Well, he would’ve looked funny if it weren’t for his pale eyes, if I couldn’t see bones poking through his skin, and if there wasn’t blood all over his mouth. Blood equals death. Blood around the mouth means the monster must’ve killed people. Eaten them, even.
Maybe everything I’ve heard about them is true. It was childish of me to ignore everything being said. Perhaps the other kids were more switched on than me from the start.
I actually think my heart fully stopped beating as I stared at the man for a moment. I don’t even know if I was breathing; I went into some kind of shock. I stood there looking at him, as if time had completely stopped and there wasn’t anyone else around.
As if there wasn’t any danger at all.
It wasn’t until I heard a bullet firing that I snapped back to normal. Having never heard a gunshot before, it frightened me. I didn’t think it would be so loud. It stunned me and reminded me that the monsters, or “zombies,” are killers. Murderers with no remorse. As his head exploded into about a million pieces and he fell to the ground in a pool of gunk that was so bad I don’t even want to describe it, I realized he had to die to make sure we didn’t. There aren’t two ways about it: it’s kill or be killed.
That’s a lesson I need to take with me, so I don’t end up on the receiving end of the second option.
Next time, I won’t let shock get to me. I’ll be smarter, better, braver. I’ve seen one now; I’ll be better prepared. I have to be, because if one managed to get inside, then there’s every chance it’ll happen again. I’m going to have to find some inner strength within me to make sure I can kill when the time comes.
I never thought I would consider myself and the word “kill” in the same sentence, but nothing is the same anymore. This is the world we live in now.
“We need to work out where he got in!” Mia yelled, knowing better than any of us what was going on. “The noise of the gun might draw more. We have to be even more careful now.”
Everyone snapped into action, doing exactly as Mia commanded. They all started to see her as I do, as someone to be admired, respected, listened to. I wanted to be proud of her. I wanted to be happy on her behalf. She finally had what she wanted, she had a purpose, and if anyone deserves it, it’s her.
But I didn’t, and I don’t.
I hate to admit it, but the ugly snake of jealousy is still running through my body even now. I can’t turn it off. It isn’t that Mia got here much, much later than me and she’s already found her place; it isn’t even that everyone trusted her words for once; it’s that they got a piece of her, and I feel like she’s mine.
I’ve been friends with her the whole time. They haven’t. They don’t deserve her now. They don’t deserve to see how awesome she is. I can hear them outside my tent, talking to Mia right now, and it’s getting on my nerves. It just isn’t fair.
I don’t want them to take Mia away from me. I don’t know what I’ll do without her now. Does that make me a bad person? I’m not sure. I can’t help how I feel.
I Learned To Fire A Gun
I cried myself to sleep last night, sad about everyone stealing Mia away from me, and now I feel silly about it. I don’t know why I allowed myself to get so worked up about losing the best friend I’ve ever had. She likes me as much as I do her; deep down, I know that. When Mia came to me first thing in the morning acting as if nothing had changed, I knew I’d been a fool. With her beaming smile and sweet demeanor, it wasn’t long until all was forgotten.
Then she said the ten words I know will change my life forever: “I’m going to teach you how to shoot a gun.”
“What? Why?” I gasped in total shock. “Are you serious?”
“Gaby,” Mia grabbed my shoulder and cocked her eyebrows at me, “if you’re going to survive this world, you have to know how to shoot a gun.”
Me: “I do?”
Mia: “If you don’t, a time might come when you’ll regret it.”
I never thought I would ever shoot at anything; I didn’t ever think there would be any need for someone like me to own a gun. I don’t like violence. I’m not keen about any form of fighting. When the world ended, even with scary monsters everywhere, I never thought about it. But now, after what I saw yesterday, I think it might be a good idea. I don’t want to be useless, completely hopeless if any of those beasts gets in here again. I want to be able to take care of myself and other people too.
I already tried to think of myself as a killer. Now it’s time to put it into action.
Me: “Okay, maybe you’re right.”
There’s one obstacle in my way, and I’m afraid it’s a big one.
I have to convince my mom it’s okay. I have to get her to agree to me handling a dangerous weapon that can inflict death. Even in this world, I’m not sure I’ll be able to do it, but I want to try. Mia can shoot. If she can do it without her eyesight to help her, then there’s no reason my age should hold me back. If the time comes that I’ll be in so much danger I need to shoot, then surely it’s better I know how, right? This should be an easy sale.
So why do I feel like I’m about to freak out at the idea of bringing this up to my mom?
She’s helping to rebuild the damaged wall at the moment, so I could probably get away with doing the lessons without permission, but Mia doesn’t want to cause any unnecessary family drama. I suppose after everything she’s been through, I can’t argue with her decision. She doesn’t have her mom anymore; I do. I’m going to have to suck it up and get the words out there somehow.
Here goes nothing…
Me: “Mom, Mia’s going to teach me how to shoot.”
I decided to tell rather than ask. I don’t know why, but it seemed to be the smart choice at the time.
