UFSW Hunger Games/Issue 6

This is Issue 6 of the UFSW Hunger Games, written by KnowledgeProspector.

Issue 6
Cole sits inanimate on a bench, his eyes planted on a leafless tree with twisted branches jutting out from it. This park was the safest place they could find, and even then, he can already hear the familiar cries of infected from a far distance.

“Cole,” Billie calls, from his right ear. He had almost forgotten her sitting there right next to him. He looks at her briefly before looking down on the cement he stood on.

And he remembered it. His latest suggestion, his possible solution to solving all their problems; play the game. Kill all the others and find a way out of this. It was just him, Billie, and that guy Alfred left. There were more pressing matters at hand.

“Let’s check a few more buildings before we call it quits,” he says, standing up and leaving Billie uncertain. She had just shared to him their failed supply run and the inevitable arrival of night slowly shrouding the sky two minutes ago.

“How are we getting out of this?” she replies, as she tries to catch up with Cole, who was already a few steps away.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “Ask me that later.”

Billie pauses at first, and follow him shortly. She could really sense how upset he is just from his body language. She’s known him this long.

Cole walks toward the abandoned building from where he left Alfred, and sees him exiting out. “Find anything?” he asks in a near shout. Alfred looks at him and shakes his head.

“Empty, like all the others…” He holds the shotgun in his hand by the barrel and looks at them both.

Brad and Chuck walk down along an empty road, after having fled a whole horde of zombies not too long ago. Brad taps his pockets and takes out two shells in his hands. Even if they’ve noticed the impending night come upon them, Brad’s focus to hunt for others was unhindered.

“Look at that,” Brad says, his eyes trained on a building with a small speck of yellow light in one of the windows. “Follow my lead.”

Brad jogs toward the building, with Chuck trailing him. They stop at the nearest corner of it, with Brad leaning against the concrete. He looks left and right, then looks at Chuck. “You see those zombies?” He was talking about the two small clumps standing a distance away from them, near the outer walls. Chuck takes a gander and sees the clumps shrouded in bad lighting.

“Spread them around this area. Don’t get bit.” Brad then jogs to the other side, expecting Chuck to do it with ease. But before he vanishes, he stops, and walks back to him.

“You still against me?” Brad asks, making Chuck turn to him.

“What?”

Brad walks closer to him, not changing his look. Chuck eyes the double-barreled shotgun and takes note of his weary look. Like he had any other choice. “I never said I was against you.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding, and going back to what he’s doing. It looks like Chuck was going to be of some use to him after all.

Chuck, on the other hand, continues to think; maybe if they kill a few more, he can finally make his move. First, though, he’ll need a weapon of his own. He doesn’t want to kill Brad, but he just can’t shake the feeling that he’s playing this game from the start.

The sky was getting even darker. Mark, Ridley, and James had no choice but to hold up in one of the rooms of this abandoned building. They’ve managed to find a few scraps in the form of a bag of stale chips and a couple of canned goods.

Mark stands near the second door just next to him, eating the chips, as he looked at the bonfire and the two people standing between it; the last two of his companions.

Their recent losses have hit them harder than before, now that they have time to think about it. Three people left, all in an instant. He doesn’t even know how he’s going to win the contest now that they’re all working together.

“You know who would have made this better?” Ridley suddenly says, looking at his can, then to the two men. “Geary… Geary would have made this bearable.” He looks at James and Mark with a smile, but it didn’t look like they wanted to talk.

Instead, Mark goes back to his chips, about to think of their next plan of action when he hears fast-moving footsteps coming from the window outside. He quickly looks at it, but sees nothing; just the cold, hard cement, and a portion of the outer wall.

“I think someone’s outside,” he says, catching the two men’s attention as he goes back to his respective spot.

James was just about done with his can when he grabs the rifle on his side. “I’ll go take a look,” he says, throwing his can aside and making a clicking noise. “Gotta take a piss anyway…” He stands up and lumbers to the exit.

James speeds up his eating, hoping to follow him; he just doesn’t know what else can happen at this point. He crumples the plastic bag in his hands and walks toward the bag resting against the wall, so that he can arm himself.

Ridley looks at him, wondering. “We gettin’ out of here?” he asks. Mark just glances at him while he bends down to grab the bag.

Before he can zip it open, he hears a loud exploding shot that freezes both him and Ridley up, and makes them look at the exit. “What the fuck—”

He pulls the bag up to his shoulders when he sees a figure sprint across the exit. A flash of light sparks out of it and Ridley is suddenly thrown to his front on the ground, his shoulder gushing blood.

“Son of a fucking—” Mark, out of surprise, continues to stand frozen, all the things in front of him happening way too quickly. He crouches down and opens the bag, fumbling for any weapon he can find.

