We walked along the long dirt road, keeping our eyes glued to the surrounding forest, and our senses high. A couple miles back, we had to take down a group of walkers, maybe 7 total. They had made a meal out of a dog. Lukas looked at the dog from a distance, his face twisted in disgust. "Ew." He commented.
As we continued walking, I couldn't help but to wonder if we'd ever find a place to finally settle.
Lukas was eight now, taller, thinner, and tougher than a usual eight year old. He walked without holding my hand, deciding to toy with the handle of his small knife that dangled loosely from his belt. His hair has grown into a mess on his head, so has Dad's and mine.
"When I find some scissors, I'm going to cut this crap off our shoulders." He'd remark when the topic came up. Lukas and I would have a good laugh as he joked about cutting straight to the root.
We had a decent amount of supplies. Lukas had the majority of the food in his bag, spots of dried blood painted the once resilient surface, and the "L" was starting to peel. Me and Dad had a ration of food in our bags in case we got separated. Along with that, I had a first aid kit, instructions on how to treat various injuries in the laminated pouch, and some matches. Dad had everything else. Blankets, meds, ammo, etc. it's been almost two years since the world went to shit.
But we've survived.
I'm somehow content with this. I found myself thinking. I shook the thought out of my head, realizing how screwed up I am to be okay with this.Mom would be alive if this didn't happen. The voices continued. I gave Dad and Lukas a side look, wondering if they have voices in their heads to. I can see mom. She standing in the middle of the road a couple yards up. Her skin is glowing radiantly, the white blouse shes wearing reflects the light in a spectacular way and her hair flows in the wind gracefully.
Although.
I'm the only one who can see her. She doesn't talk to me, or move. She just stands there, hands crossed in front of her stomach, blinking, almost expectantly. I zone out when I see her, unable to hear Dad or Lukas talking to me, so immersed in her beauty. She's like a guardian angel.
When I first started seeing mom, it was only at times that I was sure I was a monster.
When Dad had found an abandoned gymnasium, we thought we would finally have a place to settle. It was big, it had steel doors, everything was perfect.
Except it wasn't.
There were other people, some guys, a couple women. They seemed alright at first, only there to scavenge. Dad was friendly with them, willing to make a group together. I was immediately on edge. They just didn't ring the right bells with me. I didn't sleep that night.
I set my blanket up with something under it, sneaking to the top of the bleachers to keep watch.
And what I hoped I was wrong about actually happened. Those people, who seemed so nice, came back. They didn't see me, hunting them like prey. My entire mind went blank, my face was emotionless, and the only thing I could think about was gutting them.
That's exactly what you did.
I snuck up on them, taking them out one by one. I took out the first three, slitting their throats and letting them fall to the ground. I used Dad's machete on the fourth, nearly severing their head from their body, as the machete got stuck, refusing to come out. I let it go, grabbing the gun from the now dead mans holster. I aimed, and I shot.
Three rounds.
One for each of them.
For the first time shooting at living beings, I was pretty good. My hand didn't shake as it raised the gun, I didn't even hesitate to pull the trigger. By the end of it, it was a bloodbath, except I was the only one painted in red. Dad and Lukas looked at me, as if I was insane.
You are, must be. "Shut up." I thought to the voices.
I looked at my horrified family, returning a blank stare, eyes filled with something no 14 year old should ever have.
Bloodlust.
The voices in my head wouldn't stop talking, the tension in the room making me feel dizzy. That was fun, can't wait to do it again! I clenched my jaw, feeling the blood dripping and running down my face. I couldn't react, I didn't know how. My face was twisted in anger, I could feel my pupils dilating as I looked at my massacre.
That's when I saw her.
She.
Was.
Perfect.
She was my mother. She stood in the corner of the gym, like the moon in the night sky. The way she was dressed, the definition of pure. Her angelic apparition looked at me, her eyebrows scrunched up in the middle, concerned. Her eyes were glassy, like she was going to cry. Because of you. The voices taunted at me.
She disappeared just as fast as she had come. Leaving an empty wall, and me wondering if I was actually going crazy.
"I did what I had to." I said bluntly to the two concerned, yet scared, bodies that sat on the floor.
But this wasn't the first time they had seen me this way.
