UFSW Hunger Games/Issue 9

This is a preview Issue 9, written by KnowledgeProspector. The issue is expected to be released in between September 27th to September 30th.

Issue 9 (Preview)
Cole, Billie, and Alfred walk along an empty road, the sign of abandonment evident in the ruin of empty buildings to their sides. The air has been uneasy around the three of them, and it didn’t help Alfred; his silence and nervous looks only pushed his suspicions forward. He took in every word they said, even if they were muffled in his ears. Billie was actually thinking of getting rid of him, because he’s weak. Because he didn’t follow through with that plan of killing that woman.

Cole and Billie look at each other; they were walking behind Alfred, and they’ve noticed him taking a few glances, mostly at Billie’s side. Billie’s adamant look on Cole was telling him that she meant every word, and that they really need to clear some air right now.

“Yo, uh…” Cole scratches the back of his head. “Alfred.” Alfred takes a few seconds to look at Cole.

“We don’t… we didn’t mean what we said back there. About getting rid of you.” Cole speeds up to his side. Alfred had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, and his eyes planted onto the cement he walked on.

“Um…” Billie scurries to Alfred’s left side. “… look. I—I was just… worried that you might’ve gotten us killed back there. One mistake like that and … i-it might’ve been both of us.” She walks ahead of him by a few steps, just to see if he was looking. “You gotta get used to this.” Billie transfers her look to Cole. “You might have to do it on your own. We might not be there to… back you up.”

And yet, Alfred didn’t look up. There was so much to process. Killing another person is unimaginable, on his part. But it’s his life, too. If only he had more time to think.

Just a few blocks away, walkers were starting to gather toward an abandoned store. Leroy stumbles out of its door, his left eyebrow grazed, his mouth dripping with blood. He was practically on the ground, clutching his aching stomach. He coughs a few times, and recovers to his feet, standing to find himself face to face with the walkers they’ve attracted. He falls back onto the ground, on his back this time. The aches all over his body were overwhelming, but the sight of walkers was enough help for him to ignore it right now.

Leroy starts crawling back, exchanging looks between the door and the walkers that were heading toward it. Then he winces, as a loud gunshot rings from the entrance; Ken emerges from the door, smoking gun in hand, stepping over the walker he had just shot down.

“Shit—shit—” Leroy scurries to his feet, Ken’s image sparking some energy for him to speed up his pace. He turns and darts onto the opposite, getting a quick glance at Ken before leaving him for good. He just couldn’t fight him. Ken landed most of the blows. Their ruckus got the attention of the walkers, and they were pouring inside the door before he knew it.

“Leroy!!” Ken shouted. He dared not look back, to see if he was pointing a gun at him, so he kept on running. Another gunshot rings out. Leroy almost stops, to see if a bullet pierced through him without his knowledge.

Nothing. There was nothing on his shirt but the blood from his busted lip. He continued to run, away from Ken, away from the walkers that will hopefully spell his doom.

“So… Chuck full of hope.” Rick stretches a bit as the two walk the street, after their meeting and subsequent banquet. The jacket of his suit was slumped over his shoulder, creating a relaxed, casual image. “What brings you here?” Chuck just returns it with a confused expression.

“Oh. Right.” Rick sighs and shakes his head, realizing his mistake. “You don’t know. I don’t know. We all don’t.” Chuck looks away, agreeing with him.

“You know what I’m gonna do when I find that dumbass who got us into this mess?” Rick looks at Chuck yet again, waiting for an answer, but this time Chuck didn’t look up. “Gonna shoot the shit out of him. Then kick his head around a little. Sick fuck and his fuckin’ games…” The humor in his tone dissolves upon finishing his words.

“So…” Rick’s tone changes, signaling the change in subject. “How many you killed?”

Chuck turns to Rick fairly quickly, his expression dropping to seriousness.

“I… I ain’t gonna lash out on ya, bud,” Rick assures. “Just curious.” Rick changes his look, upon seeing Chuck’s expression. Chuck sighs, rubs the scalp of his head.

“I… I don’t know. Two?” It’s something he hasn’t exactly processed yet. He was too busy looking for food and stumbling on this gold mine of a bag.

“Two…” Rick looks away to ponder it a bit. “Better than me.” He

“I… killed this woman. Looked damn cute, too. She was all… trustin’ at first. But I felt somethin’ different. Tried sneakin’ up on me. I swung a rock at her face and she just…” Rick does a fleeting gesture with his right arm. “… got stabbed. By these metal spikes. Like that shit’s fuckin’ placed there just for her…” His expression was changing for the worse.

“I… don’t know, man. I hate… I hate killin’ people.” Rick looks up to the road ahead, then to Chuck. “You fed me. Yer a good man.” Chuck was fully aware of what he’s saying; after all, he’s consumed nearly half of his rations already.

“How’s about we find a way outta this, eh? You an’ me, no bullshit, findin’ a loophole to this shit deathmatch rule.”

Chuck didn’t take time to think about it; he already liked his plan. This was how he wanted to approach it in the first place. Brad was unfortunately there to thwart him, but now he’s gone.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “I’m in.”

Rick smirks. That girl’s death is still messing with his mind, and he doesn’t want to have to do it again. He’s tried his best to forget about it, but he couldn’t.

“Arright then.” He claps his hands together. “It’s a plan. But again… no funny business…”