MARCELLA SAT IN HER CAR, A MAP OPEN IN HER LAP.
She placed an 'X' in black marker over Brookhaven. Most places have been picked off by looters.
It had been over a month since the world went to shit. Marcella had been sticking to the suburbs outside the city, trying to find out where the safe zone was at.
She hadn't had much luck so far.
She also hadn't ran into people yet either. At least, not any that had a chance. She had stumbled upon a few people who were getting mauled, but there was no point in trying to save them. They were goners.
Marcie was going to push into the city more, but she didn't want to do it by car. It didn't take her long to figure out that noise attracts these things.
She stopped in a little neighbourhood, trying to find a place to hole up for a while to get some rest before going into the city.
She went up to one of the houses, her knife ready. Marcie knocked on the door loudly, waiting for any movement before going inside.
The brunette checked behind every door, learning her lesson from the first house a month ago. When she found nothing, she set down her pack and sighed, sitting on the couch.
Marcie reached into her pack to pull out some beef jerky she found a few houses back. She bit off a chunk and leaned back on the couch.
She wished she could have at least one more decent conversation with a human being. Otherwise she might forget how to talk.
Suddenly, a gun shot went off. Marcella jumped to her feet and rushed towards the window. Outside, there were two men standing above someone on the ground, one of them aiming their gun at him.
"Dammit." Marcie grabbed her bag and her gun before stepping outside, "Hey!" She aimed her gun at the older man, "Are you trying to attract every one of those biters here or are you just stupid?!"
"He's bit!" The black male told her,
Marcie glanced down at the man laying on the steps. He was wearing a hospital gown that was open, revealing his bandaged wound.
"He's wearing a hospital gown." Marcie stated,
"So?" He asked,
"So... hospitals were the first to go down. And no one would willingly wear those ugly things. Meaning he's been in the hospital since the beginning. It can't be a bite wound, he would've turned already."
The man on the ground glanced up at her for a moment before passing out completely.
Marcie sighed, "And now that he's unconscious, go ahead and check it." The man and the boy stared at her, "Go on... check the wound." She urged while putting her gun back into her waistband,
They didn't move and Marcie rolled her eyes before kneeling down and ripping off the bandage, "There, see? Bullet wound."
"Where did you come from?" The boy asked,
"I was in the house across the street." Marcie pointed across the road, "That's my car."
"I knew that wasn't there before." The father mumbled,
"Let's get him somewhere safe before more biters come." Marcie stated and they nodded.
Marcie and the other man lifted the unconscious man from the steps and they dragged him towards the house next door.
"I'm Marcie." She introduced as they set him down on a bed,
"Morgan. That's my son Duane." The father responded as he rebandaged the man's wound,
Marcie remembered seeing all the supplies they had piled up in a corner and the boarded up windows downstairs. They had been there for a while, "Where you guys headed?"
"For now, no where." Morgan answered, "What about you?"
"Atlanta." Marcie stated, walking over to a bowl of water Morgan had set out and wet a rag to clean the man's bloody face up, "My parents were headed there when things went down. I'm just trying to find them."
"That's where we were headed when..." He trailed off and Marcie knew not to pry. Morgan grabbed some rope and began to tie the man to the bed,
"Why are you doing that?" Marcie asked,
"Some of the people left living aren't good ones. We don't know who he is." Morgan answered,
"You don't know who I am." Marcie responded,
"You have a gun. You could of shot us the moment you came in, took our stuff. But you didn't. You're one of the good ones." Morgan explained.
Marcie glanced over at Dwayne who stood in the doorway, gripping a bat, "I'm glad you think so."
"Daddy." Duane stated and they both looked over at the man on the bed, who had begun to wake up.
His blue eyes looked around the room, stopping at each person who stood around the bed. Marcie gave him a small smile, to hopefully bring him some comfort.
She would be freaking out if she woke up tied to a bed.
"Got that bandage changed now." Morgan told the man, "It was pretty rank."
"Gunshot has healed nicely, though." Marcie commented from the end of the bed.
"Any other injuries?" Morgan asked him and Marcie gave him a look,
"Gun shot ain't enough?"
Morgan took a step closer to him, "Look, I ask and you answer. It's common courtesy, right? Did you get bit?"
"Bit?" The man questioned,
"Bit. Chewed. Maybe scratch? Anything like that." Morgan continued his interrogation,
The man met his gaze fiercely, "No, I got shot. As far as I know."
Morgan reached a hand out and the man tried to get away from him, "Hey... Just let me..." The man stopped moving and Morgan pressed his hand to his forehead, "Feels cooler now. Fever would have killed you by now."
"I don't think I have one."
"Be hard to miss." Morgan pulled out a knife, putting it close to the man's face and Marcie took a step closer, worried about what he might do, "Take a moment, eh? Look how sharp it is. You try anything... I will kill you with it, and don't you think I won't." The man flinched as Morgan cut him free, "Come on down when you're able." He walked over to the door and put his hand on Duane's back, "Come on."
