almost nice to see you,” she remarked.
“You can’t get enough of old Marcus,” he laughed and looked her up and down.
I was starting to get pissed at him. I nearly told him to cut the shit when Becky got right to the point instead, “Do you guys know anything about the others?” She didn’t even look at Marcus as she asked, but rather beyond him, in the direction of the two men I didn’t know.
Marcus took the liberty to answer anyway, “A few of us were killed by shamblers as we moved through the woods last night. Olivia was among them. I saw that myself. As for the rest, who knows? Maybe they’re still out there somewhere.”
“Aww, not Olivia,” Becky cried out. She looked really choked up. The two women had bonded pretty close over the last few weeks. They had developed a rare trust. She turned away so no one could see the tears rolling down her face. Well, no one but me. I put my arm around her to comfort her.
Marcus eyed us with a mix of confusion and puzzlement. Fuck him , I thought. The next time he hits on her I’m going to lay him out. He’ll learn.
As Becky grieved her dead friend, I asked, “Has anyone gone into town yet?”
“ We haven’t had a chance to, but God willing we’ll find supplies and shelter when we do,” The Preacher replied.
“Well, there’s no tim e like the present, is there?” I suggested while Becky composed herself.
He hefted his large cross up over one shoulder and replied, “I agree with you on that motion , Nick.”
Our group, now numbering six, gathered what little supplies we had and proceeded into town. We had very few weapons between u. For all I knew, the town could be full of zombies. Desperation forced us onward.
We searched the old cabin, found nothing of use, and moved up the main road. I soon noticed a rustic, square sign that hung from a horizontal, wooden post by chains. In white letters that looked hand-painted, it read, “Payne’s Creek.” So that’s where we were. Hopefully we could procure a map. I was surprised but also relieved to see that main street was empty. I had never heard of the town before, and I had lived in Cali all my life. I suppose I’d never had a reason to come here, though, at least until now.
This region of Cali was mostly just woods and tiny, sheltered communities. It had held no real appeal for most people unless they were looking to get away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. This region had been great for vacationing, but I wouldn’t have wanted to live here prior to the apocalypse. Ever since the outbreak, anyone who had lived in a small, rural community like Payne’s Creek considered it a blessing: these were the most likely places to survive.
As we cautiously passed a few trailers, RV’s and homes, I began to get the uneasy feeling that we were being watched. I paused near an old, burnt-out station wagon and motioned for the rest of our group to do the same.
“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked.
“I feel like someone’s watching us.”
“Man, you’re fucking losing it,” he said . He punched my arm for good measure. “This place is a ghost town.”
“I’d listen to your friend, and also drop your weapons,” a new voice spoke up.
It came from the window of a store that said “Payne’s Creek Store” in white, fat letters on the roof. I glanced over at the window and saw a man who looked like a younger, blonde version of Clint Eastwood. He lacked a cowboy hat, though, and one side of his face had been clearly burned pretty badly. He wore a black, leather jacket, and most importantly, he was pointing a pistol with a built-in laser sight at me. I looked down and noticed a flickering red spot on my chest, right above my heart.
A split-second later, a number of other men and women popped up from within the store door and windows like some old, western shooting gallery scene. Each one held a rifle, pistol, or shotgun. All of them were pointed at us.
Chapter
“You can’t get enough of old Marcus,” he laughed and looked her up and down.
I was starting to get pissed at him. I nearly told him to cut the shit when Becky got right to the point instead, “Do you guys know anything about the others?” She didn’t even look at Marcus as she asked, but rather beyond him, in the direction of the two men I didn’t know.
Marcus took the liberty to answer anyway, “A few of us were killed by shamblers as we moved through the woods last night. Olivia was among them. I saw that myself. As for the rest, who knows? Maybe they’re still out there somewhere.”
“Aww, not Olivia,” Becky cried out. She looked really choked up. The two women had bonded pretty close over the last few weeks. They had developed a rare trust. She turned away so no one could see the tears rolling down her face. Well, no one but me. I put my arm around her to comfort her.
Marcus eyed us with a mix of confusion and puzzlement. Fuck him , I thought. The next time he hits on her I’m going to lay him out. He’ll learn.
As Becky grieved her dead friend, I asked, “Has anyone gone into town yet?”
“ We haven’t had a chance to, but God willing we’ll find supplies and shelter when we do,” The Preacher replied.
“Well, there’s no tim e like the present, is there?” I suggested while Becky composed herself.
He hefted his large cross up over one shoulder and replied, “I agree with you on that motion , Nick.”
Our group, now numbering six, gathered what little supplies we had and proceeded into town. We had very few weapons between u. For all I knew, the town could be full of zombies. Desperation forced us onward.
We searched the old cabin, found nothing of use, and moved up the main road. I soon noticed a rustic, square sign that hung from a horizontal, wooden post by chains. In white letters that looked hand-painted, it read, “Payne’s Creek.” So that’s where we were. Hopefully we could procure a map. I was surprised but also relieved to see that main street was empty. I had never heard of the town before, and I had lived in Cali all my life. I suppose I’d never had a reason to come here, though, at least until now.
This region of Cali was mostly just woods and tiny, sheltered communities. It had held no real appeal for most people unless they were looking to get away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. This region had been great for vacationing, but I wouldn’t have wanted to live here prior to the apocalypse. Ever since the outbreak, anyone who had lived in a small, rural community like Payne’s Creek considered it a blessing: these were the most likely places to survive.
As we cautiously passed a few trailers, RV’s and homes, I began to get the uneasy feeling that we were being watched. I paused near an old, burnt-out station wagon and motioned for the rest of our group to do the same.
“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked.
“I feel like someone’s watching us.”
“Man, you’re fucking losing it,” he said . He punched my arm for good measure. “This place is a ghost town.”
“I’d listen to your friend, and also drop your weapons,” a new voice spoke up.
It came from the window of a store that said “Payne’s Creek Store” in white, fat letters on the roof. I glanced over at the window and saw a man who looked like a younger, blonde version of Clint Eastwood. He lacked a cowboy hat, though, and one side of his face had been clearly burned pretty badly. He wore a black, leather jacket, and most importantly, he was pointing a pistol with a built-in laser sight at me. I looked down and noticed a flickering red spot on my chest, right above my heart.
A split-second later, a number of other men and women popped up from within the store door and windows like some old, western shooting gallery scene. Each one held a rifle, pistol, or shotgun. All of them were pointed at us.
Chapter
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