Alright guys! I'm back with chapter three! I apologize for the long wait, but I was on break and wanted to enjoy myself. Now, this chapter is kind of short, but I promise to make up for it next chapter. I have big plans and the story is just starting to get interesting. I also want to let you know that I changed the writing style just a tad to make it more present tense. I hope that doesn't bother anyone too much.
Chapter 3
Scratch scratch. I awoke to the sound of wails and moaning outside. Scratch scratch. Dead fingernails are scraping against the thin walls of the shed. The sounds are getting gradually louder, which means more cannibals were surrounding this small vessel.
"No no no!" This was the worst thing that could happen! Sir began to growl and bark. "shut up! Stupid dog!" That not my voice. Who's voice do I hear? It's coming from outside.
BANG BANG! BANG BANG BANG! Silence. The door creaks. Someone is getting in. My fingers grip my knife. The door flies open and a gun is pointing at me. "Don't shoot!" I yell and flinch back.
I peek one eye open and see a man wearing a tan shirt. He has a thick stubble and short curly hair. Behind him is an African American woman.
The gun is still pointing at me, but the hostility is mostly gone. MOSTLY, gone. "I don't mean any harm." I say, as I release my hand from my knife and hold them up. I even go so far as to drop all weapons to the floor. I hope that wasn't the wrong choice.
Confusion takes over their face and the gun lowers a little bit. a LITTLE bit. "My name is Sophie. I don't want any trouble." I say. The man looks from me to Sir, trying to figure out if he is dangerous. "That my dog," I say quietly. "Hess safe." To prove my point, I snap my fingers and Sir obediently sits by my feet.
"What are you doing here?" the man asks sternly.
"I could ask you the same thing."
"What are you doing here?" he repeats.
"I needed shelter for the night and this seemed perfect." This guy is no nonsense.
"I'm looking for my son, 13 year old. Wears a sheriffs hat. You seen him?"
"No. You two are the first survivors vie seen."
He seemed to believe me. I feel sympathy for this man. I can tell already that the infection has given him lots of shit to deal with. I looked at the woman behind me. "That your wife?" I ask.
"A friend." he replies. I want to help this man. I want to make his life easier. Even if it means discomfort for me. "Michonne." she says. I can already tell that she doesn't speak much. I nod at her. "Well," I started, "I could help you find your son." I offered. The man looked at me as if nobody has helped him before.
"How do I know if I can trust you?" He asks.
"You don't. But as far as I know, you could be leading me into a trap." I know he isn't, though. He looks to sad.
"Good point. You got a gun?"
"I have knifes."
"I guess that will have to do. Grab your stuff, let's go."
The exit the shed and leave me to grab my pack. I pick it up and run after the, Sir just behind me. What have I gotten myself in to?