Mom: “What are you going on about, Gaby? Don’t you have stuff you’re supposed to be doing? The essay you’ve been working on, maybe?”
Me: “More important than being able to defend myself? Not really.”
Mom: “I don’t know if it’s wise. A gun?”
Me: “I won’t be silly, Mom. I’m old enough and sensible enough.”
Mom: “I don’t know…”
Me: “Mom, I have to do this, okay?”
I ran off, leaving it at that. I decided to take the lack of answer as a “yes” because this is something I need to do. Mom is too busy to worry about me anyway, so this is fine. I’m sure if Mom was paying proper attention to me, she would’ve agreed it’s a good idea.
She needs to trust me, that’s all.
Wow, that was intense! Much harder than I expected it to be. I never knew there was so much to shooting a gun, and my brain is spinning with everything I learned. I’m going to write down the main points as a reminder in case it’s all gone from my mind tomorrow.
- A revolver has a spinning cylinder for the bullets.
- A semi-automatic has a strip you pull out, called the “magazine.”
- You always keep the gun pointing downwards when not shooting, even when fiddling with it. Unless you want an accident, that is.
- There’s even a special way to hold the gun when pointing toward a target: two hands, palms flat, strongest index finger on the trigger, weakest hand keeping the gun steady. It’s a lot to take in, but I think I did okay in practice.
- It’s best to stand with your feet apart to keep balanced.
- You have to use one eye along the top of the gun to aim.
I only fired the gun once in the end after all my early morning excitement. Mia spent the rest of the time going over everything else with me. She drilled the words over and over into my head, making sure I couldn’t forget them. She told me the theory of firing a gun was just as important and that I needed to learn that first. Supposedly next time I’ll being doing more actual shooting.
I tried to tell Mia I learn better from doing rather than listening, but she wouldn’t have it. I suppose because of her own experiences, she’s more cautious. Now I’m more eager than ever to be useful in any way I can.
I shot once. I missed the middle of the target, but I did hit it. That’s got to be a good thing, right? Actually, I did learn one more thing about shooting from that one shot, that it hurts. The bullet left the gun with such pressure I fell backward. Right now, it doesn’t feel like something I’ll be able to do well, however much practice I have, but I’m going to keep trying.
This is one thing I really don’t want to give up on.
If I can shoot, I’ll be a force to be reckoned with. I’ll be strong, I’ll be dangerous, I’ll be powerful. I’ll be worthwhile, almost as worthwhile as Mia. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. It’s enough to keep me keen, even if I’m struggling.
I Beat the Night Terrors
My dreams last night were awesome. Now that I know how to shoot (sort of), I could imagine myself being a badass. I dreamed I was strong, that I could easily kill the monsters, that everyone in the camp looked up to me. I woke up feeling awesome.
I’ve had many sleepless, dark hours caused by night terrors, by dreams of me being overwhelmed by the zombies, even when I didn’t know what they looked like, so the thought of actually defeating them is crazy cool. I never wrote about the nightmares before because I wanted to pretend they weren’t happening. I wanted to act like I wasn’t totally bothered about everything going on in the world, but now that I can see myself in a different light, it doesn’t matter anymore.
That’s the person I need to be, and I’ll do anything to get there.
I no longer have that empty feeling in my chest. I finally feel good about myself. I feel brave, like I could take on anything. It’s going to be a good day. Maybe that’s all I need to write in my essay today. I might take this to Miss Penley already to see if I’m doing a good job with my essay project. I like what I’ve written so far, but it’ll be pretty cool to get a second opinion.
Oh my God.
I don’t know what’s going on. I’m scared. My heart is pounding, and I feel sick; this is horrible. How can things have gone from so good to so bad in a few short minutes?
I was walking over to the school to show Miss Penley my work when a loud scream pierced through the air. I don’t know where it came from or who it was screaming, but I do know it means danger.
And danger means “them.” The monsters, the infected, the zombies.
I’m supposed to be better now; I promised myself I’d be brave next time this happened. I thought I could do it, especially after the gun lesson. But I can’t. The first sign of trouble and all bravery flew out the window. I hid. I jumped under a table and screwed myself up into a little ball. I didn’t even need to think about it; I knew I needed to hide.
I’m not entirely sure how much time has passed, but I’m still hiding now. I can hear horrible things going on outside, noises that have come from the depths of the night terrors I thought I’d left behind, and I’m hiding from it all like a scared little bunny rabbit. I’m writing to keep myself distracted, to block out the sounds, but I don’t think it’s working. Everything’s still getting through, haunting me more and more with every passing second.
I want to peek, to see for myself what’s happened, but I can’t seem to make myself do it. My pulse is beating too loudly. My legs are frozen. People might be dying out there, and it’s all I can see in my mind. There could be monsters everywhere, and I’m too frightened to even look.
I’m a coward. Perhaps that’s all I’ll ever be.
Mia is here.
As I was about to give up and curl into a ball forever, she crawled in under the table right next to me. I thought she was one of “them,” I thought I was going to die, and I didn’t know how to react. I’m too cowardly to fight and defend myself. That much I’m sure of now. I probably would’ve rolled over to let it happen.
