This chapter is shit, fair warning. If you're reading this it has not been revamped.

A loud thud sounds somewhere in my cabin waking me from my slumber making me shoot up and hit my head off a two by four, “Ugh… FUCK IT!” I yell holding my head and slumping back down “What in the hell was that!?”, grabbing my pistol and Looking over the edge of the loft still holding one hand to my head, I scan the room looking for anything out of place until I see that one of my ammo cans fell off the kitchen counter spilling some of my 7.62 on the floor. “God damn it, I just got those rounds.” I say, begrudgingly getting out of bed and checking the time. “5:00." I say looking down at my watch. "that means I got a whole four hours of sleep today. Not to shabby”.

Jumping down from the loft favoriting my lift arm due to my right one still being gashed open along the bicep, I walk over to the can and the spilled rounds before I start to pick them up “I can’t believe that thing was able to get that close to me and land a solid hit even.” I think setting the can upright and actually clamping it shut this time before walking over to the closet where I store my arsenal and ammo stockpile "I mean it's in a lot worse shape than me right now considerin’ the last I saw em' it was trying to stop the bleeding from the hole my hatchet made in his chest.” I remember yesterday's tussle with a intellectually superior infected with a knife in the town over, “No matter I still need to clean and properly bandage it, probably going to leave a scar too…any more and I’m gonna end up lookin’ like a damned crossword puzzle .” I think shutting the closet door after setting the ammo with the other numerous cans.

After cleaning and wrapping my wound properly, shit burned like hell considering all I had was rubbing alcohol. I get dressed in my kit consisting of military fatigues, nicely worn in boots, military belt and suspenders including ammo pouches and other assorted items, low weight plate carrier, and finally topping off with my short duster and matte green kevlar helmet. Not a pretty get up but it’s functional and that's all that matters anyway.

Throwing some wood into the potbelly stove in the middle of the room, making note to get more, and closing down all the doors on it to make sure the fire doesn’t go out while I’m gone I go over my mental check list.

Alright so, I’m dressed… check. I have Water… check. I have my empty alice pack... “Ummmm, shit where is it?” I mentally ask myself looking around the two room cabin, “Oh there it is.” I say grabbing it off the nail next to the door and throwing it on. Okay now back to it. Got my Knife… yep, and my hatchet, yes. I slide them both into their respective sheaths, knife on my right thigh and hatchet on my left. “Oh shit almost forgot,” I think sliding up my pant leg and placing a small dagger in my right boot, “and now we’re good there.”.

Walking over to the ‘living room’ table readjusting my belt I start to gather the guns and ammo I’m going to bring with me today. After getting my belt to rest properly on my hips I throw my .357 in my chest holster along with twelve extra shots that I put in a small pouch on my belt, a 380 auto in my left boot, and a extra mag for it in my right boot next to the knife. Making sure all of my weapons are firmly placed in their proper places nodding I walk over to the closet, just a piece of ply-wood with hinges and a handle, and decide what main gun I need for today's activities. Opening the door and looking at my arsenal I look between my options.“So do I take my AR, my 1903, my M40a5, my M240 Bravo, or a plain jane Marlin lever action?” I think to myself looking in between my choices, “Eh, I’ll just take my Ar it is the only one I got a can for and a lot of ammo to boot.” I decide grabbing it and five extra mags and closing the closet door before throwing it over my shoulder walking to my front door. Also don’t look at me like that I do not have some weird gun fetish or something, I just like being prepared…… Okay I do, but fuck off alright.

Opening the door and stepping out of my cabin with a *squelch* from the mud the rainy weather has left behind, I walk to my humvee the National Guard so graciously let me liberate from them, even got the 50. Cal on top even though it’s dismounted right now and in the small lean-to connected to the left side of the cabin.

Popping open the door and sitting down in the humvee with a grunt I push over the little lever holding until she finally roars to life. Throwing her into first I start down the trail I made myself through the woods to a side road that will take me to a city of sixty thousand people or so, well they were people but now it’s just dead bodies, overrun checkpoints, and the infected. I frown and take a large swig of the whiskey I keep in between the passenger and driver seat, just thinking about those damn things drives me to drink… more than usual that is.