“M-Mark—” Ridley calls, in agony. “Get o-out of here—” Mark was about to jump to Ridley’s assistance when he sees yet another spark from the exit; he hides just in time as the pellets explode in the wall behind him. “Fucking hell—” Ridley continues to mutter.

Mark exchanges one more look between the two doors, and quickly leaps into the one to his opposite side. He takes cover on its right side goes back to fumbling through the bag, taking quick peeks at the room. He finally takes hold of a pistol, composing himself.

But before he can take yet another peek, a zombie turns up from behind him, forcing him to shoot it. As it falls, he sees about eight more of them lining the dark hall he was going to have to get through. “Shit…” he mutters, beads of sweat flowing from his forehead.

With the thought of the gunmen and zombies piling up in his head, Mark grabs his bag and runs to the direction of the hall, effectively leaving Ridley for dead. He shoots at least three of them in the head so that he could exit cleanly.

The pain in Ridley’s shoulder was too agonizing; he saw all the blood flowing from it, thinking it to be too late. Instead, he crawls toward the exit, when he is suddenly pulled to his front. There were two figures, one kneeling down on his level, and another standing above him. His killers.

Brad looks at the pitiful red-headed man, his shoulder grazed pretty well. He can proudly say each shell he used had its worth.

Chuck hops up from his kneeling, looking at the rock in his hand. “We might not need this,” he tells Brad.

“Good. Throw him out back. Should keep the zombies busy while we leave.”

Mark caught a glimpse of James’s corpse on his way out; he had his back against a wall, while a few zombies devoured his remains. It only fueled him to keep going, until he eventually reached the exit.

He doesn’t know how all the zombies got here; this lot was practically empty when he saw it earlier.

He is forced to set his bag down, this time having a more composed mind. In just half a day, he’s already lost everyone. At least now he doesn’t have to deal with betrayal, or tension in the group.

It was just him left. Him against everyone. He takes a second pistol out of the bag and a clip to reload the one on his hand.

He doesn’t want to think more of his current role; all he knows is that there’s no turning back now. He was going to have to play this game as quickly and as efficiently as he can. His friends have been brought down. Now they’re all looking up to him.

He finishes reloading his gun and shoots the first zombie that got too close. He zips the bag closed and swings it to his shoulder, ready to fight his way out of this.

Night has officially arrived; things were starting to become harder to see from a distance. Conner looks at Kim as they traversed the empty street.

“Probably time to hold up, maybe indoors. Get some wood while at it,” he says to her. Kim just nods in agreement as she looked over the two young boys they’ve just picked up.

They’ve just spent their time gathering all the food they could find; the yield was just a couple of cans and a few energy bars.

They continue to walk when she hears something speeding off behind her. She turns around and does a quick scan, seeing someone looking at her hiding behind a building.

“Conner,” she calls. Conner notices her look at a certain direction and looks with her. “A pair of eyes were… looking at me. From that building.” Conner gives her a doubtful look as she points over to it.

He paces toward the spot, past Kim. Conner slows down to a cautious walk as he got nearer, leaning against the wall and taking a quick peek. The building just leads no another… empty corner. “I got nothin’,” Conner tells her.

Kim didn’t want to blame it to hallucination. She was about to look deeper when Conner stops her in her tracks.

“No. You’re not gonna look into it.”

“This won’t be long—”

“Kim.” Conner walks closer to her. “It’s night, I’m fuckin’ exhausted, and I just want to eat. I don’t want you to cause me more… trouble than I can afford.”

Kim was starting to look impatient. “This won’t be long. If anything, you’ll probably hear some kind of distress call or… or something. I’ll be back soon.”

Conner looked unhinged, his look a mix of anger and sluggishness. He looks left and right and says “You better be back for dinner. Or else…” He points to the two young men behind him. “I’m gonna let those boys eat your ration.”

Conner stomps the other direction, while Kim resumes her search, watching them leave her sight before she herself vanishes. She makes the only turn possible in the corner, which was a right, and sees a hidden pathway leading to an opened door.

She felt something different as she reached the halfway point, seeing an infected resting against the wall, its head smashed in with something. She keenly looks at the door and taps the back of her pants for her one and only weapon; a knife. She was relieved to be the holder of it at this moment.

The night added to Kim’s anxiety, as she edged closer to the room with the opened door. She becomes fed up and scurries inside of it, quickly shouting “Hello?” once she steps foot inside.

She hadn’t noticed the weak light in the corner of the room, barely providing the visibility of it. Just below it… was a young man, frozen stuck, looking at her with the utmost uncertainty.

“I—I’m not gonna hurt you—” was the first thing to come out of Kim’s mouth. She looks at the shotgun clutched with both his hands as she edged closer. “Just—just calm down…” It looks like she was taking advantage of the man’s nervousness.

