The two stared at each other for a few seconds. Sarah could hardly believe the change in the man's expression. When she first looked into his face she was immediately certain that his piercing eyes would be the last thing she saw before that blade bit into her flesh. It took less than a second for his face to change to a shy grin, accompanied by a warm voice that asked if she needed help. She instantly knew two things: he was fairly attractive, and very frightening. She was nervous, only resisting the urge to shout because she still had Mark's .45 in her hands. She quickly pointed it at the man.
Grant's grin widened into a smile, then a surprised laugh escaped from him. When he had first felt the impact of the small woman running into him, he wasn't sure what had happened. He only knew that he was somewhat annoyed. Then he realized he had been hit by a tiny red-haired girl, and his irritation had melted away. She was obviously terrified, somewhat bloody, and incredibly dirty. Dried mud covered her jeans and her shoes, and her face had maybe a half dozen cuts which he could see had only recently stopped bleeding. Her bright green eyes were wide with surprise, her lips pressed tightly together, and her button nose was covered in freckles. Grant decided to break the tension.
"I'm sorry, there must be a misunderstanding. I asked 'Do you need help', not 'Could you please do something about my horrible oxygen addiction?' I can understand the confusion, the two sound really similar."
Sarah said nothing at first, continuing to point the large handgun at the smiling man. Eventually she worked up the nerve to say "I'm not taking the gun off of you until I'm convinced you aren't dangerous."
Grant let out and exasperated sigh. He slowly lowered his weapon before dropping it to the ground. Then he slowly got on his knees in front of the prone woman. He looked at her for a moment. Then, faster than she would have thought possible, his hand shot out and grabbed her gun. She tried to pull the trigger, but it wouldn't budge. With mounting horror, she realized that the safety was on.
"Of course it is", she thought "Mark wouldn't have left it in his car otherwise."
Grant's other hand grabbed her wrist, and began to pull her forward. She kicked at the ground to get away, but he was just too strong. She closed her eyes as she slid forward and waited for him to tear the gun away from her, all the while imagining what horrible things lay in store for her at his hands. Suddenly, he stopped pulling and Sarah heard a small click. She opened her eyes.
The .45 was pressed to Grant's forehead, and his thumb had flipped the tiny switch that controlled the safety. Sarah looked at him in confusion, and their eyes met. His sky blue eyes seemed much like they did a moment ago, looking through her with terrifying coldness. This time, however, they also seemed just a little bit sad.
"I am dangerous. You could tell that from the second you looked at me. But I swear by all that's holy I don't pose any threat to you. I'm not out here hunting for scared women. If you don't believe me, pull the trigger and put all your fears to rest." He said with a small, tired smile.
Sarah was taken aback. This was insane. He was insane. But she found herself believing what he had told her. Even if he was lying, she could always shoot him later if he did prove dangerous. The fact that she even thought of that made her ashamed of herself. She gave him another hard look before lowering the gun. Grant's face reclaimed his original grin and sunny look. He stood up and helped Sarah to her feet before grabbing his kaiser blade. Several awkward moments passed.
"So...are you hungry? I've got some cans of chili, green beans, and pineapple in the duffel bag. Water too, if you're thirsty." Grant offered.
"Look, I was running from zombies, ok? They'll be here any minute, we have to get out of here before..."
Grant cut her off.
"Zombies?" he started "...Yeah, I hadn't really thought about it. They ARE zombies, aren't they. Huh." He said with a laugh. Sarah stared at him for a second in confusion.
"Wh-What have you been calling them?" she asked with a hit of confusion and a few more thoughts about his sanity.
"You know, a combination of 'fucker, ass-wipe, maggot wagon, hey you' and 'rotting douche-bag.' I guess I was more worried about killing them then naming them." he said with a level look.
Suddenly, hoarse moans drifted through the air. Their conversation stopped at once. Grant's irritated look returned.
"How many, and how far apart?" He asked without looking at Sarah. His tone made the words sound more like a statement than a question, his voice suddenly becoming hard as steel.
"Um...about a dozen, and they were spread pretty wide. A few were kinda grouped in the middle..." She suddenly noticed the angry look Grant was giving her. "About five were in the middle group and I don't know how far apart they are, ok?" she practically yelled at him.
"Stay here. Eat one can of the green beans, slowly. I'll be back." Grant said, the kaiser blade resting on his shoulder again as he strode off towards the noise.
"Where are you going?" Sarah was a little embarrassed that she was that scared of being alone again. Grant kept walking.
"You said there were twelve or so zombies over here. I'm going to take care of them. Won't take long." he said without turning around.