<><><>Forty minutes later<><><>

About half way through the hour and twenty minute drive I notice it’s getting extremely overcast to the south and decide to pull over to see what the weathers like and to refill the fuel. Stopping the truck and stepping out of my golden chariot closing the door behind me with a click I look to the south and see that wall clouds are starting to form and move towards my location. “Shit, you can already feel the moisture in the air.” I grumble to myself rubbing my fingers together and walking around to the back of the truck, “At least the sun won't be out today, damned things love to wander out of their spider holes when it gets warm out.”. Lifting the sloped back hatch on the humvee I grab one of the six jerry cans kept in reserve due to the low fuel milage of the humvee. Opening the gas cap and inserting the jerry can into the spout I hear a rustle from the ditch behind me, jumping a bit and turning around I set down the can and take my knife from its place on my thigh and slowly start to walk over to the ditch getting up on my toes trying to see over the steep decline.

The rustling stops, I stop. Tensing for a fight I raise my knife and bring my other hand to the pistol in the chest holster sliding it free. Walking a bit slower towards to ditch and cocking the hammer I get around five feet away before I hear the rack of a shotgun. Pausing for a second and raising my revolver one man with a rifle, one with a shotgun, and one with a machete come out of the tall grass with their weapons leveled at me.

The one in front taking a step forward, the main guy I presume, looks at me smiling “Drop your knife and take that hatchet of your belt then give me that pistol and the keys to that there humvee behind you.” he demands with a smirk on his face pointing his shotgun at the humvee, his friends chuckling behind him.

Not saying anything I drop the knife then slide the hatchet out of its sheath with my left hand, the two weapons clattering to the ground. " Just one question first before you rob me of all my belongings.” I replay to the man

“What might that be boy?”, He questions with that stupid grin plastered on his face.

“Why are you three,” I say looking to all of them, “Out here in the middle of nowhere waiting to ambush people, Wouldn't y’all have more luck with this sort of thing closer to the city?” I question. “Unless you were searching cars which is a fruitless effort in itself.”. Walking towards them slowly reversing my gun in my grip holding it by the barrel. “I mean it’s pure luck that I happened to stop here, what if I just drove right on through? You would be shit out of luck.” I explain Stopping right in front of the leaders gun still with my revolver reversed.

“None of that matters.” He states tightening his grip on his shotgun and frowning, “Still got you though didn’t it?”

“Huh I guess you did get me.” I chuckle reaching my gun forward, him reaching for it. “But-” quickly pulling it back, he and his cronies raising theirs . “-you forgot one thing.” I say putting my hands up in a nonthreatening manner.

“What’s that?” He asks with a scowl on his face.

“You forgot that you can always get snuck up on.” I say, pretending to look behind him.

“The fuck?” he says before quickly turning around with his gun raised, his friends doing the same. “There’s nothing ther..”

Switching my revolver around in my grip and raising it I fire two shots, one hitting the man on the left in the throat, arterial blood spraying a good two feet, and the other catching the man on the right in the upper back before I pistol whip the man with the shotgun in the temple and kick him in the side of the knee with a snap.

With the man on the left on his knees gurgling trying to stop the bleeding due to the golf ball sized hole now associated with his throat and the man on the right just laying face down in a growing pool of blood I kick over the still alive man in front of me holding the side of his head and tucking his now broken knee under him cursing all the while. “You son of a bitch,”. He says barely able to open his eyes no doubt due the the severe concussion he just received, “You just killed my brothers.” he yells at me still clutching his head.

“Well let me send you to where they’re going.” I say raising my foot.

“No, please wait I don’t want to di---”. Bringing my foot down and cutting him off with a stomp to the chest, the very distinct sound of ribs breaking under pressure filling my ears before….. Silence.

Taking in a deep breath in with a sigh I cast my gaze upon the three dead men, “I can’t believe they fell for that, I mean it’s the oldest trick in the book.” I say to myself in disbelief walking over to the man on the left holstering my pistol and getting down on one knee to check his pockets for anything valuable. “Seriously though how did ya fall for that?” I ask the corpse poking it.“ I mean who the fuck is that stupid?”. I state still talking to the dead man. “ Great now I’m talking to corpses, how much more lonely can I get?”.

