Thursday, December 5, 2013

The Weak Die

Ok, now I'm feeling foolish. I wanted to enter #ThursThreads and didn't notice I clicked on an old link. So the story I wrote is from an old prompt. But I'm posting it here anyway because, well... can't let a good story go to waste.
The Weak Die
     “This place is mine.”
     The girl’s eyes were wild. I could see she was tryin’ to decide if she could take me. I’m old, but strong. You don’t survive in this world if you can’t fight.
     I cocked the hammer. “Go on. Git.”
     She held out the bundle she was carrying. “If I die, he’ll be alone.”
     It was a baby. I hadn’t seen one of those since… well, before the world went to hell. The weak were the first to die.
     “Please…can you take him?”
     I fired. She flinched, but give her credit, she didn’t scream. Behind her, the Walker dropped. I fired again. The girl ran, shielding the child and taking up a position behind me.
     “Git inside.”
     There were only a few, but the shots would bring more. I needed to prepare. Burn the bodies. For some reason the smell of burning zombie’s deterred the others. It was like they instinctively knew to steer clear.
     Later, I sat with the girl around the fire while she nursed the babe. I watched, curious. I’d never been so blessed, but then maybe nature had smelled something in me… knew to steer clear.
     She wasn’t expecting it when I slit her throat. She shoulda got when the gitten was good.
     The babe stared at me. I smiled and said calming things. Then I slit its throat too. You don’t survive in this world if you can’t fight, but even the weak serve a purpose and tonight, I’d be eatin’ well.

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