Z's the game supplies are the gain,

February 17, 2016

I have to be fast and not seen,
I have to be quite and not heard,
My group depends upon me,
For I have a mission,
That I must achieve,
Supplies is the name and Z's are the game,
I scurry fast through the old trails,
And hear moaning from afar,
I must choose another path,
I laughed and turned right,
I slowed to a stop and took a breath,
And I surveyed my surroundings,
Not Z to be seen,
But a old house that can be seen,
I get my trusty rifle at the ready as I speed up the pace,
And pound at the door 3 times to alert the Z's,
When all seemed to be swell,
I entered but staying alert,
I ram-sacked the closets and kitchen drawers,
Shoving all the rations in my bag,
And swiftly move to the upstairs,
Where there stood a shut door,
It seemed to be locked but I had to hurry,
As nightfall was near,
I quickly lace my rifle at the lock and pull the trigger,
Doing very little to slow my haste,
I quickly toss the lock aside and dash in the door,
The coast seemed clear but something was amiss,
The silence was stirring and the stench was fresh,
Something had died by the smell it was close,
I mind no worry to the smell and quickly hurried,
To what appeared to be an vault,
In cased in glass with what appeared to contain guns,
I used the back end of the gun and shattered the glass,
Then I was knocked face forward in the ground,
I felt the scrawny fingers begin to tear at my vest,
As I struggled to turn my way to were I can reach my gun,
I could barely hold it back it was winning,
I quickly wease what little breath I had left as I grabbed my knife,
And shoved it between its eyes,
Blood dripped on my face as I threw him off,
Then I rapidly grabbed the ammunition from the safe,
And headed on my way,
The sunset was in eyesight,
And so was the heard,
I could hear the thousands of shuffling feet,
I had seconds before they caught up,
I jumped past the trees avoiding the obstacles,
Until I saw the fire and smoke of my camp,
Twas then did I realize,
Leaving was my mistake,
The camp was bloodied and torn apart,
And blood and dismembered pieces of who remained,
I felt the tears begin to foam as I saw my wife,
Dead holding what I can only assume was our baby daughter,
Twas then I saw movement in her arms,
It was my baby,
I sighed in slight relieve but still a little teary,
As I grabbed the child,
Who I called Charley,
And heard the moans as the heard got closer,
I quickly surveyed the area and without tension I hopped in a car,
And drove off,

To be continued...






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