I run and run as the rains come,
On my knees and out of luck,
I look up."
I lean against my truck, wanting more than anything to climb back behind the wheel and drive off. I resist the urge by tightly gripping the handle of my hatchet, which stays at my side. I glance at the sizable safe haven that's grown here. From what I've heard, four, maybe five thousand humans hide out here, safe from the roaming zombies. Miles of suburbs stretch before one can find the downtown part of this shabby excuse for a city.
I stand outside of the crowded bar, watching as the mix of intoxicated and the occasional sober stroll out of the door, out of the warm golden light and into the darkness beyond. I look towards the black, which settles on the boarded panes of empty shop windows.
"It's about time," I call as a young man appears from within the bar. I turn towards him as he approaches, a smile on his face. "I've been out here for a while," I finish.
He shakes his head at me. "You could've come inside, you know."
I make a face towards the bar and then smile back at the boy, pulling him into a small hug. "It's good to see you, Kish."
"Likewise," he says, gently tightening his hold on me, his arm against the back of my neck. Then we move away from each other, and he nods towards the lit building. "C'mon," he says, "It's cold out. You could use a drink"
As if on cue, a chorus of bellowed laughter spills from the open door, and I think about the half, maybe more of the pack that lies inside.
"Kish-"
"Harley," he says, his voice harder than mine, "C'mon. It's been too long."
My hand moves back to grip my hatchet, but I hold it against my side and nod once, moving with Kish toward the door of the bar.
I now know what it's like to stroll into the lion's den.
I stand outside of the crowded bar, watching as the mix of intoxicated and the occasional sober stroll out of the door, out of the warm golden light and into the darkness beyond. I look towards the black, which settles on the boarded panes of empty shop windows.
"It's about time," I call as a young man appears from within the bar. I turn towards him as he approaches, a smile on his face. "I've been out here for a while," I finish.
He shakes his head at me. "You could've come inside, you know."
I make a face towards the bar and then smile back at the boy, pulling him into a small hug. "It's good to see you, Kish."
"Likewise," he says, gently tightening his hold on me, his arm against the back of my neck. Then we move away from each other, and he nods towards the lit building. "C'mon," he says, "It's cold out. You could use a drink"
As if on cue, a chorus of bellowed laughter spills from the open door, and I think about the half, maybe more of the pack that lies inside.
"Kish-"
"Harley," he says, his voice harder than mine, "C'mon. It's been too long."
My hand moves back to grip my hatchet, but I hold it against my side and nod once, moving with Kish toward the door of the bar.
I now know what it's like to stroll into the lion's den.
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