How pathetic is that?
Mia: “What are you doing?”
Me: “Writing.”
She didn’t even question it. Mia nodded as if it was a totally normal thing to do in the middle of the end of everything.
Mia: “It’s horrible out there.”
Or maybe she assumed I didn’t understand.
Me: “I know.”
Mia: “I’m going to have to go back out there in a minute to help everyone. All I need is a gun. You don’t know where there are any, do you?”
Me: “No, I’m sorry.”
I wanted to scream at her to stay with me, to stop endangering herself for the sake of other people, but the words got stuck in my throat. The one person who listens to me and I’m too scared to tell her how I feel. What does that say about me?
Mia: “Wait here. I’ll be back soon.”
So now I’m still sitting here like a coward under the table, writing while everyone else fights, when what I should be doing is helping my friend. I know she survived before “out there,” but she can’t see. She needs me, and I’m letting her down. I’m being useless again. What on Earth is wrong with me?
I need to look.
I need to take some deep breaths and look. Maybe once I’ve seen what’s going on out there, it won’t seem too bad. I can’t just sit here anyway. What if everyone dies? I might not want to be killed, but I don’t want to be the only one left alive, either. I might’ve moaned in the past about being a kid and no one listening to me, but now I feel like a child, too young to do anything by myself.
I won’t last if there’s no one here to look after me.
I need to look.
I Really Did Try
As soon as I pulled the sheet back, I spotted my mom in trouble. She was on the ground not too far away from me. The zombies were getting nearer to her. I had to do something since everyone else was distracted with their own fight. I wasn’t left with any choice. It was as if fate was giving me one last chance to be brave, and this time I took it. I grabbed my book and pen, unable to let go of them for some reason, and I bolted toward her.
The bravery came back, if only a little bit.
As soon as Mom saw me, something clicked in her too, and she snapped back into action. Maybe she was on the verge of giving up only because she didn’t know where I was. Maybe we’re more alike than I ever considered before. The moment our eyes met, she pulled her injured body from the ground before any of the infected could reach her. Then she grabbed my hand, and she ran. I didn’t know where we were running, and she probably didn’t either, but I put all of my faith into her. I let her take me wherever she was going.
For one moment I was glad to be so young, so out of control.
Until I saw Mia.
She must not have found her gun, because she had a knife in her hand, and she was stabbing it here, there, and everywhere. I hadn’t seen her in a panic before, but I suppose the situation called for it, and for once, even she couldn’t be strong. Maybe despite the fact that she’d been “out there,” she hadn’t stumbled across anything quite like this before.
If she had, she probably wouldn’t have survived. It’s hard to imagine anyone living through anything like this.
Including us…right now.
There were so many of them I couldn’t tell who was infected and who wasn’t anymore. If I was struggling, there was no way Mia wasn’t.
She needed help, but I kept moving along with Mom. Helplessly, uselessly.
Mom pushed me in the food barn, and she told me to wait while she helped other people. I shouldn’t have agreed, but I did. I nodded and parked my butt, as compliantly as a dog.
I’ve been sitting in here for ages now, more impatient with each passing second. I’m scared, I feel like a much younger child than I actually am, but that’s the way I’ll stay if I don’t take action. If I want to change, then I need to put in the effort to do so. If I finally want to become the person I’m so desperate to be, then I do have to force myself into it.
I need to go out there.
There isn’t anyone else in here. None of the other kids are hiding. If everyone is fighting, I cannot be the only one who isn’t. It isn’t right. If I’m scared…I’ll ha
ve to get over it. That isn’t too hard.
Right?
Plus, I can’t get Mia’s panicked face out of my mind. I want to check on her, to help her if she needs it. She’s been my friend ever since the day she first came in here, and that’s important to me. If she needs me right now, I want to be there for her. Locked away in here, I’m no good to anyone.
My mom might need me as well. I see her leg is bleeding; she isn’t in any condition to be fighting. The longer I spend in here, the more people I love could be getting hurt.
I need to work up the courage. I need to block the memories of the zombies out my mind. I need to think about Mia and Mom, not them. That can’t be too difficult. I have to find a way to make it work. I’ll do some deep breathing, I’ll do some pacing, and then I’ll be okay.
The sooner I get back out there, the better.
I have a gun!
I actually have a gun. I can’t believe it. I found one while walking up and down the room trying my best to calm myself down. I think it must’ve been knocked there by accident at some point since it was lying on the ground, half under a box. It even has bullets in it; I remembered how Mia told me to check when it’s a revolving one, and there are some there.
It’s like fate. This is meant to be. This is my purpose.
Okay, so it’s only four bullets, but four’s better than none. It isn’t enough to tackle the amount of zombies I’m sure are out there, but it’s protection.
That’s destiny, isn’t it? Telling me to go for it.
I can’t turn my back on such a strong sign. This is what I want to do anyway. I want to check on Mia. I want to check on Mom. I want to make sure everyone is safe. I have to go.
13 Night Terrors Page 27