HERE LIES: NO ONE [07]
Last weeks vote:
>The scouts have been suffering heavy casualties, will any of them make it through the story alive? yes 62% no 48%
>We've been given the hint that Tyler, one of the scouts, is the younger brother of Alex, who is part of Raf's group. Will the two brothers find each other in this crazy Apocalypse? Yes 53% No 47%
Chapter Seven: Leadership
-“This infection must be a dentist’s worst nightmare. I doubt the dead brush.”-
-quote unknown
Raf watched as Alex lined up the shot and fired. There was a quiet thuck! as the bullet left the barrel. Forty feet away a zeek stopped moving, its head snapping back. It swung upside-down freely and blood poured from its mouth.
“Start the next one.” Raf called out, scratching his nose and yawning in the early morning light.
Alex checked the silencer on his pistol and rolled his shoulders, taking a proper stance taught to him by Cody. Paul, standing a ways away with a long broom handle, pushed at another hanging zeek and started it swinging back and forth. Paul backed away from the metal swingset-turned-target-practice. He nodded at them.
Alex breathed in, then released half-way. Freezing, he squinted his face. His eyes followed the swaying zeek, an old man with long white hair. The monster groaned, almost impatiently. Alex fired. The first shot hit the zeek in the shoulder and Alex twitched in annoyance. He readjusted his aim and hit the zeek square through the forehead on the second shot. He lowered his pistol and ejected the magazine, then opened the chamber and removed the round from the barrel.
“Stupid silencer threw me off. Mind, I am grateful Wilson gave it to me. One good thing the adult group has done huh?” Alex commented.
Paul approached them and high-fived Alex. “You’re getting good for a bus driver.”
Alex flicked Paul’s long hair. “I was never a bus driver, hippie.”
Paul grinned. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as Cameron. The kid’s a regular sniper.”
Alex frowned and looked into the distance. “I’ll have to be. I’ll have to improve a lot more if we want to make it to the Q.Z. and find our families.”
Paul gave a sidelong glance to Raf. Raf frowned and furrowed his brow. He regretted not telling Alex about what they’d learned from Wilson. The Q.Z. was gone. Destroyed. All of their families—dead. Only he himself, Paul, and Cody knew. If Alex were to learn the truth, would he stop practicing? Stop fighting against what had become of the world? Another thought entered Raf’s mind. If the entire world had been overrun by zeeks and the majority of humanity decimated, was there a point for any of them to keep fighting?
Raf watched as Alex walked off the parkland and towards Cody, who was teaching the rest of the group how to field-strip a gun near the middle of the road. The entire group sat cross-legged on the asphalt in a large circle, each working on separate weapon. Raf had expected at least one gun to have gone off by now but Cody had assured him multiple times that none of armaments held any bullets. Wilson and his brother Chase were both there as well, looking on with interest.
The adult group hadn’t done much since arriving into the neighborhood. They’d helped clear up a few zeeks; some were really good shots, especially Chase. Raf hadn’t seen any of them don the Avent armor since they’d arrived. As far as he knew, the suits were collecting dust. Because Raf’s group scoured the streets daily for stray zeeks, the neighborhood had become relatively safe. The adult so far had taken that to their advantage and lounged around carefree. Raf had even seen a few leave their house to explore the neighborhood without weapons! He shook his head at them, disgusted that they could give up fighting so quickly. Many of the adult tried to take the teens under their wing but Raf’s group would shrug them off, annoyed that they were treated as inexperienced. Raf bet his group had killed triple the zeeks the adults had.
Paul smacked Raf’s shoulder and motioned for them to start removing the corpses from the swingset frame. The two began the disgusting work of untangling the dead from the lassos that bound their legs. In the three months since he’d begun surviving on his own with his small group, he’d killed plenty of zeeks. Yet, he still hadn’t accustomed to touching their cold, clammy skin. It felt like touching raw bread dough.
“You think the ones that don’t get anything to eat rot faster than the ones that do? I mean, they already rot slowly as it is; you’d expect a lot of them to be pretty rancid by now.” Paul asked Raf.
Instead of replying to Paul’s remark, Raf rolled his jaw.
“Paul… I’m not cut out for this.”
Paul laughed. “Me neither! Cutting down zeeks from a park swing isn’t exactly what I expected I’d be doing at the age of eighteen!”
“No, not that.” Raf said dismissively, “You know, taking care of them. Telling them what to do.” Raf motioned to the group, watching as Cody showed Alex which lubricant to apply to a gun’s spring.
