by G. Joseph
I leap from behind the barrel with haste.
"Wait! We're in here." I scream to the outside. A large silhouette moves into view. He stops the heavy door but doesn't say a word. I ask Martin to accompany me and instead he shoves me to the side and leads the way. The man's figure gets larger as we approach but doesn't budge.
"You should watch where you're shooting next time." Martin says to the man. The stranger pushes Martin backward and pulls the container door nearly shut. "Hey, what's your story pal?"
"Be silent for a second. I probably drew more this way with that gunshot. It was a stupid mistake just to save your tails."
"Save our tails? We had everything under control until you came along and got trigger happy."
"Let's talk down there." says the man pointing toward the deep inside wall of the container. The three of us walk to the end and Martin doesn't break eye contact with the stranger. The man is carrying a bag but it doesn't look full.
"Are there more of you?"
"It's just us and we can handle ourselves just fine." says Martin irked at the question.
"You're just kids. Surely you've got parents or a guardian nearby." I step in and answer before Martin blows up once again.
"It's just us Sir. I'm Walter, 17. This is my brother Martin, he's 19. We don't have anybody."
"I see. Well you'd better come with me then. My name is Daniel Thompson. I've got a family and some friends hiding out at a showroom not too far from here." Martin doesn't seem too happy about the offer but I know he's considering it. Neither of us have had a chance to sit back and take a breather. We've been moving from spot to spot trying to find supplies. The three of us walk toward the container door and peak out of the opening. It's not a welcoming sight to say the least. Daniel's gunshot drew in a horde of those creeps who now wander the dock. There's a handful standing right outside of our container looking around like they know we're near. Deflated, we return to the back of the space.
"We can hide in here until they've dwindled down. When there's enough to handle we'll make a run. Say, you boys got anything to eat?" says Daniel.
"Yes Sir, we've got --"
"Walt, stop. We don't know this guy and we barely have enough for the two of us." Martin says cutting me off but making a valid point.
"Martin, is it? I'd appreciate anything to eat even a cracker. I haven't had a thing in my stomach for the past two days. That's why I'm out here and not with my family. We ran out of supplies. I've got a kid and I told him and my wife that I'd return with help. Honest truth is that you two are the first regular folk I've run into all day."
My brother eases up a little and instructs me to give him a loaf. Daniel thanks us and we set our belongings down and sit. It's almost completely black inside the container save for the moonlight shining inside from the three inch opening of the container door. It provides us with enough light to see each other talk at least.
"You boys haven't seen anyone around?" says Daniel.
"We aren't boys pal, we're men." says Martin. "Walt and I been scavenging for several days now. We've seen a few people but I don't recommend you try and recruit their help."
"But maybe we can convince them to aid us. You know working as a group is much better than going off alone."
"They mugged us Sir. Took all the supplies we had at the moment. We were lucky enough to get the things we have now. They didn't want to help us." I say to Daniel.
"That explains why Martin here nearly took my head off with the bat earlier. I'm sorry."
"If we run into those bastards again you can be sure I'll finish what they started. Plus you've got a gun, they won't stand a chance." Martin says.
"Whoa there pal. This weapon isn't to be used on the regular folk."
"The regular folk? Those assholes left us bloody and took our stuff. They deserve what's coming to them. We've followed them this far and I know they're close."
"How do you know they're around here?"
"These scumbags aren't the quietest group of people around." I tell Daniel.
"That would explain why there are so many of these dead heads around. I'll make you fellows a deal. I'll help you get your things back and whatever else we can get our hands on, if you two come and share those supplies with my family and friends."
"Mr. Thompson, as much as I'd like to help your family out it seems like suicide. There were six of them when they attacked us. There's bound to be more."
"Stop being a coward Walt. This fella's gun and my bat make this a piece of cake."
****
CHAPTER THREE
The Camp
