We slowly sneaked up on the unclean soldier walking towards the porch. Just like we planned, we will bag and drag this guy to obtain the necessary equipment. It won't be much but having them against not having them is a world of difference especially when we plan to go deeper into the city to find transport. Sure, other vehicles are on the fringes where we are but they are mostly burning or in a wreckage. The owners of these vehicles were probably the unlucky ones. There may be some who escape the carnage in the city but I think those are quite a few. Those who had the common sense to get the hell out of dodge before the unclean swept the border town. Hell, even I'll stay inside my home thinking this was just some random pandemic and will be dealt with accordingly by the government. Apparently, that's not the case.

As we were an arm's length behind the soldier, Bennie whipped the belt around the soldier's neck and rolled it once. It's like a chokehold of some sort to make sure we don't get bitten. He yanked the belt and pulled hard, isolating the unclean from the rest of the group. We don't want the others to turn around to find us snagging one of their brethren of course. While slowly dragging the soldier away from the group. it flailed like a motherfucker. I can see Bennie struggling to grab hold of the belt. My job was to make sure the other group of unclean people wouldn't chase after us in case they turned around. Most of them are already inside or through the house anyway.

After Bennie passed position while dragging the soldier around, I turned around and grabbed its feet. Expediting the process. It was heavy alright. We weren't exactly trained for this. We carried it near the wreckage of the car. We need to move fast. I was on top of the soldier aimed my knife at the tip of its eye and used my weight to drive it through its skull. With a disgusting swhack, I pulled the knife out turned around, and kept watch towards the front of the porch. "Oh god, it smells bad and disgusting," I whispered while gagging.

"Suck it up cupcake. Give me at least 2 minutes." Bennie exclaimed. I turned around occasionally making sure Bennie's left and right were clear. I can see Abigail watching the road for any signs of threats too. Good lady. Bennie unstrapped the plate carrier, unslung the gun. A standard M4A1 with a custom sight and handrail. He then took the backpack it was wearing including the pistol on its side. A standard Barretta M9. He then took it's gloves. It's surprisingly undamaged. I thought gloves were the first one to go during an apocalypse due to bites or something.

Due to Bennie hurriedly grabbing all the equipment towards Abigail's position, the handheld radio, specifically an AN/PRC-152 Multiband Handheld Radio fell out of the carrier. I hurriedly picked up. That's when things started to go wrong.

"Come in! This is Frost! *Pah *Pah *Pah." *crackle. "Fuck! I'm being overrun. These things don't die! I'm badly wounded and need assistance over!." "I'm at the... Shit! *Pah *Pah *Pah" My mind blacked out. The radio wasn't that loud but apparently, it's loud enough when nothing else makes a sound. The volume was quite high too. "Oh fuck." I bellowed I turned around and saw what I feared. 4 pairs of dead eyes looked in my direction. I sat still thinking I could salvage this by thinking they couldn't see well not even a muscle. I am the perfect example of a rock. The four unclean ones were just slowly slumbering towards me. They clearly don't see that well. Their path was towards the last known location of the sound.

I was about to back up very, very slowly when a fifth figure appeared from the darkness of the house. This was the child in the unclean group. A blonde little girl about 12 years old wearing a dirtied red Sunday dress. It looked straight at me with those half-eaten face and I looked straight back at her. She, I mean it can see me. My mind went into overdrive because it's fucking disturbing. It's not necessarily a spark of intelligence in those eyes because if these things had even a tiny bit of intelligence, we are all fucked. But the spark of recognition in its eyes. It recognized that I wasn't dead. That I was alive, That I was it's meal.

In my mind scenarios run like a bullet. In all movies or games Bennie and I played, these kinds of threatening behavior are the very definition of how fucked up we can be. Fight or flight is what my brain was trying to process. There are 5 of them but they are slow. I am just 5 meters away from them. It's doable but risky. I can just take them down one by one. Using my speed as an advantage. But there are problems if I fight.

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One I don't know how many are gathering behind the house. Towards the alarm sound specifically. Two that would be pointless and a waste of energy. and three would be... that's when the child did something weird. It took a deep breath. A deep breath? A fucking deep breath!? My brain was sounding alarm bells. It's fucking telling me to kill that girl ASAP or something incomprehensible will happen. Without thinking too much I sprang forward. Heart pumping and with panic. The only thought I had was killing that girl.

Then a wailing, long ear-agonizing shriek resounded in the other was a quiet-filled morning.

~~~

I was donning the plate carrier on me then checked the chamber of the M4A1 I just snatched from the soldier. Empty. This gun is heavier than the airsoft guns Richie and I used in our airsoft years. but it should probably work just as closely. There's the safety. There's the mag release button. Then the charging handle. I cocked it twice and looked at the barrel making sure it was empty. I slid the magazine and checked the plate carrier for mags. I see two unspent mags. I slid a fresh one in and slapped it once more to make sure it was locked in. I checked the safety. It was already off. With a satisfying click while a cocked the charging handle and checked the chamber. A round went in and it was ready to go.

I slung it around and handed the mil-bag to Miss Abigail. Mil-bag is my short-term for military bag. I always like to abbreviate things for ease of use anyway. She wore the backpack without question and I tightened it a bit. Damn, those knockers really stand out without the suit. They were clearly glorious last night. I handed over the supply bag I had yesterday to Abigail. So wore it in front. It's sad to see those knockers gone but we need to get out of here ASAP. I opened the supply bag and swayed my head with disappointment. Why did Richie keep Abigail's magic wand? I bet to make a joke out of it later I bet. Abigail was clearly perplexed seeing her legendary stick too. I packed the pistol and my hammer inside and zipped it closed. Abigail is looking like a pack mule right now. Being the point man carries certain risks so I intend to be mobile as much as possible.

I handed the gloves to Abigail and made sure she wore them well. I tightened it making sure the knife wouldn't slide off her hand just in case she needed to use it. She is as secure as she can ever be. I tapped her twice and tapped on the carrier. I'm sure there was a handheld radio here. Sure there was the communication blackout but we'll never know if short-wave radios are also affected.

I fumbled around and turned to see if Richie got it. I looked behind me. He wasn't here. He should be right up behind me by now. I looked around when I heard a radio transmission. It wasn't loud per se but it still was loud on how quiet our surrounding is right now. My heart nearly stopped when I saw Richie crouching perfectly still in front of the 4 unclean in front of him. He was approximately just 5 meters from them. I was about to run and grab him while telling him how standing still is just idiotic when I saw a kid slowly emerging from the house.

I can't clearly see what Richie was doing when he tensed his movement, sprang up, and rushed forward. You mother fucking idiot! Just run! They're slow we can outrun them! But I'm pretty sure without breaking contact, they won't tire chasing us out either. Then I heard a shriek. My mind turned off, focusing only on the important stuff. The gun was heavy it wasn't an airsoft gun. Probability of missing due to unfamiliar weight and recoil? High. I went to one knee, rested the barrel on top of the wrecked hood, and held the top of the barrel with my free hand. I looked at the sight and lined the red dot at the head of the girl.

I took a swift, short inhale and held my breath. In a span of only a few seconds I was ready and I squeezed the trigger.