“Is this about the whole decision over not telling them about the Quarantine Zone?” Paul asked. The boy sighed, unfastening the last knot on the old white-haired zeek. The body dropped with a thud.
“Paul…” Raf licked his lips. “You should be leader. I mean… you’re always so happy. You never let anything get you down for long. People look up to you. Every time they’re brooding over our situation, you’re there for them. You’re the best at breaking up fights—”
Paul held up a hand, stopping Raf mid-sentence.
“No way I want your job man. I’m not cut out for it. I’m too… free-spirited; not boring like you with a stick up his butt.”
Raf snorted. Paul continued on.
“It was you that got us this far. We would’ve all separated off on our own Day One if you hadn’t convinced us otherwise. Heck, while I was lying unconscious on the floor of the bus, you kept us safe. We would have all been dead.”
Raf opened his mouth to argue but Paul stopped him. They finished cutting down the second zeek and each took a corpse by the feet. They dragged the bodies to an already large pile mounded on a patch of scorched earth they’d used multiple times for burnings. Paul pulled off the plastic gloves he was wearing and Raf did the same. They tossed the gloves in the pile and walked back to the swingset. Paul fished into his jeans pocket and pulled out a smooth pitch black rock. He held it up for Raf to see. There was a small hole drilled into the center of it.
“No idea who carved it. You know where I found it? The football field.” Paul explained.
Raf’s thought travelled back to that fateful evening of horror. The cop, the parade of zeeks closing in from all sides, everyone dying, the bus, Alex opening the doors and yelling for Raf to jump inside--
Paul handed Raf the small object.
“You’re a leader Raf. Our leader. Do you know what a leader’s like?”
Raf shook his head, turning the black item over and over in his palm.
“A leader is flawed, scared, and human. Just like you. But most of all, a leader’s like a rock. Unstoppable and sturdy. What’s a leader like Raf?”
Raf raised his eyebrows and gave a smirk, he looked up to Paul, planning to crack a joke but realized the kid had a serious face. The long-haired boy looked to Raf expectantly.
“Like a rock?” Raf responded.
Paul nodded. “Exactly. Like a rock. Never forget that, especially when you have to make the tough decision.”
Raf made to give the rock back to Paul but he shook his head. “Keep it. To remind you.”
“But this is special. It’s yours!” Raf argued.
Paul didn’t respond but turned and walked away, heading towards the rest of the group. Raf was left alone holding out his hand with the small black symbol.
-quote unknown
Raf watched as Alex lined up the shot and fired. There was a quiet thuck! as the bullet left the barrel. Forty feet away a zeek stopped moving, its head snapping back. It swung upside-down freely and blood poured from its mouth.
“Start the next one.” Raf called out, scratching his nose and yawning in the early morning light.
Alex checked the silencer on his pistol and rolled his shoulders, taking a proper stance taught to him by Cody. Paul, standing a ways away with a long broom handle, pushed at another hanging zeek and started it swinging back and forth. Paul backed away from the metal swingset-turned-target-practice. He nodded at them.
Alex breathed in, then released half-way. Freezing, he squinted his face. His eyes followed the swaying zeek, an old man with long white hair. The monster groaned, almost impatiently. Alex fired. The first shot hit the zeek in the shoulder and Alex twitched in annoyance. He readjusted his aim and hit the zeek square through the forehead on the second shot. He lowered his pistol and ejected the magazine, then opened the chamber and removed the round from the barrel.
“Stupid silencer threw me off. Mind, I am grateful Wilson gave it to me. One good thing the adult group has done huh?” Alex commented.
Paul approached them and high-fived Alex. “You’re getting good for a bus driver.”
Alex flicked Paul’s long hair. “I was never a bus driver, hippie.”
Paul grinned. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as Cameron. The kid’s a regular sniper.”
Alex frowned and looked into the distance. “I’ll have to be. I’ll have to improve a lot more if we want to make it to the Q.Z. and find our families.”
Paul gave a sidelong glance to Raf. Raf frowned and furrowed his brow. He regretted not telling Alex about what they’d learned from Wilson. The Q.Z. was gone. Destroyed. All of their families—dead. Only he himself, Paul, and Cody knew. If Alex were to learn the truth, would he stop practicing? Stop fighting against what had become of the world? Another thought entered Raf’s mind. If the entire world had been overrun by zeeks and the majority of humanity decimated, was there a point for any of them to keep fighting?
