Zombies... Academy Style

Chapter Two

It is hot. It's so hot that I wouldn't be surprised if everything decided to spontaneously ignite, myself included. I had been on the road for just over two days and I swear the closer I got to reaching my destination the hotter it became. It could just be my nerves, but I think the middle of the day sun in the middle of summer had something to do with it... most likely.

Lifting the bottom of my shirt up, I wiped my face from the sweat that seemed to be streaming down it. Note to self, invest in more deodorant.

God help me if I happened to come across any hot guys, but then again, I swear they went extinct the same time everyone's brains stopped working when the word Zombie was announced to the world... for reals.

At least I didn't have to worry about that. It was just the walkers that could be as loud as a t-Rex on a hunt or a mouse after its cheese on a quiet night, so in other words, you usually heard them coming. One thing that I had learnt was that they were always making this grunting gurgling sound and the fresh ones, the ones just turned had this animal kind of growl to them.

At night when I had to stay in town it almost sounded like they were screaming. I never got much sleep when I heard that, to unnatural of a sound to let anyone really rest in peace, and I don't mean in the dead sense.

I still remember the first one that I had killed. I still remember freaking the fuck out and crying all through the night as I sat quiet in an abandoned building holding onto the gun and knife that I had stolen of a dead policeman. Thankfully before he turned otherwise that would have been a whole other story.

Now however, I don't even blink an eye and I sometimes have to wonder what that says about me. Thankfully to this day I haven't had to kill someone who is still living and I know it's only a matter of time before that become reality over fear.

Shivering at that thought, I hastened my footsteps as much as I could after being weighed down with my backpack and weapons as well as fatigue. I had two guns strapped to my pants, a sword to my back with plenty to spare ammo in my backpack. I couldn't tell you what exactly the guns and swords were, before this I hadn't even seen a gun let alone hold one. All I know is you aim, pull the trigger and shoot the bastards in the head... If you can. Sometimes the walkers didn't want the stand still to give you time to aim which is why I like my sword the best. It was more effective when their was more than one and you didn't want the loud echo of the guns fire to announce to all other walkers of your location. Learnt that the hard way.

The sound of a twig snapping drew me out of my musing. I looked up and around to see at least ten walkers headed towards me, thankfully not all clumped together. At the rate these guys were moving indicated that they were old, a bonus on my behalf. The older they were the slower they moved. It was the newly turned ones you had better watch out for. They were crazy fast and you better have some good running shoes on if you didn't want to become their next meal.

Shaking my head at how easily I got distracted, I pulled my sword from its sheath and headed towards uncertain death. Swinging the sword back in an arch I swung it forward aiming for its neck, ducking at the last second before another made a grab for me with its teeth, and at the same time thrusting the sword up and through its head, a sick crunching sound following in its wake.

I was just getting up and pulling the sword from its head when I heard a growl ripped through the hot afternoon. All heads, including the walkers, shot around to the sound, forgetting everyone around them for a moment.

Here's a crazy fact that I learnt over the last year. The walkers are afraid of animals, cats and dogs to be more precise. I don't exactly know why or how it works, but every time one happens by, the zombies take of in the opposite direction. Most of the time this is a good thing and most of the time I would be sagging in relief, but this time, not so much.

Standing there less than fifty feet away was a tiger and no, not a baby tiger but a full grown, lips drawn back, hackles raised growling tiger. The walkers took off rushing past me barely giving me a second thought, and for a second I thought about following them.

Knowing that I would never stand a chance against it, I fell to the ground and kissed my arse good bye. With my eyes closed waiting for this time certain death, I waited for those large teeth to sink into my skin, at least hopefully dying this way I wouldn't be turned... I hoped.

When I felt the soft fur of the tiger rush past me causing me to shiver in fear, I didn't expect to hear the screams coming from the walkers, or after a few moments of quiet the soft purring of the tiger sitting next to me lapping at its paws not even bothering to glance in my direction.

I didn't know how long I sat there for, afraid to move, to make a sound, before I said in the quietest voice that I think I had ever made.

"Hello kitty. Please don't kill me. I come in peace." The tiger raised its head and tilted it before going back to cleaning itself.

This time I was a little more brazen and stood slowly and backed away from it hands raised in silent surrender. I kept walking backwards until my back hit a tree, never taking my eyes from the purring tiger.

Knowing that if the tiger wanted to kill me or not, as I knew I barely stood a chance, I slowly turned my back to it and kept walking at a much slower pace, back taut with the strain of tension. When I was completely out of view of the tiger I let a received sigh and then I practically flew through the forest.

It was probably another hour later, thinking that the tiger had long since good did I see a glimpse of orange through the trees. I'm not proud to say that a few curse words left my lips. My only reasoning thought was that it hadn't killed me yet and was just going in the exact same direction I was.

'It's not going to hurt me', became a chant I said over and over, not knowing who I was really talking too.

It was then that I caught a glimpse of some houses through the trees and realised that my feet had taken me to town, and not just any town.

I had somehow made it home and I could just see the back of my fence that let to my old house no less that a hundred feet away.

Another sigh of relief left my lips and I quicken my pace, all thought of zombie eating tigers forgotten.

Drawing the sword again, I made my way towards the gate now on high alert, not just from the walkers that were scattered around the place in small numbers, but for any sign of any human life. It wouldn't be the first time I had been shot at and I had the scar to prove it, but I didn't want to make it my last.

As if sending my hesitation to proceed, the tiger that I had somehow forgotten, started taking down the walkers as if it was no more than play time to her. I have no idea when I started thinking of her as a 'her', but it seemed to fit and as soon as I made it over the wooden fence I would think of a name, but right now I had to get over the said fence.