When we took out walkers, I'd have this look in my eyes, a look of enjoyment. It wasn't until we had finished clearing out a building that I realized I had a big smile on my face, and that for the first time since we lost everything... I was happy, I was happy to be killing.
Late at night, when we couldn't sleep, Dad would get all philosophical.
"What if the walkers are still people on the inside? Like... their soul are still their, watching what they do, but they can't control it. And then us killing them... they could feel every shot we miss, and they feel the guilt of what their doing to others, but they can't help it, because they're not in control." I didn't know how to respond to such a thing, so I sat quietly, the thought of that looming over my head. After killing walkers, I immediately thought back to that conversation, looking at the corpses and imagining a intangible spirit floating out of them, joining the rest of their family in heaven, or whatever was actually out there. Moms alone then. The voices butted in, only to be ignored.
On our travels, I would be the one taking out the majority of the walkers, taking the risks to ensure we'd get what we needed. Dad takes risks, but not 'jump a fence into an obvious group of walkers' risk. Yes. I did do that. I came to my own conclusion that I just don't care anymore, about killing walkers, killing people, and nearly getting myself killed.
"Maybe I'm suicidal and I just don't know it." I laughed silently to my thought.
My hand is balanced on the glock that I've used to kill over 20 men. I had started counting but I got lazy and stopped. I had scratched them onto the handle, 4 sets of tally marks. While walking I'd find myself stroking them with my thumb, finding satisfaction in the jagged grooves.
I'm snapped out of my trance-like state.
Screaming.
Blood curdling.
Gut wrenching.
Screaming.
We can't tell where it's coming from. It's echoing off the buildings. As soon as I realize it's a woman, I immediately think of Mom, on that night, when she fought and screamed and kicked.
Panic.
Find her!
Save her!
The voices screamed at me. I looked to Dad and Lukas as they turned and whipped there heads around, looking for a source.
BANG!
What sounded like a gunshot shocked the space we were in, plunging us into a terrible silence. My neck could've snapped, I turned my head so fast.
That way! Go!
I took off, leaving Dad and Lukas behind. I was the fastest of us all. I could hear their shoes slapping the pavement behind me, no where close to catching up. It felt like I was flying, like my feet were barely even touching the ground. As I ran, I looked down all the alley ways and streets I passed, looking for the source of that terrified screaming.
"DontbedeadDontbedead!" I repeated under my breath. I couldn't feel my legs anymore, the adrenaline doing its work inside my body.
I stopped when I came upon a bridge, cars, dusty, rusted, and painted in blood, stopped in different places all over it. Before Lukas and Dad could properly catch their breaths behind me, I kicked off again, hopping over the first car roof, sliding on another.
My knife was out now, ready to kill.
Ready to kill anything.
A truck sits parked on the bridge, It's long body nearly blocking the way through, except for a small space on both sides. I stop and consider my options, thinking of the consequences of what I was going to do now. I could potentially save someone, but then they could also turn on us. I bounced on my feet anxiously.
"Jonah! Stop!" I could hear Dad yelling to me. "You don't know what this is!" Closer now, almost with me.
I could see moving shadows on the other side of the truck, projecting from underneath the body.
Another scream.
Right.
There.
SAVE HER DAMNIT! The voices erupted.
YOU OWE HER FOR NOT DOING SOMETHING! They blamed.
I don't know what happened, something took over me. Instincts?
I darted behind the truck as my inner turmoil overflowed my mind. Static. That's the best way to describe it.
I finally found her. The source.
"Hey!" I screamed at the three figures that stood around the car it's a woman in it, who I presumed to be in distress. They all turned to me, slowly, and I suddenly felt like a trapped mouse.
At first, I couldn't wrap my head around it. She looked like mom, but then it twisted into someone else, someone with malice in their heart. Then thoughts and emotions flooded in.
They have guns.
They could have broken the window if they wanted her that bad.
Why is she smiling?
Why is she opening the door?! They're still here!
They're laughing now... at you.
Why are they acting so friendly?
They were going to hurt you, woman!"
Dad and Lukas came running through the same gap I did, same bewildered looks.
A car door bursted open behind us, three more figures emerging from the small car, and the rest around us followed suit.
12 people circled around us, leaving the gap we had ran through unguarded.
"Ambush..." I breathed out shakily.