Raf watched as Alex walked off the parkland and towards Cody, who was teaching the rest of the group how to field-strip a gun near the middle of the road. The entire group sat cross-legged on the asphalt in a large circle, each working on separate weapon. Raf had expected at least one gun to have gone off by now but Cody had assured him multiple times that none of armaments held any bullets. Wilson and his brother Chase were both there as well, looking on with interest.
The adult group hadn’t done much since arriving into the neighborhood. They’d helped clear up a few zeeks; some were really good shots, especially Chase. Raf hadn’t seen any of them don the Avent armor since they’d arrived. As far as he knew, the suits were collecting dust. Because Raf’s group scoured the streets daily for stray zeeks, the neighborhood had become relatively safe. The adult so far had taken that to their advantage and lounged around carefree. Raf had even seen a few leave their house to explore the neighborhood without weapons! He shook his head at them, disgusted that they could give up fighting so quickly. Many of the adult tried to take the teens under their wing but Raf’s group would shrug them off, annoyed that they were treated as inexperienced. Raf bet his group had killed triple the zeeks the adults had.
Paul smacked Raf’s shoulder and motioned for them to start removing the corpses from the swingset frame. The two began the disgusting work of untangling the dead from the lassos that bound their legs. In the three months since he’d begun surviving on his own with his small group, he’d killed plenty of zeeks. Yet, he still hadn’t accustomed to touching their cold, clammy skin. It felt like touching raw bread dough.
“You think the ones that don’t get anything to eat rot faster than the ones that do? I mean, they already rot slowly as it is; you’d expect a lot of them to be pretty rancid by now.” Paul asked Raf.
Instead of replying to Paul’s remark, Raf rolled his jaw.
“Paul… I’m not cut out for this.”
Paul laughed. “Me neither! Cutting down zeeks from a park swing isn’t exactly what I expected I’d be doing at the age of eighteen!”
“No, not that.” Raf said dismissively, “You know, taking care of them. Telling them what to do.” Raf motioned to the group, watching as Cody showed Alex which lubricant to apply to a gun’s spring.
“Is this about the whole decision over not telling them about the Quarantine Zone?” Paul asked. The boy sighed, unfastening the last knot on the old white-haired zeek. The body dropped with a thud.
“Paul…” Raf licked his lips. “You should be leader. I mean… you’re always so happy. You never let anything get you down for long. People look up to you. Every time they’re brooding over our situation, you’re there for them. You’re the best at breaking up fights—”
Paul held up a hand, stopping Raf mid-sentence.
“No way I want your job man. I’m not cut out for it. I’m too… free-spirited; not boring like you with a stick up his butt.”
Raf snorted. Paul continued on.
“It was you that got us this far. We would’ve all separated off on our own Day One if you hadn’t convinced us otherwise. Heck, while I was lying unconscious on the floor of the bus, you kept us safe. We would have all been dead.”
Raf opened his mouth to argue but Paul stopped him. They finished cutting down the second zeek and each took a corpse by the feet. They dragged the bodies to an already large pile mounded on a patch of scorched earth they’d used multiple times for burnings. Paul pulled off the plastic gloves he was wearing and Raf did the same. They tossed the gloves in the pile and walked back to the swingset. Paul fished into his jeans pocket and pulled out a smooth pitch black rock. He held it up for Raf to see. There was a small hole drilled into the center of it.
“No idea who carved it. You know where I found it? The football field.” Paul explained.
Raf’s thought travelled back to that fateful evening of horror. The cop, the parade of zeeks closing in from all sides, everyone dying, the bus, Alex opening the doors and yelling for Raf to jump inside--
Paul handed Raf the small object.
“You’re a leader Raf. Our leader. Do you know what a leader’s like?”
Raf shook his head, turning the black item over and over in his palm.
“A leader is flawed, scared, and human. Just like you. But most of all, a leader’s like a rock. Unstoppable and sturdy. What’s a leader like Raf?”
Raf raised his eyebrows and gave a smirk, he looked up to Paul, planning to crack a joke but realized the kid had a serious face. The long-haired boy looked to Raf expectantly.
“Like a rock?” Raf responded.
Paul nodded. “Exactly. Like a rock. Never forget that, especially when you have to make the tough decision.”
Raf made to give the rock back to Paul but he shook his head. “Keep it. To remind you.”
“But this is special. It’s yours!” Raf argued.
Paul didn’t respond but turned and walked away, heading towards the rest of the group. Raf was left alone holding out his hand with the small black symbol.
