The trip was absolutely horrid, and not because half-eaten corpses and ghouls litters the streets (which was bad too), but because neither of us had anything to say. Nothing to comment on, no music, no anything, just static. And it was Christmas, it was cold as hell. Then a thought came to my mind: a lot of people didn’t make it this far, why in the hell am I complaining when we’re lucky to be alive?

“It’s Christmas,” I say,”I can’t believe for so many people it has to be spent hiding out in some old, dark, and decaying building.”

“Shame, it is, but we have our own lives to worry about.”

“You aren’t wrong there, but, it’s saddening.”

“Yeah, and we shouldn’t be dwelling on it, like I said, we have our own lives to worry about.”

There was a sort of awkward silence. Then a sound. Well, not really a sound but a lack there of. The car was starting to slow down. Shit! Is it already out of gas? There wasn’t any time to think what caused it, the sharp turn ahead almost told me what to do: jump.

“Tuck, and roll!” I say. I open the door and jump out into a ditch, I can only assume Austin followed suit. When I landed my body flailed and I  rolled through the ditch, the pain I felt was almost unbearable, it didn’t feel like anything was broken but I probably had a concussion, or at least black and blue marks all over me. I began to slow and stopped on my back. I let out a sigh of relief, that feeling of relief didn’t last long, I head metal crash against a wall, and reality caught up with me, I heard footsteps, and they were loud. Rustling through the small woods to my left. Damn. And for the second time in two days I had guns in my face

“The hell do you guys want?”

“Oh, good,” I hear a light voice behind the gun toting assholes, they move aside at the man’s command. His drab is unbelievable (at least for a zombie apocalypse) he had on a red coat like the British soldiers wore in the colonial times, and he had no guns or provisions on him, just a sword. “You’re human, am I correct?”


He held out his hand, to help me up, I take his hand and he hoists me up into my feet. The pain sets in. I broke my foot, I wince in pain.

“Are you alright?” Redcoat says, reading my pain from my face.

“No, I think my foot is broken.” I wince again whilst trying to put pressure on my foot.

“You’re welcome to stay with us, as long as you haven’t been bitten,” He says

“No chance,” I say, and take my copy of The Zombie Survival Guide out of my backpack, “with this I’ll stay alive ’til the end of this infection.”

“Good,” he says doubtingly, “we say your friend take the tumble from the car too, we could go get him and make sure he’s still alive.” Redcoat told a man with a red Mohawk to go to the adjacent ditch and get Austin. I stood there still in pain not knowing what to do. So I waited keeping quiet, to be sure I don’t screw anything up.

When the guy with the red Mohawk came back he was pulling Austin over against his will.”Dammit, I told you we were going to save you,” the guy with the red Mohawk says.

“Jack,” Redcoat says, “let go of him.” Jack let’s go of Austin’s arm. Austin walked over to Redcoat, “Who are you, sir? A friend of this gentlemen I am sure.” He points to me.

“My name is Austin, and you are?”

“Vincent, nice to meet you Austin.” Vincent takes a bow. “Are you hurt?”


“Well, your friend over here has gotten his foot broken,” Vincent says pointing at me, “and since yoi lost your ride would you like us to escort you to where you are going?”

“Sure,” I say, “do you have a camp or somewhere that I can rest until my foot gets better?”

“Yes we will take you to our camp.”