Sick and Misunderstood

The four survivors had found the safe room just before the dawn. The survivors were just outside of the city and there were still many infected roaming around. They had discovered, quite unpleasantly, that the infected had sharp eyesight which made it almost impossible to travel during the day without being attacked every couple of minutes. The safe room had a few sleeping bags in it and some ammunition. The walls were littered with graffiti that past residents had left behind. Francis was searching the safe room for supplies while Bill, Zoey, and Louis were huddled around the ammunition sorting through it.

"Hey Zoey, I found some bullets for your sniper rifle."

"Thanks Louis. If anyone needs ammo for their pistols I have some."

"I found some food," Francis called out. The other three survivors turned eagerly towards him. Francis carried a large white container in his hands. The eagerness quickly turned into suspicion.

"What is that?"Louis asked.

"I think it was yogurt at one time," Francis said cheerfully. "Or maybe pasta, can't really tell. Who wants to be the first to try it?" He glanced at the disgusted faces in front on him. "You're the man Louis! It was great of you to volunteer!"

"I didn't volunteer," Louis muttered.

"Here," Francis said, trying to hand the container to Louis. "It probably tastes good."

"Then you eat it. I think I'm going to be sick."

"Fine, you're loss," Francis replied. His fellow survivors backed away as he opened the container. Francis reached inside and pulled out a bag of chips.

"Francis!" Zoey cried in exasperation.

Francis grinned. "I found four of them," he said tossing the bag of chips to Zoey. He tossed two more to Bill and to Louis. "That's all there is." Francis lowered himself to the floor, opened his bag of chips and began to eat. His fellow survivors followed suit, Louis grumbling in annoyance about Francis as he did so. They sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to make the food last as long as possible. Outside they could hear the infected wandering around.

"Have you noticed how some of them appear to be in pain?" Zoey asked suddenly. "They moan and hold their head. Maybe the infection causes pain."

"That's a good point," Bill said. "You may be right. Only problem is that not all of them do that."

"I hate vampires," Francis added through a mouthful of food, spraying crumbles all over Bill who scowled.

"They're zombies," Louis and Zoey corrected at the same time.

"Whatever! I still hate them."

"If they are in pain then were doing them a favor by killing them," Louis said thoughtfully.

Francis rolled his eyes. "Next you guys will be saying that they're just sick and misunderstood and that we should use words instead of bullets. Maybe we should all join hands and sing kum-ba-yah with them." Zoey and Louis roared with laughter and even Bill chuckled.

"Kum ba-yah," Louis said, shaking his head. "Francis, where do you get this stuff?"

"The back of a cereal box," Francis replied seriously. The survivors laughed again. A hunter's high pitched shriek pierced through the air. The survivors had their weapons in their hands instantly. The hunter shrieked once more but its voice was fading, indicating that the hunter was not heading in their direction. The survivors breathed a sigh of relief.

"Wimp," Francis muttered.

"Right people," Bill said. "We should get some rest. We've got about eight hours of daylight to go until we can head out. Two hour shifts for each of us then."

"I'll go first," Louis volunteered.

"Sounds good," Bill said. Louis sat in front of the safe room door on a box cradling his shotgun in his arms. The other survivors were asleep as soon as they had closed their eyes. Bill lay on his side on top of his sleeping bag. His assault rifle lay next to him. Zoey was on her stomach, one hand resting on her sniper rifle. Francis was on his back with his hands laced over his chest. He had a smile on his face and was snoring happily.

Outside the infected roamed. Soon the survivors would be on their way once more, searching for a way out of the nightmare their lives had become.