“So what exactly is the plan?” Caleb asked as we drove down one of the many backstreets attempting to avoid as many crowded areas as possible.
“We’re gonna stop by The Gunner, grab Ben and some guns, and then go look for Michael.” I repeat for the tenth time. I turned to look at Quinn to make sure he was doing ok, he was our designated driver because he claimed he was the best at handling a vehicle than the rest of us; we didn’t necessarily agree but we let him have his desire.
Caleb nodded silently as I re-adjusted the swords I had strapped to my belt. It was a collectible samurai set, with the three-differently sized blades, but I always kept them sharp specifically for this day. Caleb carried three large knives and a thick stick he called The Slammer that he had been training with for the last month and a half. Quinn had Alchmophobia, the fear of sharp objects, which in his case was specifically related to knives; being as the only things we had were knives and a couple useless blunt objects at the apartment Quinn decided he would just go without until we got to Ben’s and he could get a gun.
We had attempted to get ahold of Michael multiple times and were continuing every 10 minutes but we couldn’t get anything which made us want to move even faster, and eventually the phones gave out which we were expecting. We sped through seeing few survivors and so far none of the undead of course we were avoided populated areas as much as possible. Finally we took the left at the final intersection that takes us into town, as soon as we did so the apocalypse was evident; windows were smashed and looting was evident. Thankfully we had found out about an hour or two later than most others, because that’s when Caleb’s shift had finished and he was able to come tell us, so we avoided a lot of the initial chaos but that also means we missed out on some of the best loot. When I saw the mess around us my heart dropped a little thinking about what could have happened to Ben’s shop in the craziness, but thinking about how aggressive Ben can be if he’s pushed to it relieved my fears.
We drove a couple blocks before we pulled up alongside Ben’s shop. The sign across the top reading “The Gunner” was the same as always still featuring big teal letters and the businesses character: The Agent, standing next to the ‘r’ in Gunner pulling a massive handgun out of the inside of his tuxedo.
As we hopped out, Caleb and I quickly scanning the area for the undead, I turned to see Quinn putting change into the meter next to our car.
“Dude! What the heck are you doing!?” I whispered harshly trying not to be too loud and potentially attract any living or dead.
“Sorry dude, old habit,” he said realizing what he was doing. We turned towards the shop and I reached for the handle, locked. Of course it’s locked, Ben wouldn’t want looters and of course the zombies. I immediately went for my phone but replaced it into my pocket remembering that phones are useless right now.
“How are we supposed to let him know we’re here,” Quinn huffs with frustration as he begins to pace. I look into the window but no luck; he has the metal anti-theft blinds down. Caleb takes a long stride towards me and starts to slam on the door making a light thudding noise on the bulletproof glass.
“Dude stop!” I shout grabbing his arms and pulling him a couple steps away from the glass.
“What? I’m trying to let him know we’re here!” He shouts. I grab his mouth to quiet him and quickly look around, scanning for any invited danger.
“Dude you’re making more noise out here than you are inside, we don’t want to be stuck out here telling all the zombies that we’re here!” Caleb loosens his muscles and I remove my hand from his mouth.
“Ok my bad, but how are we gonna let him know?” Caleb asks leaning against another car parked in front of our van.
“Beep! Beep! Beep!” the car alarm begins to honk and the entire block of shops and other buildings causes the noise to resonate down the entire street. Caleb jumped off the car landing precariously on one foot nearly falling to the ground. I whipped out my sword and started frantically looking back and forth my blade following my gaze. Suddenly I saw them, about six, zombies coming around the corners of another shop about two blocks down. I quickly looked over my shoulder to make sure there were none behind me before focusing my attention towards the ones ahead of me. They were fairly clean for zombies, must be recently turned and each with only a little noticeable bite mark on either their shoulder or near the lower part of the ankle. They weren’t rotting and neither did they make much noise except for the occasional gargle in the back of their throat, probably their body continuing to reject the fluids that make up the rest of us living breathing people.
Quinn backed to the door and started to frantically beat upon the wood, pulling at the lock hoping maybe the lock would just remove itself. Caleb, after pulling himself from the ground, pulled out his stick and held it in the direction of the oncoming undead. As the dead slowly came closer with nothing else in mind except for reaching us, others would randomly pop out from various open buildings and from around dark street corners and alley-ways; I counted nearly twenty at this point.
Suddenly I felt a hand on my back, in horror I pulled away and fearing a bite attempted to twist myself to avoid being anywhere near any possible head causing me to fall to my knees. The hand was strong though and wouldn’t let go. I was scared, the zombie apocalypse had just started and here I was going to be the first to get bitten what a waste.