Marcie walked over to the door, "I'll look for some clothes for you."
The man sat up and nodded, "Thank you."
Marcella went through the bedroom, finding a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt for the man. She even went through the closet and grabbed a pair of sneakers for him.
She walked down the stairs and found them at the dinner table, eating from a can of beans.
"I found a few things. I'm not sure if they'll fit but it's something." Marcie said, setting the clothes down in a chair.
"Thank you." The man said and she nodded,
"We got a bowl out for you." Morgan stated, motioning to the empty chair,
Marcie shook her head, "No, that's alright. You keep it. I got my own stash." She put her hands in her back pocket, "I better head back."
"The streets are filled with walkers. You better wait it out." Morgan told her.
She bit her lip, glancing back towards the door before sighing and sitting down. She observed the man sitting next to her, the one still in his hospital gown.
"Sir, if you don't mine me asking, do you even know what is going on?" Marcie questioned,
He stared back at her, "I woke up today. In a hospital. Came home, that's all I know."
"But you know about the dead people, right?" Morgan asked him,
He nodded, "Yeah, I saw a lot of that. Out on the loading dock, hauling trucks."
Morgan shook his head, "No... Not the one's they put down... The one's they didn't. The walkers. Like the one I shot today. Cause he would have ripped into you. Try to eat you, take him some flesh at least. But I guess if this is the first you're hearing, I know how it must sound..."
"They're out there now, in the street?" The man asked,
He nodded, Yeah. They're even more active after dark sometimes. Maybe it's the cool air or... Hell, maybe it's just me firing up that gun today. But we'll be fine long as we stay quiet. Probably wander off by morning. Well, listen... One thing I do know... Don't you get bit. We saw your bandage and that's why we were afraid of. Bites kill you. The fever... burns you out. But then after a while... You come back."
"Your body comes back. But your mind doesn't. You're not you anymore. You're just an animal." Marcie said quietly,
"Seen it happen..." Duane muttered and his father squeezed his shoulder,
Marcie went to the upstairs bedroom to keep watch. She made sure there wasn't any light peeking through as she stared out the window.
Tomorrow, she needed to go to Atlanta. What Morgan said didn't matter to her. She needed to find her family.
Her hand went to her knife as a car alarm went off. She quickly checked to make sure it wasn't hers before sitting back in her seat.
She hoped the biters would clear out by morning, so she can leave without any problems. Marcie stayed there all night, watching for anything.
The next morning, most of them were gone. There were a few stragglers, but nothing she couldn't handle.
The man, Rick, was given a baseball bat and Morgan had a crowbar. Marcie gripped the handle of her knife as she opened the front door.
A biter sat on the sidewalk, and perked up when it heard them,
"Are we sure... they're dead? I just have to ask, just one more time." Rick asked as he held up his bat and the biter wandered towards them,
"They're bodies are dead. But... they're brains are still active in some parts." Marcie explained,
"That's why it's gotta be the head." Morgan continued.
The biter got closer and Rick bashed him on the head over and over again. Marcie winced. She hoped it wouldn't aggravate his wound.
He also needs to learn how to take them down with one blow.
Once the walker was dead... again... Rick fell onto his knees and held his side, " You alright?" Morgan against,
"Need a moment." He grunted.
Marcie glanced over at her car, "You guys go ahead. I'll be right behind ya."
"You sure?" Morgan asked,
"I can handle myself." She smirked, "It'll just be a few minutes."
They nodded and watched as she jogged over to her car. She checked inside, to make sure her things were still in there, before heading inside the house.
She grabbed her pack from the living room and reached in to grab her baseball cap. Once she slipping it on over her ponytail, she headed back out to meet up with Morgan, Rick, and Duane.
She stood in the doorway of the house, listening to Rick talking about his family. How he thought they were alive.
"They're in Atlanta, I'll bet." Marcie smirked from the doorway,
Morgan nodded, "That's right."
"Why there?" Rick asked, looking over at them,
"Refugee settle. Huge, when they said it, before the broadcast stopped. Military protection, food, shelter... They told people to go there. Said to be safest." Morgan explained,
"Plus they got that disease place." Duane commented,
"Center for Disease Control. Said they were working on how to solve this thing." Morgan continued,
Rick stared at them for a moment before going into the other room, coming back with keys, "I know a place we can go for now."
Marcie let Rick take the wheel as Duane and Morgan took their van. It took a few minutes of dodging overturned vehicles and biters before they came across a sheriff's office.
"That explains the gunshot." Marcie mumbled as they parked around back.
The four of them approached the back door and Rick took his keys, unlocking it. He went first, holding up a flashlight while the others kept their weapons ready,
He led them into a locker room and went towards the showers. Marcie watched as he turned the handle and water came shooting out of the shower head,
"No way." She grinned,
"Gas lines have been down for maybe a month." Morgan stated,
"Station got its own propane system. Pilot's still on." Rick smiled.
He turned to Marcie, "The woman's changing room are across the hall."
