Hope On The Rocks/Issue 92

This is Issue 92 of Hope On The Rocks, entitled "Don't Garrett".

This issue is Garrett-centric.

714, Don't Garrett
The zombies haven’t spotted us yet. I hear other people figthing off the dead things, and I just hope that will leave me and Frank safe down here. Well, I don’t hope it like that, I don’t want anyone to get hurt... But you know what I mean... Or... “Hey.” Frank whispers, pointing at a zombie without legs. It is slowly approaching the car and might very well see us. If that happens, we’re as good as dead. I take out a hunting knife, not going to use it. I just hope Frank will take care of this. “What do we do?” I whisper anyway, just to sound like I want to help. I don’t though. “Shut up.” Frank barks, just above a whisper. “I’m thinking.” Frank was once my assistant, and now he is treating me like crap, just like everyone else. He blames me, and well, I understand that. I did cause a lot of people’s death. But I promise, I will never to anything like that again! Never! “Okay...” Frank whispers, the zombie crawling closer. I think it has spotted us. “I am going to count to three. On three, we get up and shoot our way to that car over there.” I am now shaking. I am not going to leave this spot. There is a lot of zombies up there, and I won’t last for one minute. I will simply panic. “Okay?” Frank whispers. I don’t say anything. I just keep holding my knife with a tight grab. “Okay?” Frank repeats. This time I nod. I don’t say anything, I just nod. “Alright.” Frank says taking a deep breath. I hear him cocking his pistol, and I do the same. My pistol is a simple .22 Ruger. It’s the only thing I can hit anything with. I suck at shooting. Frank is very good at it. He was my body guard for nine years. Then this happened. All the dead people. When it first started I wondered how long I would last. I never thought I would survive for almost a year. “One...” Frank begins counting, and the zombie is very close now. I can smell it. I close my eyes, and think. I am going to sacrifice myself for Frank if needed. He is going to survive this. The group need him. They don’t need me. “Two...” Frank says, and the zombie is now under the car with us. I kick it gently in the head once. It doesn’t react at all, and it begins to bite my shoe. I panic, getting up from under the car. “Damnit, Garrett!” Frank yells, and I fire a few rounds at the zombie. I see Frank getting up as well. Around five zombies are headed for him. I then look back at how many are headed for me. Two, one of them very close. It’s an old man, and right now I am looking the dead man in the eyes. Even though I have the gun aimed at him, nothing happens. I can’t shoot him. He had a life once, just like me. Then the zombie falls over, getting shot in the head. I look, seeing Frank getting surrounded. He has his gun aimed at where the zombified old man was before. As I look him in the eyes, I see how sad Frank is. How many things he regrets, how many things he wanted to have done. I raise my gun, aiming it at the zombies surrounding Frank. It’s only a matter of seconds before he’s dead now. “Don’t, Garrett.” Frank’s final words is. A zombie then bites a chunck of his scalp off. Frank doesn’t scream. It seems like he dies instantly. A tear runs down my chin, and I watch Frank getting devoured for only five seconds or so. Then I begin to fight.

Deaths

 * Frank Moore

Credits

 * Garrett White
 * Frank Moore