“I c-I can’t do it…” the man says. He keeps transferring his eyes between Kim and the spot behind her.

Before Kim can even catch what the man was looking at, something heavy makes contact with the back of her head. She blacks out, and loses all control.

“What the fuck, Alfred?!” Billie shouts, dropping the wrench on the floor and making a clanging sound. “You were supposed to shoot her!” She steps over from the woman’s body and snatches the shotgun off his hands. She cocks the barrel and looks at the unconscious woman one last time.

Cole watches the three strangers from a different angle in the building, making sure to be out of sight from both them and the infected. There have been a small number of them wandering in from the front area of where the strangers were holding up, which was doorless, and easily visible.

They’ve already started a fire. It was impressive, in Cole’s eyes. But it wasn’t going to last for long.

He hears a loud shell sound from his right side, signaling their next move. Billie must have finished the job. He observes for a second as the only adult of the group shoots his head toward the direction of the sound.

Two groups, split up. Three scavenging, two somewhere else. Those were the first things Mark picked up once he took notice of them in this plaza. There were multiple buildings he can use to hide in, and zombies to use against them. Some were scattered around the plaza itself. Others he brought along with him.

He stands near the backdoor of a Payless Shoesource building, rummaging through the bag for his best and possible weapons. There were a good number of bullets, a combat knife, another handgun, and a scoped rifle. Perfect for picking them off.

He straps the rifle on his shoulder, sheathes the knife on his belt, and pockets the pistol in his hand. Three people to hunt. Two people to search for.

He scans the building one more time, just so he can remember where he’s going to come back for his bag. He runs to the right direction, toward the three others who were scavenging.

He stops at yet another building, stabbing a couple of zombies that got in his way. He crouches down next to the nearest pillar, and prepares his rifle.

The group seemed to be busy fighting the zombies; the other two were being blocked by zombies, while one was right in the middle. It seems to be a girl looking… wearily around her, carrying her green bag close.

Naomi is faced with a dilemma; she’s given her only weapon to Danny, one of the new guys, and he was busy fighting with it. She was carrying what they’ve managed to procure in one of the houses, which was just a couple canned goods of corn kernels. She looks left, to Danny, then right to Joe, then behind her; another building, a dead end. Maybe there’s a backdoor they could use.

As she is about to run to the door and call the two men, a hole explodes in her neck, causing her to drop on the ground uncontrollably. She tried to stop the gushing blood from her neck as she watched the cans roll away from out of the bag, creating an eerie, dragging metal sound across the pavement in her ears.

Mark wanted to stick around, but he’ll be sure to attract attention by now. He leaves the remaining two others to their possible deaths and starts running to another direction, his attention shifting to the other pair of people he was going to have to hunt.

He continues to sprint through the plaza, minding each and every building he passes by. But something tells him he didn’t need to keep searching; he can see distant figures of two people standing in front of a building in the far right corner. He sways to the nearest tree and sits, waiting and praying for them to go back inside.

“The fuck was that?” Amelia asks, squinting to the direction of where Danny and the two others went. She turns to look at Sarah and asks, “You think they’re okay?”

Sarah was scanning the whole parking lot. She returns Amelia’s look, and just shrugs.

“Hmph,” Amelia grunts, and she turns around to go back inside the store. It was a Jamba Juice, and she was looking for some kind, any kind of food they can eat.

She playfully hops over the counter and resumes rummaging through the shelves and cabinets. She turns around for a quick glance to see if Sarah was with her in the room.

Sarah, thinking nothing of it, goes back to the mountains of boxes. So far, she’s only found Styrofoam cups and plastic caps.

“You think we’ll be able to make anything with all this?” Amelia asks. Sarah stops what she’s doing for a second and looks at her. She wanted to say that they’ll need electricity to even get started, but she knows Amelia. So she goes back to the boxes.

This box was no different. She throws it aside, and opens another one. Digging through the Styrofoam peanuts, she finds… plastics of straw. Nothing, nothing, and nothing.

“A-ha!” Amelia suddenly shouts; Sarah looks at her and sees her flashing a bag of jelly beans. “Better than nothing!” Sarah smirks, and goes back.

She was about to open another box when she hears muffled… footsteps dragging on the concrete, fast approaching them. When she goes to look at it, she sees a man, a tired look in his eyes, scrapes on his face, strap of a rifle strewn across his chest, pointing a gun at Amelia.

She steps in front of Amelia as the man opens fire, catching all the bullets she can possibly block.

Deaths

 * James Harrison (No Hope)
 * Ridley Johnson (Hope On The Rocks)
 * Kim Coleman (Extinction)
 * Naomi Banks (Morts-Vivants)
 * Sarah Daniels (Surviving, Not Living)