Wow...seven chapters in three days. I haven't been able to get this out of my mind at all. I hope you're enjoying this. I'm having a lot of fun writing this. I've got things pretty well planned out in my mind. I don't know how much longer it will be...but it'll be a while still.
I wasn't quite certain where I was going. I had a vague destination in mind, but really, I just needed to get away and think. I knew, really deeply knew, just how bad it would be for me to get attached to Alice and Edward. I can survive on my own, so I don't need any other people. If anything, more people means more danger. But I also knew, now that I know there are other people out there, that I can't be alone. Not anymore.
I wasn't too surprised when I wound up at the house I assumed the owner of the shelter had also owned. It was a small two story building, and I knew it was safe...at least the second story was. I climbed the tree right across from a window, then carefully maneuvered my way in. It was the only way I knew I'd be safe in the building. When I found the house, I had cleared it of zombies, then destroyed the staircase. Now the second story would be safe, and I could think as much as I wanted to without having to worry.
I settled down in the middle of a room, and just sat. I thought about all the reasons I should leave. Edward and Alice were obviously a package deal. Something told me Edward would never leave a child. Granted, I liked to think that I wouldn't either. But I've done some things since this started that I wasn't proud of, and I knew, real deep down, that if I had to, I would be able to. And someone like Alice...she was fragile. At least that's how she appeared. I knew she couldn't be, after all Edward said he only found her a few months ago. But she was small, and probably slowed him down. So because of that, they needed the shelter more than I did. It had food, water, and was fairly safe. I could show them all the nearby things and leave.
But then I thought about why I shouldn't leave. I was honest enough to admit that I didn't want to leave the only people I'd seen in close to two years. Did I think any extra dangers would be worth it? Not necessarily, but they were alive and they were real.
Then my final reason: could I let myself get close to these people? I knew what would eventually happen. They'd leave in some form or other. Perhaps they'd get bitten. Perhaps they'd leave. Perhaps I had finally gone insane and they were just a figment of my imagination. God I hoped that wasn't it.
I wasn't sure how long I'd been there when I finally stood, but I had my answer. I'd stay. I'd let myself get close to them. I'd see what happens. And, deep down, I'd let myself hope.
I was halfway back to the shelter when I heard it. Shuffling feet and quiet moans. SHIT! Was my oh so eloquent mental response. I drew my gun and put my back against a tree. I held my breath and listened. The sound was coming from my right, and as I listened, I heard it getting louder, and then another voice joined it. Shit. I thought again. I knew I had to act fast. I turned toward the sound, spotted the movement, aimed, and fired. I watched it fall and sighted the other. I aimed carefully and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.
Then I remembered that I had forgotten to reload my gun yesterday. And that I didn't have any ammo with me. "God damn it!" I whispered.
I spun and ran. The good thing about zombies is that they're slow. Quite frankly, I could probably power walk and escape them. I made it back to the shelter in record time, and cursed when I realized it was empty. I reloaded quickly and ran back out. I just hoped I'd be in time this time around.