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I had let my conversation with John get in the way. For a few minutes, I had not paid attention to my surroundings, and now, there was a zombie approaching.
Thank God Elliott and Amanda were sleeping in our car. My hiding stop was under the car, on a tarp that I had partially covered with dirt, so it wouldn’t stick out too much. My shotgun was loaded and ready to go, as was my gun.
I crawled out from under the car, careful not to make any sounds. I didn't want to use the guns, because I wanted to let the kids sleep. I didn't know what would happen tomorrow, but I knew it would be hard since we didn't have a car anymore.
When I was up, my back against the van, still in silence, I grabbed my sidewalk scraper and slowly walked in the direction I thought I had heard the moaning.
Zombies, I had learned, were not a discreet bunch and they had a very sensitive hearing. They always went after whatever sound they were hearing. In this case, they most likely heard me whisper in the phone while I spoke to John.
I tried not to make any noise but it was hard. I had parked the car close to the river, away from any busy roads but the ground was littered with garbage and branches. When I walked on a plastic bag and the handle got stuck on my shoes, I started to make a shushing sound every time I lifted my feet. I sighed and got the sidewalk scraper ready, ready to hit a Zombie. I was holding the scraper like a javelot, with two hands and I had my ammo belt, with two guns. My loyal shotgun was on a sling on my back.
There were some bushes in front of me and I crunched behind of them . I looked behind me for a second to make sure that there was no threats for the kids, and that I was far enough so any loud sound I might make will not waken the kids.
Because the sound made from slicing a head was not just loud, but sickening also.
I hid just in time, because a few seconds after, I saw my first zombie of the night. I put down my google and the bandana that was around my neck on my nose. I was ready. I would not be covered by gray matter or blood or guts.
I waited until the zombie, a man with a ripped three pieces suit and missing an arm, the bone jotting. When he was close enough, I sprung and threw the sharp scraper, with all my force, on his neck.
His head fell on the ground, and rolled into the river with a small plouc. I looked at his body, waiting for the minute or so it would still be alive because it didn’t know yet that the head was missing. It followed the head, falling on the ground and still in the throes of its death, his final one this time.
I went back to my hiding spot after I checked on the kids. Elliott was sitting down directly on the seat because I got rid of his carseat earlier during the day. Not only did I took too much precious space, but I was wasting time every time securing him and detaching him. As the still silent Amanda, she was lying down on the back seat, her legs under my seat half down. I still didn’t know who she was or what was her real name, but she had been of great help, earlier when we were stuck on the highway. She know how to load my shotgun. A skill handy to have during a zombie apocalypse, and strange to have when you are a seven years old.
As silently as I got out of my hiding space, I went back in.
I crossed my arms and put my head on it, finally ready to remember my conversation with John. How he said my name, how he sounded interested in me. I smiled at the memory. Without even realizing it, I fell asleep, to the sweet memories John had awaken in me.
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