The Watcher in the Woods (Zombie Apocalypse)

Chapter One

***

The disturbing sound of whispering roused me from my sleep. At first I thought it was my dream mingling with reality, but as the noises became lucid, my senses rattled to life. Every muscle in my body contracted as a terrible anticipation filled the air.

Without second thought, I felt for the knife underneath my pillow of folded clothes. Silhouettes. Just behind my tent. My limbs were noodles, my heart in a fist while pins pierced the back of my eyes from days worth of lost sleep. But none of these sensations were worse than death, and despite them a fight swelled in the pit of my stomach. I tucked the knife under my belt and tugged Dad's gun from its place in my backpack. It wasn't loaded, but they wouldn't know that.

I crept onto my knees. Two of them. How long had they been there, just standing? I contemplated whether or not I could overpower two people at once. I had done it before, sunk a bullet into a skull. But those people hadn't been alive. They weren't real men and women with a will to live and maybe a family to return to. But these were, and it was clear they were waiting for me to wake up and face the stark reality. They wanted something. Something I probably couldn't give. I couldn't stay here. I had to come up with a plan. The back opening of the tent flapped. It was already slightly unzipped. 

The screeching of birds in the treetops drowned out the sound of my free hand slowly unzipping the rest of the tent opening. I slid one foot out onto the dirt outside, waiting for the sound of gunshots, of shouting, but it never came. Fear prickled under my skin, revealing itself in the form of goose bumps. I forced myself out. With one swift movement, the morning sun began beating down on my cheek, confirming my worst fears: I was out in the open, with an empty gun trained on my new enemy.

Whatever I'd planned to do next escaped me as my eyes finally settled on the strangers. The sight of them was almost enough to knock the wind out of me. My tough-girl façade faltered for a millisecond as I regained my bearings. Two unarmed, hesitant teenagers whose clean clothes clung to their well-nourished frames stared back, waiting for my next move. The angry and hollow, dirt-ridden faces I had been expecting to see was nothing close to what actually stood in front of me. They couldn't have been much older than me, both youthful in appearance. The brown braid that ran past the girl's shoulders and the dimples that marked the boy's cheeks reminded me of every friend I had lost along the way.

"Hey," the girl said, with her arms up in surrender. Both of them staggered back as they caught sight of my weapon. "We'll back up."

All the noise going on in my head made the gentle way her words flowed out, feel foreign. Without thinking, I heard myself speak. It was like the words weren't even mine - as if a relentless force had pushed it from my tongue right into the world.

"Don't make me use this."

My finger curled around the trigger. I didn't exactly know what I was threatening to do or whether I could do it, but I knew I had to make them leave.

"My name's Alicia, and this is Sam," she announced. "We're not here to hurt you."

My mind flickered to the pack in my tent which was filled to the brim with supplies and old trinkets. Perhaps they'd try to get to it.

"What do you want?"

"To make an offer."

I said nothing and took another step towards them. My heart was hammering, but I kept my gait casual with no hint of hesitation. They couldn't know who I really was. To them, I had always been this way. Tough as nails and as lonely as they come. Alicia moved back as I inched closer, but Sam stood his ground.

"Okay lady," Sam spoke. His voice was rich in spirit, teasing as if we were all in high school flirting in the corridor before third period. 

"We don't have a single firearm on us." He patted over his whole body for effect. "Not really much of a fair fight is it?"