead heading my way.
This was something I found fun if I wasn't going to be screwed trying to do it. The few that have seen me in action thought I was literally crazy because I didn't mind this. The rush was exciting.
I pulled the plastic face mask up from around my neck to cover my nose and mouth and swung my machete around in my hand before taking off towards the group. I jumped up onto a car and ran across the roofs, jumping down in front of the three that were ahead. The machete found the thighs of two of them before I jumped onto the car across from the path I was on, sliding across the top of it feet first and holding my weapon to the right of me, slicing through half of the neck of the third.
"Stupid bone doesn't wanna break? Seriously?" I growled, jumping over to the car on the path I was originally on and running at the straggler, putting my machete through it's mouth and into the back of it's throat.
A grin formed under my mask as I pulled my left foot behind it's knee and took it out, making him fall into the blade so I had to hold him up. When I saw the zombie with it's head half off come at me, I spun to put the one on my blade in front of me as a human shield. As it cleared the space between us, I kicked the one on my blade in the stomach, causing it to collide into the other. They stumbled, confused. I took this time to jump to the roof of the car nearby and finish the job on the half injured one. The only one still walking decided to take a grab at my feet and I fell backwards, the sudden strength surprising me. My feet kicked him off and I leaned forward, putting my machete through the top of it's skull.
"Serves you right for touching me," I pulled my blade out and jumped down, putting it into the skulls of the two crawling at me.
I huffed, a bit out of breath from the fun I had, and began to walk back to the semi. The boy hesitated before opening the door for me to climb in.
"Can you hand me the towel in there? Not the clean one, the dirty one," I pulled my mask back around my neck and took in a breath of fresh air.
He moved with a hint of fear as he got me the towel.
I was cleaning off my blade when he spoke for the first time.
"Are you going to kill me too?" His voice had a type of innocence to it. That wasn't something I expected from him. Yeah, I found him screaming bloody murder at a couple of undead, but anyone would do that. And he was yelling profanities. So an innocent voice was a bit surprising.
I grinned as I looked back down at my blade, finishing my work.
"No, I'm not going to kill you," My voice held amusement. It didn't seem to offend him though.
I wiped the blood off my mask and spread the towel across the dashboard to dry. Eventually, he talked again.
"How did you learn to do that?"
I looked to him for a long moment before standing to see what was in back of the semi. Luckily, there was a bunk bed free of any dead - or undead - people. A couple of empty beer cans and an empty dresser laid out in front of them.
"My dad trained me when I was little. I continued to teach myself after he passed away, and obtained my own style from it. Granted, I didn't go around killing people, but I did slice a couple of wood training dummies as part of my self teaching."
I turned back to the passenger seat and sat, taking my bag from him.
He was eyeing my gun the entire time I dug through the bag so I stopped and sighed, "You aren't holding my pistol. And yes, it is loaded. I don't use it unless totally necessary though, so I won't waste any bullets on you."
"I wasn't- Uhm, sorry."
I glanced over to him to see he was looking down. This was one strange boy.
I put my bag on the floor and turned to face him, holding out my hand.
"I'm Tessa. Tessa Grant."
He looked to my hand for a moment before shaking it.
"Jacob Reed. People call me Jake though."
"So, how old are you, Jake?"
I went back to digging through my bag while he answered.
"Eighteen. What about you?"
"Nineteen. Where's your family?" I finally found my water bottle and granola bars.
"Gone. I was with some people but.. We were surprised."
"Oh, that must suck," I handed him one of the granola bars and began to eat mine.
"Well, I didn't really know anyone. They were just nice enough to let me tag along with them. And thanks, I haven't eaten in a few days."
I shrugged, "You can take a couple sips of water too, but try not to drink too much, got it?"
I placed the water in one of the cup holders and leaned back, putting my feet on the dashboard.
"So uhm, I would've been dead if you hadn't killed those people."
I nodded, "They aren't people Jake, not anymore. But I know you would've. And if they didn't kill you and I was a bit more cruel, I would've killed you myself. Screaming is a sure way to get more to follow you, stupid."
"Well… anyways, thanks."
We ate the rest of our food in silence and he took a few sips of water. I could tell he had something he wanted to say, but wasn't. It rather annoyed me actually. This was a post-apocalyptic era now, being like this was a sure way to make you regret yourself when your time comes.
"Will you let me tag along with you?"
I looked over to him, contemplating for a long moment. I didn't want to leave the poor kid here. He could bring more undead my way if he decided to scream and run in my direction again, anyways. But I didn't like people that would hold me back.
"I'll do anything you say. And if I don't you can leave me for dead. But if I need help and I've done everything you've told me to do, it'd be good if you'd save me again.."
I bit my bottom lip before deciding.
"Sure, I guess. But you will do everything I tell you to. You won't whine. You won't scream. And you'll need to carry your own pack, so we'll need to find you one. I won't leave you behind unless you've gotten yourself into the situation by not following my orders. Anything we find, we share - food, water, blankets, and so on. Can you fight with anything?"
"Eh, not really," He seemed embarrassed for answering.
"Of course you don't," I breathed, rubbing my brow again.