When Was? (Book 2): Who Are You Acquainted With?

Home > Other > When Was? (Book 2): Who Are You Acquainted With? > Page 28
When Was? (Book 2): Who Are You Acquainted With? Page 28

by Krueger, Allison


  “Then we’re done.”

  “From the looks of this place...” John stopped, and as he looked back.

  Morgan swung his fist into the bottom of his jaw, knocking him to the floor.

  Pulling out his hatchet, he took a swing, making Morgan jump back.

  “It ends here!” Morgan shouted, as John jumped up to his feet.

  “Come on, big bad wolf.”

  Morgan charged at John, causing him to swing the hatchet and just miss his head as he ducked.

  Spinning around, Morgan kicked John in the back and pulled out his machete. “Just like Cascadia,” he said as John hit the floor. “Except this time one of us are not walking away.”

  John got up, ready to swing. “Fuck no you won’t.”

  Morgan grinned, letting out a chuckle. “Fuckin’ hell.”

  • • •

  The Church.

  Jenna licked the juice from her lips. “Did you ever know my sister?”

  “Wha- Who do you mean?”

  “Rachel. The girl daddy showed me in the pictures.”

  “Um, yeah, I guess I knew her a little.”

  “Is she nice?”

  “She used to be. She works for the big scary guy now.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Norman thinks she was scared at first and did it because she didn’t know what else to do... But she’s not scared anymore.”

  Jenna lowered her can and looked up at her mother, confused. “So does she like hurting people now?”

  Janey’s mouth gaped open and she exhaled. “I think she does what she does because she thinks she needs to. I don’t know what all’s happened since we left, but she’s the reason we have daddy’s old home again... She means well.”

  • • •

  The Stadium

  Morgan slammed his fist into John’s face and threw him against the wall.

  Pulling out his knife as Morgan began strangling him, John swung it down into his arm, causing Morgan to release him and jump back.

  Pulling the blade out, Morgan swung, barely missing John’s face as he dropped to the floor. He drove his boot into his stomach. “ANY LAST WORDS?”

  As John reached for his hatchet, Morgan slammed his boot down on his hand, making him scream as blood trickled down his face.

  “THAT’S NOT A WORD, JOHN!”

  The front doors swung open. “NOOO!” Norman shouted, running in and jumping on Morgan, taking him down.

  John was breathing heavily and his face was covered in blood. Watching as Norman and Morgan slammed their fists into each other, he began reaching for his hatchet.

  “Jesus Fuck,” Morgan shouted, throwing Norman off him as Gordon ran in.

  Picking him up off the floor, Gordon slammed Norman against the wall. “Who the hell do you think you’re dealin’ with, you redneck bastard?”

  As John’s fingertips brushed the handle of his hatchet, Morgan grabbed him by the shirt and kicked a door open. “Say hi to Dutch for me!”

  Watching John get thrown into the room, Norman pulled out his hunting knife and swung it into Gordon’s neck.

  Gordon’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Blood spurted onto Norman’s face as he fell to his knees, clenching his wound as blood gushed through his fingers.

  Puling the knife out, Norman kneed Gordon in the face and spun around to Morgan. “Just you and me now!”

  Slowly, a big toothy grin came across Morgan’s face. “Are you gonna fight me and get your ass kicked? Or save your buddy from the room full of Deadites?”

  • • •

  The Church.

  Jenna tipped the can up and slurped down the rest of the juice. “So why was she scared do you think?”

  Using the end of her shirt, Janey wiped off Jenna’s mouth. “She had something to lose.”

  “What?”

  “Your dad... Her friends, family... I guess after she lost everything, she just stopped fighting.”

  “Does dad have anything to lose?”

  Janey stared at Jenna for a moment before putting on a smile. “You finish your beans?”

  She nodded.

  Reaching to her side, Janey held out a plastic cup of pudding. “Made fresh by the people back home.”

  • • •

  The Stadium.

  “Morgan?” Rachel shouted, running in to see Morgan standing over Norman, whose face was covered in blood.

  “I guess it’s your lucky day, Norm!” Morgan laughed as he left the stadium.

  Norman pulled himself up and stared at the room Morgan threw John into. “Dutch,” he mumbled, wiping blood from his lip.

  In the dark room, John was backed into a corner, holding off two infected with a chair while Dutch’s infected corpse stood in the corner, trying to walk forward with a broom driven into its neck. One of the infected had a chair leg through its stomach, and was face to face with John.

  John pushed and pushed as the infected snapped its teeth at him, so close it was biting his beard.

  “John,” Rachel yelled, pulling out her knife and running it into the back of one of the infecteds heads.

  The broom bounced off the floor as she stabbed the other.

  “RACHEL, LOOK OUT!”

  When Was? Part 3: Preview

  October 11th, 2007, Atlanta Georgia.

  Her room in the hospital was lit by the rising sun shining through the tall picture window. The flowers by her bedside were knocked over, and painted on the baby-blue wall in bright orange was the word RIP.

  She sat up in her bed and looked to the machines that were hooked up to her. Some tipped over and leaning against the wall, and all of them off.

  She brushed her dark brown hair out of her face and as she went to climb off the bed she fell.

  “Nurse,” she hollered, trying to pull herself back onto the bed. “Can somebody gimme a hand!”

  As she struggled to pull herself up, she heard heavy footsteps growing closer.

  Thank God. She let go of the bed and fell on her butt. “I tried gettin' outta bed and I fell,” she said as the doorknob turned.

  She waited a moment for it to open and she cleared her throat. “Hello? Can I get a hand?” she asked, grabbing the bed.

  “Who is in there?” a man's gravelly voice asked from the other side.

  “Can you just open the door you nitwit?”

  The man growled and released the nob.

  “Hello? Can you please do you job and get in here? Or find somebody to give me a hand!”

  The doorknob turned again, but the door remained shut. “Who are you?”

  “I’m losin’ my God damn patience!”

  There was silence for a minute until the door was slowly pushed open.

  A giant man stood before her, looking to be close to seven feet tall. He had long brown hair that hung down his back and spilled over his shoulders, and a long bushy beard. He was dressed in black jeans, a dark blue dress shirt, and a brown duster coat. On his hands, a pair of torn black gloves.

  The woman’s eyes frantically scanned the man, and she spotted two large knives on the sides of his belt.

  She gulped. “You a hunter?”

  The man shook his head.

  “You ain’t a doctor.”

  “No.”

  She looked past him. The hallway was dark and full of things from papers to bottles. The walls looked to be stained in blood and riddled with bullet holes.

  “You friend or foe?”

  He tilted his head.

  “Speak!”

  He growled like an animal.

  “What are you?”

  He was silent, breathing heavily as she stared at him.

  “Answer me dammit!”

  “Silence. Noise attracts. And once called, can not be undone.”

  She raised a brow as she wiggled her feet around, trying to get her movement back. “Attracts what?”

  “Protectors.”

  She smirked at let out a short laugh. “And what the hell are they?�
��

  “Dead.”

 

 

 


‹ Prev