Sarah watched him walk away. After he disappeared from sight, she poked through his bag. She saw about twenty cans of food, and fifteen or so bulky brown packages. Inspecting one, she saw large letters; MRE, Meal Ready to Eat. There were three different meals, five of each. She put the package back, and rooted around until she found the can of green beans and the can opener. She briefly wondered why she was listening to the strange man on her choice of food, but was too exhausted to think about it. The bag had small side compartments that held miscellaneous objects, one of which was a fork. Sarah looked around nervously while she ate, thankful for the rest and the food. She noted that as more time passed, the fewer moans she could hear in the distance. By the time fifteen minutes had elapsed, the woods were silent; except for the sounds of crickets and a few birds. After what felt like an eternity, she could hear footsteps approaching.
"Thank you for the food...uh...I'm sorry, I never got your name." Sarah said. She heard no response, only the steady footsteps. She stopped chewing, her head whipping towards the sound. What was once an elderly woman stumbled towards her. One of its arms was outstretched to claw at Sarah, the other looked as though it had been torn away. She quickly put down her can and began to search around for her firearm. She found it quickly and spun around, trying to take aim at the creature. Her hands shook violently. She couldn't get a steady bead on it, and was fighting to control her furious heartbeat and urge to flee. Just as she was squeezing the trigger she heard a wet, metallic noise. The zombie's head and body fell in separate directions, revealing a gore-splattered Grant behind it. Breathing slightly faster than normal, he raised an eyebrow and set his kaiser blade in its traditional resting spot on his shoulder. He stared at Sarah for a moment.
"Fifteen." he said.
"Excuse me?" she replied with confusion.
"There were fourteen damned zombies back there, and this last one makes fifteen. Is counting really that hard? Do you have working eyes? Did the zombies fucking breed while they were following you?" he said with mock anger.
"I said about a dozen you prick!" Sarah replied. She dully realized that she rarely spoke to anyone that way, even if they deserved it. Then again, she had never had a day quite as bad as this.
Grant didn't respond to her outburst, he only picked up the zombie's head by its hair and threw it away like it was a bit of garbage. Its teeth kept clacking together, Grant finding the sound much more irritating than the usual wailing the things made. Grabbing the fallen body's wrist, he easily pulled it a good distance away, out of sight. Grant returned, grabbing a can of pineapple chunks from his bag. While the two were eating, they both looked only at their food. Sarah finished first, and decided to examine the young man in detail.
He was six and a half feet of wiry muscle, close to two hundred pounds worth. Despite that, he seemed thin due to his unusual height. His eyes seemed completely ordinary when they weren't focused on her. She suspected they had an unsettling effect on everyone. She wondered about why he always seemed to stare. She watched him intently for a full minute before he blinked. His dark brown hair was nearly black, and combed neatly to the right. He wasn't wearing a shirt, only a leather jacket that was stained with bits of gore. His pale skin was covered in pink scars, some of which were a foot long. His hands and knuckles were more of the same. She thought back to how he flipped back and forth between emotionless and businesslike to friendly and talkative.
"I bet he had to learn to act friendly around people. That would point to some kind of high-functioning Autism. Then again, he has no trouble looking me in the eye or communicating so that doesn't fit." she thought. A chill ran down her spine at the second possibility. That the man standing in front of her could be a sociopath. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. The coldness, the lack of fear, his superficial charm when there was no immediate danger. She decided that she was over-thinking it, as new psychology students tend to do. Her pondering was interrupted by Grant clearing his throat.
"So Miss, what's your name?" He asked.
"I-it's Sarah." she said. As she said it, the man gave her an appraising look.
"Sarah, I'm Grant. Pleasure to meet you. Forgive me if this is a strange question to ask someone I just met, but are you any good with that gun?"he asked, his tone conversational. She thought for a moment.
"Well, kind of. Dad used to take me to the shooting range when I was younger. I'd be a decent shot if I could get my fear under control, you know?" she said with a laugh. Grant's blank look told her that no, he did not know.
"Well, I don't have a gun and even if I did, I am a terrible shot. So I was thinking, if you want, you and I could stick together for a while. I need to head into town, and I've been hearing gunshots as I've gotten closer. If some bastard starts shooting at me while I'm going about my business, I'd like someone who could take them down." he said. "Think you're up for it?"
Sarah considered her options. Traveling alone and with no plan or supplies was scary, but staying with a possible psycho seemed worse. But even if he turned out to be a complete loon, it was nice to have somebody that could keep a cool head at the idea of undead cannibals. Or really anybody at all. She reminded herself that he had done nothing to hurt her so far, and that he would have let her blow his brains out to prove a point. As bad as he seemed, Grant was better than nothing. She gave him another skeptical look before replying.
"I think so." she said with a faint smile. Grant smiled back. The pair stood up in unison and grabbed their weapons. Grant wore an expression that sent a chill up Sarah's spine.
"Well, let's go kick some ass."
