Chap 5: Leadership Skills
"This group needs a leader." Carey moaned. "We always just go with the best ideas. We need someone to guide us." Carey looked away. "I think it should be me."
Alex rolled her eyes. "Nice try, freak show." She stood up. "Everyone needs a woman to lead them."
Fisher burst out laughing. "I would rather follow a Nazi into battle, than a woman." He leaned back. "You need a black man to lead you. I am black, so I will lead you."
Alex tensed. "You're freaking white!"
Richard looked at his shirt. Totally ripped, and blood soaked. He stood wincing, ignoring the groups arguing over leadership, and looked through a crate in the back. A white tee and an Assassin's Creed hoodie. Not bad, he thought, smiling.
"Fisher, you don't have the skills to fish, let alone us!" Alex shouted.
"Well, I won't be able to lead fish when I die in battle with a woman leading us." Fisher retorted.
Fisher and Alex got into each other's faces, and began shoving each other.
"Guys, stop." Carey sighed.
Alex, with a fire in her eyes, shouted. "You wanna fucking go, bitch?"
Fisher, with the same look, threw her into the crates Richard was digging through.
She hit them with a thud, and Richard stood up.
"Okay, what the fuck?" Richard shouted, walking to Fisher.
"She got in my face." He responded.
Richard swung his fist, and knocked Fisher to the ground. He hit the ground, and looked up at Richard.
"You never, ever hit her again." Richard pulled out his sidearm. "Got it?"
Fisher nodded. Richard walked to the back of the room, and helped Alex to her feet. He looked at her face and put his hands on her shoulders.
"Are you okay?" He whispered, locking his eyes with hers.
"Yeah," She said looking at him, "Just fine."
Richard looked at the group.
"What the hell is wrong with you guys? Arguing for stupid shit like leadership?" Richard yelled, angered.
"I have the fucking solution. I will be your goddamn leader, because you guys can't handle shit without me playing referee or some shit like that." He said.
Richard paced the room. The new hoodie hid his angered face from the group. Fisher sat on the couch, and Alex leaned on the crates she was thrown into. Carey took out his thermos and filled it with cold water.
"Now I need to babysit you? How old are you now, eighteen? I'm a year younger than you guys!" Richard said.
"We're the same age though." Carey said.
"Fine, Carey, whatever floats your moat." Richard sighed.
"It's boat, right" Carey asked. Alex nodded, and Fisher shrugged.
"Shut up, Carey." Richard snarled, angry from the confrontation.
"Do I need to remind you of how I found you guys?" Richard asked. "I found Carey cowering in an AM/PM bathroom." He looked at Fisher. "You, Carey and I found overwhelmed by infected, and we saved your ass." He laid his eyes on Alex. "And you, I found alone, when I went looking for supplies."
"I don't need this shit from you, because I could have left you all in the states you were in. We should not be at each other's throat, when crazy bitches outside wanna rip our throats open! I love each and every one of you like family! I do not need to pull you apart like kindergarteners, do I?" He lectured, calming down. He grabbed his wound, because It began to burn.
"You need to stick together If I go, and if you are gonna fight for the stupidest reasons that could have been settled by a kill count contest, you won't survive. That is certain." Richard sat down, and thought about his decision of leadership.
….
Richard Fernandez
Height: 6'02"
Weight: 195 Lbs.
Richard grew up ready and prepared for the zombie apocalypse. He knew it would happen. When he put the group together, he knew they were good picks, and immediately forged a group. He now assumes leadership of the group. Richard sports an Assassin's Creed branded hoodie and black skinny jeans.
….
Fisher stood up, and looked Alex in the eye. "Yeah, uh, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened." He said, a little sad.
Alex looked away. "Yeah, me too." She sighed, looking at an injured Richard. He looked a little saddened by what happened. She sat next to him and put her arm around his neck.
"Hey, stop being sad." She joked, hiding her own pain.
"Well, I can't." Richard moaned, a little deeper than usual.
Alex then began to get worried. He had gotten slashed, and now was acting odd. She took one more look at Richard, kissed him on the cheek, and stood. She didn't want to face the fact that he may be infected.
"What was that for?" Richard asked, a little surprised.
"Nothing…" She said cautiously.
Fisher looked at Richard, and noticed his eyes were a little purple. Carey shot Fisher a look, and then Alex a look, and motioned to the other side of the safe room. They grouped as Richard stood and looked out the door.
"What the fuck is going on with him?" Carey whispered.
Fisher shrugged, scared. "I don't know, but he is freaking me out."
Alex looked at her sidearm. "We need a plan in case he might become infected."
Carey shook his head. "Don't think like that!"
Alex looked at Carey. "I have to."
Fisher walked away. Carey turned around and sat down on a crate.
Alex shot them both a look, and sat down on the couch, and cast a final look at Richard. He was staring outside, like it was a portal to another world.
Richard looked at the group. "We need to get to Mercy Hospital. There's pickup for rescue there." He stared out the door again.
There was a silence as Richard grabbed his Remington 11-87 from the couch. He pulled the bar off the door, and edged the door open.
Alex stood, and Carey tossed her Uzi to her. Fisher groaned and looked out the door. Carey took one last look at the map of the United States, realizing that there were no safe places left. Richard stepped out, and signaled the group.