After a quick pat down only finding a pack of cigarettes and a half full bottle of water I walk over to where he dropped his rifle and examine it “A bolt action .233, good thing my AR can chamber both 5.56 and .223.” I think working the bolt back and forth pocketing the four loose rounds before throwing the rifle in the ditch and walking to the face down man to the right of me.
Kicking him to make sure he’s dead, things usually never just fall over and die like that, and stomping on the back of his neck for good measure, I flip him over with my foot and bend over to see what he had on him. Starting with his coat pockets and working my way down I feel a bump on his hip, knocking the coat away I see that he had a 1911 on him. Pulling the pistol free from its place in his waistband and examining it I push the magazine release on the grip of the pistol to see how much ammo the guy had. Sliding the magazine out of the gun I see that he only had three rounds in the mag and none in the chamber. “Man these guys must have been desperate considering how low on ammo, food, and water they were,” I start to think. “I wonder why they didn’t just shoot me in the back and take my stuff, it would've been so much easier that way too.” Shrugging I finish my thought not finding anything else on the man other than two empty mags for the 1911 in his back pocket.

Putting the pistol and its extra mags in my left coat pocket “Guess I was just lucky” I mumble walking back towards the humvee picking up my knife and hatchet putting them back in their correct spots before picking up the shotgun the point man had, turning it over in my grip and looking it over. “Dayum, never thought I’d see one of these” I say admiring the chrome finish of the shotgun. Bringing the gun closer to my face to read the model I see it reads Remington 870 Marine Magnum along the receiver, “ Ohhh I am definitely taking this with me” I say laughing to myself walking back towards the vehicle.
<><><><><><>

After emptying the jerry can into the humvee and setting the can back in the back I pull a black duffel bag I keep behind the rear right seat and unzip it, setting down the shotgun and the 1911 plus the mags with it I start to sort through the bag to see what ammo I may have to reload them.“Okay so I’m gonna need .45 And 12 gauge,hmmmmmm” I think digging through the loose rounds and half empty boxes. “Ah.” I say picking up a fifty round brick of .45 and setting it aside. Picking out random colored 12 gauge shells from the bag and checking to make sure they're all buckshot I set them aside to be loaded into the shotgun later. Opening the box of .45 I start to fill the mag with three in it before eventually moving to the second and third, sliding one mag home and racking the pistol I set it aside before moving to the shotgun.

Pulling the rack back a tad to see if there was a round in the chamber I flip the shotgun over and start to slip three rounds into the bottom tube before it tops out at 6. “Huh, so it seems everyone in that group was low on ammo then. Point man only had four shells, the guy on the left only had four rounds in the rifle, and the guy on the right had a machete and only three in his pistol.” I wonder throwing the loose 223 in the bag before zipping it up and sliding back behind the seat putting the pistol back in my coat pocket and taking the shotgun in my left hand. “I really am lucky they didn’t just kill me right off the bat.” I look over to the three dead men again. “The first three people I’ve seen in damn near half a year and I killed them. Should I feel bad ?” I think my moral dilemma over staring at them. “Nah, fuck em’ they deserved it.”. Closing the hatch on the truck and turning to go back to the drivers side.

Opening the door and sliding inside I set the shotgun muzzle up next to my AR in the passenger footwell before closing the door and starting the truck, “I’m real surprised the infected ain’t here yet they usually run towards any sound they hearrrrrrrr…... oh there they are.” I say deadpanning as I look up from the radio and see three of them walk- running towards the truck. “Well shit.” I say, quickly swiping through songs on my phone before picking one “This’ll do.” the song starting. Setting my phone down I throw the truck into first approaching the fastly upcoming infected, shifting to second before a *THUMP* *THUMP* *THUMP* is heard over the music playing in the cab, looking in the left mirror I see three very very dead infected laying in the road missing some pieces that are probably stuck in the brush guard now. Laughing I look forward ahead reaching for the bottle of whiskey before grabbing it and taking a few swigs, “Oh man it’s gonna be another long day.” I chuckle looking up and seeing the storm getting closer before taking another drink.

So this is the first chapter of my first story, and frankly it feels a bit forced to me. I'm very new to dialog so please bare with me on that and leave any tips if you have any, they would be much appreciated.
I'm writing this to get better at writing stories and characters. So this means it could be kinda rough for a while, just a warning. Oh also, pones will become a part of the story in chapter three if you're wondering.

Also if you happen to dislike this story for any reason please tell me why, I really want to get better so any constructive criticism would be awesome :). Thanks guys.