Induction

I winced in pain as I dropped to my knees. Adam’s gaze followed mine as I took in the damage my fall had done. The scrapes on my legs were bleeding and Adam stopped me as I started to wipe the blood away with one of the pillows.

“Stop, it will get infected. I’ll be right back.”

He returned with a package of gauze and a tube of antibiotic ointment. My fear began bubbling into anger as he treated my knees. I could feel my heart pounding and my cheeks getting hot as I thought of how Jake had slunk away without waking me. No doubt his motives were to eliminate the inevitable fight that would have ensued.

By the time Adam was done treating my scrapes, all traces of Jake had faded away. I could no longer hear the sounds of the convoy’s battle as it made its way to the fuel truck across town. The fires raging in the distance from the night before were nothing but smoldering ash. The smoke sat in the sky like an impending storm. I was so mad at Jake for sneaking away, but a part of me understood his reasons. If I had my way, I would have tied him down and forced him to stay. I hated that he went, but understood and even admired his decision a little.

“Teach me how to shoot,” I blurted out to Adam. The words were out before I even realized I was saying them. They were as much a surprise to me as they were to him.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

I considered his question, knowing that his time spent with the soldiers since arriving to Target had included substantial weapons training. “I think so. I can’t sit around idle today doing chores while Jake’s out there risking his life. My adrenaline is pumping, so it’s as good a day as any.”

He unslung his rifle and began explaining all the components.

I found the gun rather sexy. Sleek, black metal, it was a bad-ass weapon. Adam taught me how to use the scope to line up a shot, how to engage the magazine, where to grip, and finally the best way to hold it. With the stock of the gun set into my shoulder, I raised the rifle and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. I pulled again, nothing.

“What am I doing wrong?”

“While that may be a loaded question, you may notice that thing called a magazine missing. Guns don’t shoot on fairy dust alone. It helps to have bullets in them.”

“Ass.”

“Not the first time I’ve been called that.”

The levity was short lived as Jake’s face appeared in my head.

“Patience, young grasshopper. Take your finger off the trigger and put it here.” He placed my finger on the trigger guard. “Never keep your finger on the trigger. The trigger guard is meant to prevent accidental discharge. The last thing you want to do is misfire. You can’t take those back.”

We moved down to the parking lot where Adam showed me the proper procedure for loading the magazine and loading a cartridge. I’d never win any gun trivia, or be able to fix a jam that they always show at the worst times in the movies, but I felt confident I could point and shoot. I made my way to the edge of the barricade and lined up a Bogey. It felt cooler to call them that instead of zombies. As I exhaled, I pulled the trigger. The muzzle shot up in the air and the bullets whizzed by two feet above its head. The laughing of the men behind me didn’t go unnoticed, and my cheeks burned from embarrassment. I yelled, “Do over” over my shoulder and scanned the area for the grossest zombie.

I peered through the scope and lined up the cross-hairs on the perfect target. When I say perfect, I mean it. Just a few hundred yards from the barricade I found the walking corpse of Vinny’s ex-girlfriend Lena. Seriously, what are the odds? Her bloated and festering body had seen better days. She walked upright, but with a stiff step and drag motion. Her left foot was missing entirely and ended in torn shreds of flesh that dangled each time she lifted the limb for another step.

Daphne sat next to me and let out a low growl at the approaching form. The humorous thing about a seven-pound dog is that they sound like a strangled cat when they growl. We exchanged an evil grin. Okay, so maybe my face had the evil grin and she was just looking back at me with dog-face. It sounds better if we both had the evil grin though.

Me and my dog, cohorts in crime.

Rambo had nothing on me. Knowing I was about to take down the bitch better known as the Rossi nemesis, I felt charged. Oh yeah, this was gonna feel good. I was prepared for the kick this time and aimed for center mass. The gun let loose a short burst and the zombie’s shoulder exploded in a spray of congealed goo and shards of bone. The disgusting thing, once known as Lena, kept coming, and the next shot created a perfectly placed hole in the front of her head. The exit wound was messier, and I could only imagine the size of the fissure as her brains splattered the asphalt. Take that, skanky ho. Fuck with my family, will ya?