Enrique-Highway 84-Anyone
Enrique had noticed quite a few more corpses roaming than usual. They seemed to all be heading in the same general direction. He didnt like it or being stuck on a rooftop in such a case. He walked to the edge of the rooftop and looked around. There were about 20 just roaming nearby, nothing he could maneuver around. He walked to the edge where the ladder came up and began his descent. As his boots hit the ground he heard gargling and groaning nearby. He noticed a corpse close to him and unfastened his axe, he ran over to it and made a quick down slash before drawing the axe blade out of its skull. He saw a few roamers turned towards him and let his axe sink in his hand so that his grip rested around the lower part. He swung with a wide arc and clipped one as he jogged past it. It's jaw came off on one side as it lost its balance. Enrique ran across the highway and into the small wooded area across from his previous location. He knew the walkers would have a hard time getting to him in the trees, he could easily lose them in there. He jumped over the guard rail and ran through the trees. He saw one on the ground and deviated his path slightly so that he did not run near its grasp.
"Fuck you ugly," Enrique said under his breath as he ran past. He was at a run, and easily lost the uglies that were behind him. He came across some railroad tracks and followed them for a ways before he saw a lake on his left. He saw a little dirt path that curved towards the lake and took it. He walked on a small dirt road and crossed a bridge over the join of the lakes. On his right was a small shack, he walked around the edge of the lake to the shack. He saw a handle on the metal door and fiddled with it for a moment, it was locked. It looked like it had been there for quite some time. He took a step back and put his axe blade against it, he raised it back and followed the same path. The lock broke and Enrique pulled it out of the socket. As he pulled the door open he was confronted by a warmth and foul smell. He nearly vomited at first, the power of this stench forced him to back away for a few deep breathes. When he finally managed to catch his breath he turned back to the shack. Inside he saw a man slumped in a chair. In his right hand hung limply a Winchester 1873 Repeater. The rifle had been well kept, aside from the blood covering the barrel it was in perfect condition. Enrique walked inside and looked to where the man was facing. In front of him he saw a woman and her child. The child was cradled in her mothers arms, each had been shot in the head. The man was likely the father.
"Mercy," He said as he took the rifle from the decaying corpses hand, "Did it old western style, that had to be one hell of a nightmare for him. Fucker must've been a collector."
Enrique grabbed the mans shirt and rubbed the barrel clean with it. He looked on the small table in the shack and saw some provisions, canned goods and some .38 special rounds. He brought his shirt over his mouth and unzipped his duffel, he began stuffing his pack with what little food there was left. Enrique took a moment to inspect the rifle, it wasnt the original edition like he had originally thought but one of the 2013 reproductions. Enrique checked the chamber and saw there were 6 shots left, he grabbed 4 out of the box and slid them into the rifle. He ejected the spent shell with the mechanism then began his walking again. He neglected the roads and just went in a straight line for a while with his new rifle in hand and his axe on his hip. He felt good, a rifle was a very useful weapon. Not only did it intimidate people but it gave him some better range. After quite some time walking he came across a park area. And after a little walking through the park area he found a main building, it had pillars and looked like it had been constructed a while ago. Enrique saw a truck out front and the doors were wide open. He raised his rifle and aimed at the doors, he sidestepped over to the truck's driver side and peeked inside. Keys in the ignition. The way it was parked made it look like it had been recent and quickly. There was allot of blood on the inside of the car. Enrique slowly opened the door and took the keys out of the ignition and put them in his pocket. He walked slowly up the steps and saw a bit of blood on the handle. He walked inside and followed the drops of blood. He saw a door slung open and slowly turned around the corner of the door. He saw a desk, and a chair behind it. In front of the desk was a man, this man lacked a right hand and had blood covering his shirt. In his left hand was a machete, he limply clung to it. Enrique lowered his rifle as he entered the room but stayed on his guard.
"You all alone in here man?" Enrique said calmly, "Aint nobody 'bout to jump out at me right?"
The man smiled, "I believe I am alone, but we all are in this world. We live alone, and we die alone."
Enrique looked at the man, he was suffering from blood loss. The machete had blood on the blade and his hand was still steadily bleeding.
"You do that to yourself?" Enrique asked nudging his rifle at the wound.
"Got bit... didnt want to turn, then I realized... blood is important. There's a very... large horde... heading North of here... Its heading on highway 84. I managed... I managed to get around it but my brother got caught in it. I took the truck and went as far as I could. Before I started feeling like one of them."
"You aint turned yet, but you are when you die," Enrique said kneeling in front of the man, "I can end it. Make sure you dont turn to one of them. I've seen it happen, it aint pretty."
The man looked at his wound and then looked at Enrique's rifle with a lazy expression. He nodded and sat himself up slightly. Enrique stood and aimed the rifle at the mans face. He lightly squeezed the trigger at first then finished the motion. The rifle kicked and the bullet tore through the mans forehead, knocking his head back. His head fell to the side limply. Enrique knelt back down and patted the man down for anything useful. In his pants pocket was a folding knife and in his shirt pocket was a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Enrique was tempted to make a joke to himself then realized how stupid that would be. He walked out of the big building and went to the truck. He checked the bed and saw a jerry-can and a tarp, not exactly high living. He stood on the back tire and reached over and grabbed the jerry-can. He undid the lid and sniffed before recoiling slightly. It was gas. It wasnt heavy but it seemed to hold a fair amount. He climbed into the front of the truck and did what any sensible apocalypse survivor would do. Follow the horde of zombies. He followed the only road out of the place and continued north on said road for a while. He cut through a residential area, it was devoid of walkers. After a little bit of driving he found himself on highway 84. He didnt see any walkers, they had to have moved with the herd.
"God please let someone be alive," He made his way slowly through the cars stuck on the highway, watching carefully for anyone on the road or any sign of the horde.