She gave him a smile, "Thanks, Sheriff Rick."
It didn't take her long to find the woman's changing room. She turned the shower on hot and searched the lockers.
She found some shampoo and conditioner, even a hairbrush, and brought it with her. She grabbed some fresh clothes from her pack before undressing.
The scalding water did wonders for her muscles. After weeks of only bathing in rivers and streams she came across, this was like heaven.
She tried not to take too long, but she couldn't help it. Marcie loved feeling clean.
But all good things must come to an end.
Marcie turned the shower off and wrapped herself in the white towel. She sat on the bench and began to brush the knots of her now clean hair.
She changed into a pair of black jeans and a blue tank top before slipping her bomber jacket over her top. It was hot in the Georgia heat, but she needed the protection in case a biter tried to take a chunk out.
There was a knock on the door and Marcie opened it to reveal Rick standing there in his uniform, "You got a warrant, officer?" She joked,
He rolled his eyes, "C'mon."
She followed the men to a cage where Rick unlocked it. Inside was a crap ton of guns and ammo.
"A lot of it's gone missing." Rick commented as he reached for a rifle,
"Dad, can I learn to shoot? I'm old enough." Duane asked his father,
"Hell yes you're going to learn. We gotta do it carefully, teach you to respect the weapon." Morgan told him,
"That's right. It's not a toy." Rick agreed, "You pull the trigger, you have to mean it. Always remember that, Duane."
"Yes, sir." Duane nodded,
Rick looked over at Marcie, "You know how to shoot?"
She shook her head, "I have a piece but... never needed to use it."
Rick handed Morgan a gun, "Take that one. Nothing fancy. Scope's accurate."
Marcie helped Duane load the guns and ammo up before they left the station, "You sure you don't want one?" Rick asked her,
"I'll leave the shooting to your, sheriff." Marcie smirked,
They walked towards the cars and Rick walked beside her, "Where you headed?"
She looked up at him, "Atlanta." They paused and he stared down at her, "I'm gonna help you find your family, Sheriff."
He nodded, "Thank you."
"Conserve your ammo. Goes faster than you think. Especially at target practice." Rick informed the father and son,
"Duane." Morgan handed his son the bag of guns, "Take this to the car."
"You sure you won't come along?" Rick asked him,
"A few more days... by then, Duane will know how to shoot and I won't be so rusty." Morgan replied,
Rick reached into the police car and handed Morgan a radio, "You've got one battery. I'll turn mine on, a few minutes every day at dawn. You get up there, that's how you find me."
"You think ahead." Morgan smirked,
"Can't afford not to. Not anymore." Rick responded,
"Look, just one thing. They may not seem like much one at a time... but in a group all round up and hungry... Man, you watch your ass."
"I'll watch his back." Marcie stepped up,
"You a good man, Rick. Both of you. I hope you find your families." Morgan said,
Marcie gave him a nod before heading back to her car, "You two stay safe."
Rick spoke to the men before they took off in Morgan's truck. The officer walked over to her, "How much gas you have left?"
"Running on fumes." She answered,
He nodded, "We'll take my car."
Marcie grabbed her bags and put them in the back seat of the cop car. She looked over at her crappy Nissan. It was her first car. She bought it with her own money on her 17th birthday, after working her butt off at a diner to a year and a half.
Her parents were so proud of her. She remembered her parents showing family members pictures of her next to her car at family reunions.
Growling noises broke her from her thoughts. Marcie looked over at a biter that was clawing at the fence,
"Leon Basset?" Rick asked, staring at the biter,
"He a friend of yours?" Marcie asked, taking out her knife,
"Didn't think much of him. Careless and dumb, but... can't leave him like this." He stated,
Marcie handed him her knife, "Make it quick."
As Rick went to put him down, Marcella got into the police car. Marcie shed her jacket and put her feet up on the dash.
Rick got in and smacked her thigh, "Feed down. And put your seatbelt on."
"Geez. Okay, dad." Marcie mumbled, sitting up straight and putting the safety belt on as he pulled out of the police station,
She looked at the radio, "Can I turn on the siren?"
"No." He answered, pulling the car over,
"What are you doing?" Marcie questioned,
"Just gotta make a quick pit stop. Stay here." He ordered before getting out of the car and walking into the park.
Marcie waited a few minutes before sighing and opening the door. She heard a gunshot go off and Marcella stood, placing her foot on the window to get some height to see around the street.
She spotted him walking back towards the car and she played the siren, "Let's go, Officer Friendly. I'm sure biters heard that shot for miles."
He nodded and they both got back into the car before speeding off.
"For now on, only use your gun when you need to. Gunshots are noisy. Noisy draws them in. You get the picture?" Rick nodded and Marcie reached into her bag to get her second hunting knife, "I'll let you borrow this until we can get you another weapon."
Rick nodded, "Thanks."
Marcie leaned back in her seat and sighed, looking out the window, "Atlanta, here we come." She whispered, running her finger over the star tattoo on her left hand.