Living on Borrowed Time

Chapter Twelve

     "Zoe?" I stand there in the middle of the room, the canned food all over the floor. I'm speechless, and to be honest a little bit terrified.
"What... what are you..." I can't find the right words. She suddenly lunges forward and hugs me, sobbing as she buries her face into my chest. I slowly wrap my arms around her as everybody stares at us with confusion.
"You're with these people?" I finally speak. She doesn't say anything, she removes her head from my chest and wipes away her tears, looking back into the doorway.
"I have to go." She hesitantly walks away. The door closes and I'm left in an ocean of confusion and disbelief. I walk over to the wall and sit down against it, directly across from the door, shocked to the point where all I can do is sit and say nothing.
"Bruce?" Jane calls my name. "Bruce?" She waves her hand in front of my face but I don't move a muscle, I just sit there with my mouth open, staring at the door. I thought my sister was dead, I seen her. She was surrounded by hundreds of biters... how in the world did she escape... on the other hand she is just as strong willed as I am. My mother and father... that's a different story. I actually witnessed them being torn apart, I just assumed that the same had happened to Zoe, I didn't think it was possible for her to get out. I had barely gotten out myself.

The redneck guard walks in after a couple hours.
"Boss has some work for ya." He stands there with a shotgun, "You two, come with me." He points at Johnny and Sammy.
"Whoa, where are you taking them?" I step in front of him.
"Wherever we tell them to go." He says, "Now move out of the way before I have to lay you out." He threatens me, but I don't move. I remain still. Suddenly he swings the butt of his shotgun up toward my face, attempting to hit me with it but I block it with my left forearm. Then I quickly swing a right hook, my fist connecting with his jaw.
"You son of a..." He raises his gun and points it at me.
"That's enough!" A familiar voice shouts from the doorway, it's Zoe.
"What do you want?" He rudely replies, the barrel of his shotgun still held up to my face.
"He's with me today." She points at me, "Bosses orders." She walks in and pushes his gun aside. "Come on." She leads me out. As I leave with Zoe I look back at the group. It seems like they're looking to me for an answer, an answer on what to do, but to be honest... now that I see Zoe is with these people I'm not sure what to think.

"Joseph has us cleaning these rifles for the next few hours." Zoe says as we enter a fairly small room that has no door, just an open doorway. The room is slightly dark. Only one light dangles over a large wooden table which has a pile of rifles on it.
"Zoe..." I turn and look at her. "What are you doing with somebody like Joseph?"
She turns and looks through the doorway as somebody quickly walks by with a box, then looks at me.
"Bruce... just sit down." She says, looking back out through the doorway in a paranoid manner. I do as she says and slowly sit down at the table, and so does she, the pile of rifle between us on the table. She grabs one and begins to disassemble it, first by taking out the magazine.
"After..." She pauses after setting the empty mag to her left, "After that night mom and dad died I met Joseph pretty soon after that." She begins to explain, "Back then he was... different."
"Weren't we all?" I question.
"Yeah..." Her eyes meet mine, "We were."
"Well, what then?" I ask, wanting her to continue. She just looks at me, her hair tied back with only a few dangling in front of her left eye. The lighting gives her face more of an ominous look. Her eyes look different, before all of this her eyes were full of hope, joy, and optimism. Now her eyes consist of threats, fear, and perception.
"For a while it was just Joseph and I." She continues as she disassembles the rifle, "After a couple weeks we came across a few other survivors and we banded together, then more came, and then some more... eventually there were too many of us. There wasn't enough resources so we had to move on."
"I have one more question." I say. She pauses, her hands stop disassembling and her eyes meet mine again. "What are you gonna do about your son, David?"
She swallows hard as if she's trying to fight back her emotions.
"In this world... he's old enough to survive on his own. He's the type of thing that'll get you killed." She replies bluntly.
"He's your son." I raise my voice. She shoots out of her chair and stands.
"Not anymore." Her lip slightly quivering. "Now start cleaning these rifles, I'll be back." She heads for the exit.
"Joseph has changed you..." I say as she reaches the doorway. She stops. "What happened to you?" I ask with disgust. Then she walks out without saying another word. Without knowing exactly why, I unexpectedly shoot out of my chair and chase after her.
"Zoe!" I shout as I turn left after the doorway. Grabbing her by the arm I spin her around, and in the blink of an eye she slaps me. A hard, fast hand to my left cheek. Her eyes suddenly tear up, she yanks her arm from my grip and storms off, on the verge of tears.
"Hey!" The shotgun equipped redneck storms toward me as my changed sister storms away, "What did you do?" He barks at me with lethal intentions. As he gets into arms reach he throws a punch, but I'm quick to duck. Ducking, I charge him, wrapping my arms around his torso and jerking him to the left, slamming him into the wall just several feet from the room with the rifles that need cleaning. Then I let go of all my physical, mental, emotional, and moral barriers. I slam a right hook into his jaw like a freight train. Knocking him senseless. Then I send another, and another, and another. At this point everything sort of becomes a blur and the next thing I know I'm being pulled off of him by Josephs men, at least four of them. I can't get a look at any of them because I'm instantly thrown to the ground, then kicked in the body many times. I even receive a few fists to the face, then comes the blackout. I take too much of a beating to stay conscious any longer.