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Day 3

Crap
s**t
Crap
s**t
...
It's no use.

For every step I took, I swore in my head, but even then it was no use. Some plan. We were never cut out for this crap. Neither of us had ever used a real gun before, nor could we shoot one with abandon unless we wanted the nearest horde to descend upon us like flies. Behind us, the owner of the house lay rotting on the floor, his skull bashed in by a baseball bat that I found in the basement and stabbed through the mouth by the machete clutched in Joyce's hand. I'd never gotten into baseball, but now I was beginning to feel a real appreciation for the sport.

At least I had that going for me. Otherwise, we were every bit two frightened teenagers with food and water but no idea how to get back to the city.

Who else had survived in my neighborhood? I made a noise of dark amusement, which made Joyce glance at me with worry. That was easy.

No one.

...

We flattenned ourselves on to the ground. Tall weeds blocked us from view, but it also dangerously impeded our line of sight. The figure Joyce had spotted earlier moved listlessly along the gravel road we'd been shooting for. Listless, but not jerky like all the others had been. Could it be...?
I breathed in deep to slow the heart that suddenly beat fast with anticipation.
Beside me, I felt Joyce raise her machete just slightly. "If it starts lifting its arms, we kill it."

"Alright." I re-adjusted my grip on the bat handle. "Let's do it."