Percy POV
"WEEHAA." WEEHAA." "AAAAHH."
"Come on, Stella. You need to calm down," I pleaded with the baby. I bounced her in my arms gently to calm her down. However, nothing was working. She kept crying even though I already fed her.
"Stella Bella, please," I whispered.
The zombies outside were banging and clawing at the cabin walls. The loud crying had probably called a whole neighborhood of zombies to us.
"Shh. It's okay," I paused while looking down at her beautiful face. She was so young and tiny in my arms. "I know that you miss her, but you need to calm down, baby girl. You're attracting a lot of zombies."
I was surprised that the woman lasted this long with a newborn. I wasn't even sure if that woman was Estelle's mother. Anything could've happened. The zombie apocalypse had been going on for 8 months now. Baby Estelle is (at most) seven months old. This meant that the baby was born after zombies had taken over. I can't imagine what her real mom went through in the meantime. Of course, I was positive the mom probably had help.
Slowly, Stella's family died until she's the only one left. I don't even know her last name, so her name is going to be Estelle Jackson.
I'm giving her my last name as a testament. She is now my family.
Finally, Stella stopped fussing around. Her green eyes opened wide, and she smiled at me. After a whole hour of crying, she's smiling now.
I don't understand babies at all!
"Hey, Stella, I think that you're finally used to my face," I responded. "Anyway, we have to lay low for a while so that the zombies outside disperse again."
The baby let out a chuckling sound.
"Yeah. That's what I like to see," I did a double-take. "Okay, I don't like what I'm smelling right now, so let's change your diaper."
This is what I wasn't looking forward to. She had already peed overnight, but this was her first poop in my custody. I wasn't sure if this is a milestone or something. Regardless, I set her on a blanket on the floor.
I started breathing through my mouth before getting to work. Essentially, changing a diaper is the same as wrapping a burrito.
In a few minutes, I was done.
Stella and I waited a few more hours. She fell asleep on the bed, so I got to work in peace. I was scared about leaving the cabin with Estelle. However, I can't stay here for much longer. The cabin is old, and I was afraid that the zombies would tear it down. It was better to leave while we still had the chance.
The baby bag also carried a baby backpack. It's a velcro strap backpack where you plot a baby into a seating position against you. It reminded me of the baby carriers that young moms or dads would wear outside.
I guess I'm becoming a dad today. I sighed while strapping the backpack on. Then, I carefully placed Stella into the backpack before tightening the straps. She didn't even wake up. Instead, she snuggled deeper against my stomach and chest.
My hand covered her head as I way to protect her.
I figured it would be better to leave while she was sleeping. As such, I stepped out of the cabin and silently walked toward the Manhattan streets. Estelle against my chest limited my range of movement.
However, carrying her in the baby backpack, allowed me to have two free arms. I could fight relatively normally again.
Any time a zombie got close to me, I stab it without hesitation. At this point, I don't see the zombies as dead humans anymore. They're a breed of their own, and I don't like imagining them as humans. it hurt too much to do that.
Instead, they're just monsters that need to be slaughtered.
Before I knew it, I was in the streets of downtown New York City. I hid behind a dumpster in an alley as a horde of zombies passed. It would be impossible to walk in the city. There were too many zombies littering the damaged streets.
I need a car.
I traveled lightly through the dark alleys. The busy streets were dangerous, but the narrow alleyways were more clear. Rather than hundreds of zombies, the alleys have dozens of zombies. That's a worthy difference.
Plus, I ran into them one at a time, so it's easy to take em out.
Stella woke up because of the commotion, but I popped a pacifier into her mouth. I swear to god, if she cries right now, we're doomed. Fortunately, I changed and fed her right before coming out of the cabin. She'll be cool for a few more hours.
Finally, I stepped in front of a parking garage.
I waited in the dark alleyway while a large horde of zombies walked through. They were stumbling and groaning, and they were disgusting.
Fortunately, they didn't sense my presence. As soon as they passed, I ran across the street. I ran into the parking garage and crouched between two silver cars. There were lazy stragglers in the building, but most of the zombies were outside.
"All right, Stella, I'm gonna teach you how to hotwire a car today. I'm not going to be the best influence on you. Get used to it," I whispered.
I used the hilt of my blade to smash the car window. I opened the car and got to work. A zombie came close to us. With one hand covering Stella, my other hand jabbed a blade into the zombie's eye socket.
Here's a tip. The eyes are the best way to stab into a zombie's skull. This skill is good because your blade won't get stuck in the bone.
It's a smooth stab that works very well.
I quickly hotwired the car before getting inside. Since I don't have a car seat, Stella continued to sit against my chest. Her tiny legs stomped my stomach and thighs.
Pain exploded into my stomach. My bullet wound was sending agonizing pain through my body. I ran out of painkillers, so it was flaring. While on the streets, you can ignore the pain. However, sitting in the car, the pain was a lot. I can feel the blood starting to flow out of my wound again.
"Stella, you have to sit still," I said quietly. She simply made cute sounds while fidgeting her fingers on my shirt.
I took a deep breath before pulling the car out.
I lived in New York for my whole life. I knew my way around the city. Plus, I used to play Grant Theft Auto as a kid. As such, it was very easy to steal a car and crash through zombies on my way to the Upper East Side.
