UNITY

Chapter 5

The distinct sound of the helicopter blades whirring past the dilapidated house I stayed in woke me up from my slumber, my eyes stinging from the lack of sleep. I groaned out loud but quickly got up, leaving my belongings and grabbing the flare gun I found in one of my lootings from one of the abandoned cars outside yesterday.

It's already been a day since Edward's entourage and I met. I don't know if I miss them, or the interaction I've had with them since they were the first people I've encountered after the apocalypse.

Anyway, I climbed up the roof of the abandoned house and observed the message I wrote, a big "SOS" scrawled on the roof using white blankets I salvaged from some of the other abandoned houses in the village.

What? It's not like I scavenged the houses... well, it was like that, but it's the apocalypse! There's no such thing as stealing anymore when the owners of the houses are dead!

I already got a flare loaded up; I just need to mentally prepare myself for what's about to happen if this fails.

During the 8 months that I cooped myself up in the house, I examined the zombies loitering outside and noticed that their eyes were the first organs to decay, making them blind.

But what they lack in sight, they make up for hearing and smell.

Once I fire this flare gun and I fail, I have about 60 seconds to run to another house that I also fortified for me to hide in because they will hear it.

And we all know I'm not good at cardio.

I'm risking my life right now. But then again, when did I not?

I squeezed the trigger, a red fiery flame shooting out of the now empty flare gun I held. I waited for several seconds to see if the helicopter saw my flare, but then I realized my mistake.

They didn't see me as they were already on the opposite way!

Fuck!

What a fool I am to hope they'd see my signal!

30 Seconds.

I mentally counted as I whistled for Tootsie to follow me outside, where a zombie crowd was already forming, hungry for flesh.

"Back door, girl." Tootsie followed as we took the alternate route to the fortified house, trying to keep my steps quiet by stepping with the balls of my feet first. Though it didn't help since zombies could smell fresh meat, and that fresh meat is me. I know, I know. I probably should've put zombie guts on myself like what they do in TWD, but fuck, the smell!

I opened the fortified house and quickly ushered Tootsie inside before going in myself, a sigh of relief leaving me as I closed it.

"Holy shit."

"Holy shit, indeed."

The click of a gun was what I heard behind me. I saw five men in my peripheral vision with various melee weapons on their hands, bracing themselves for the unknown. MY heartbeat spiked, a sign that adrenaline was now pumping through my veins.

"Raise your hands above your head and don't move." The person behind me, who I identified was a man based on his voice, ordered me.

"This bitchass want me to raise my hands and don't move? Bro, make up your mind." I mumbled. I'm not angry, just mildly irritated.

"What did you say, darling? Answer the question," The bastard had the audacity to come closer and grope my breast, his labored breaths were all I heard as I feel his rotten mouth beside my ear.

"I said," I can't help but grit my teeth out of annoyance, "You want me to raise my hands and not move at the same time, so which is it?"

The sound of laughter filled the living room of the house, with the guy behind me pulling me towards him, letting me feel his uh... junior.

If you could ever call it that.

"We have a smartass over here!" He shouted, before whispering in my ear.

"I'm gonna enjoy fucking that pretty little mouth of yours while they watch."

He pulled my hair towards the men to make me face them, the gun now pressed to my temple as they lewdly look at me from top to bottom. Their gazes were predatory, one was even licking at his lips as if he's about to savor the meal in front of him. A plan quickly formed inside my head and I smiled wickedly.

"And I'm gonna enjoy watching you all die in the most painful ways possible."

I agree, this is a man's world.

But it's also a woman's.

One second, he held the barrel of the gun against my head, the next I was blowing up his kneecaps. He yelled, the pain instantly registering through his knees, the sound distracting the others from their laughter as I shoot them all in their stomachs.

What? I needed a big target! I'm not that good at handling a gun!

What I do know though, are the parts of the body where I can shoot to let them bleed just right without them dying.

I examined my surroundings when they were busy laughing their asses off, and this guy with the gun was the only one who had a firearm with them.

Maybe some of them had guns in their pockets, I don't know. But I took a risk as well as a chance. So here we are, with 5 men laying down, thinking they were dying of blood loss.

Aha! No.

I rummaged quickly through each one of their pockets to see if they had anything valuable starting with the guy who held a gun to my head. An extra magazine, a knife, and a gold zippo lighter were all I could scavenge as he was too busy holding on to his kneecaps.

The others were kind of useless. I took the jacket of someone who passed out, some crackers from the others, and wallets with money on them. Not a single one of them even had a picture of their family or loved ones which made me sigh in relief. In this way, I'm getting rid of the guilt of what I'm about to do to them.

I decided to let them keep their wallets since money is a practically useless thing at this point.

And so, with adrenaline pumping through my veins, I dragged my molester by the neck and proceeded to open the door and toss him out, leaving him with busted kneecaps to fend for himself. I did the same with others as they begged for their lives, wanting me to put a bullet in their skulls instead of turning into one of them.

To that, I answer:

"No thanks, I wasted enough."

I closed the door and didn't forget to barricade it as I went upstairs to the house's second floor to look through the window. The scene of zombies coming for them as they tried to get away was like the painting of The Raft of The Medusa, and it was beautiful.

Am I a psychopath? At this point, probably.

Maybe I adjusted too quickly to the world we live in now. And I had no choice. Like I said so many, many times.

It was kill or be killed.

So, I killed.