I reached the apartment complex after a half-hour of driving. There was zero traffic besides the hundreds of zombies I ran over.
I stopped in the parking structure. The building was close to falling. We never lived in a rich part of town. Different trees and vines had grown into the apartment building. I stayed in the shadows while walking into the building.
I rushed forward and stabbed a female zombie. She didn't even have time to turn around, and I didn't even look at her face.
I retracted the knife and launched it at a zombie a few feet away. I ran at the zombie and grabbed the gun out of his skull. The lobby only had two zombies. Obviously, the elevator wasn't working, so I used the stairs.
I ran into a few more zombies but easily disposed of them.
We lived on the fifth floor.
I stood in front of apartment #542. My fingers were gently massaging Stella's back as I nervously looked at the door. I know that my parents had turned into zombies. As such, I prayed that they were already dead.
I can't put a knife into my mother's skull. I can't.
I pushed into the apartment, and a wave of nostalgia washed over me. My purpose in life was to come back to my home. Now, that I'm back, I don't what to feel. The little girls in my arms are the new reason why I'm still living. I walked into the apartment and stared at the pictures on the walls.
I grabbed a portrait of me, my mom, and Paul on my fifteenth birthday. I stashed it in my baby bag on my back. The baby bag was a lot larger than a backpack, so I moved all my stuff into the luggage-sized bag.
I always travel light so that I stay quick on my feet.
My room was the same. Blue walls and dirty laundry everywhere. I can't even recognize the place anymore. Mom and Paul's room was a disaster. This is where the conflict happened. I'm sure of it.
Dried blood was on the bed and the walls. However, there was no sight of any zombies, but that's a good thing.
I spent a few more hours in the apartment.
I fed Stella some Gerber food before feeding myself. Then, I changed her before swapping my clothes for clean ones. I gathered a few resources from the apartment and packed them into the baby bag.
Once I was rested, I was on the move again. Rule #4: to survive, you have to keep moving. It's not safe to stay in one place for too long.
I'm not sure where to go now.
Regardless, I climbed into the car and drove out of the parking garage.
The streets were filled with zombies. I simply drove and trampled as many zombies as I could. Killing zombies is a great stress reliever.
Even Stella seemed to be enjoying the view.
I'm driving near central park.
After reaching the outskirts of central park, I took a sharp turn to the right. The turn caused my bag to fall off the passenger seat. Dam it. Hopefully, no bottles or food cans broke. I reached forward and grabbed the bag.
I lost sight of the road for a few seconds.
When I looked at the road again, my eyes widened. I turned to wheel violently to dodge some wooden spikes that were jutting out of the ground.
I lost control of the car and crashed into a nearby red car.
CRASH. BANG.
A loud ringing reverberated in my head. I groaned while rubbing my head. Then, I quickly made sure that Stella was okay. She was fine, but I was not.
A large chunk of glass was embedded in my stomach. I hissed in pain while pulling the shard out of me. Surprisingly, Stella was still sleeping in her velcro. The glass from the window had barely missed Stella's tiny legs.
Gods, we got so lucky.
I tightly clutched her against me while stumbling out of the car. Smoke was rising from the hood. Based on the heat emanating from the car, it was gonna explode.
I grabbed the baby bag. Then, I quickly retreated from the car.
Suddenly, a loud explosion rang through the air. The impact threw me to the ground. I turned in mid-air and made sure to land on my back. I hugged Stella to me before wincing in pain. My stomach was flaring.
For a second, I couldn't move or breathe.
Stella was awake, but the pacifier in her mouth silenced her. Several zombies had turned toward us from all sides.
Shit.
I moaned in pain while pulling myself up.
I stared at the wooden spikes that I had almost driven into. They were man-made traps set to catch zombies. A few zombies were impaled. Even while stuck, they still clawed at me and screeched. I stared at the metropolitan museum. The traps were protecting the entire facility, and zombies couldn't get in.
I screamed in pain while running towards the traps. Blood splurted from my stomach as I ran at the perimeter of the museum.
Zombies were running towards me. One fast zombie tried to grab my shoulder, but I shoved him roughly. I threw my knife at another female zombie before reaching the trap. The zombies aren't smart. They don't learn either.
My focus was completely on my survival.
I didn't even see the humans on the other side of the perimeter. I crouched under the spikes and carefully made my way through the traps.
"It's okay, Stella. I got you. I have you," I hissed in pain.
"HOLD RIGHT THERE," a voice boomed. "PUT YOUR HANDS UP IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SHOT."
My body was angled away from them. I saw several humans, male and female. They were all holding knives and guns at me. The leader, the blonde who shot me, had a gun trained on my head.
I recognized the other blonde girl and guy, the pretty girl, and African American guy. There were several other fighters as well.
"HANDS UP NOW," he barked.
My one hand tightened around Estelle while my other hand raised, stretching my abdomen. I groaned in pain again, but I stayed in my position.
"BOTH HANDS UP OR WE'LL SHOOT," the leader exclaimed.
"Please don't shoot," I croaked and gasped. "I simply can't raise my other hand. Please don't shoot us."
I slowly turned around to reveal myself and Stella to them.
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"The best way to beat a problem is to make it work for you." - MacGyver