The Book of a Few by Austen Rodgers

that the episode at the hospital was just a spook, but goddamn we got spooked good. I could have sworn we were about to get rocked. But I suppose that until we have a solid reason to tie him back up, he deserves to be free. I have realized that we do need his help, even though Branden will never admit to it.
     
    In the morning, we set out to look for more weapons, unfortunately. If we were going to try to outlast this, and try to gather more people to help us all survive, what good are we doing those people if we can’t help them defend themselves? We looked in a few general stores, only to find a hatchet and a couple more baseball bats. It seemed as though guns were completely missing, and I’m not surprised one bit by that. I suppose the best way to get a gun so late in ‘season’ would be to take it off somebody else.
     
    Speaking of firearms, my rifle isn’t operating too well. Almost every time after I pull the trigger, the bolt will lock up. I can’t get it to cycle with it up to my shoulder; I have to physically lower the gun and pop it up with the palm of my right hand. This is a serious problem for me, as it is drastically slowing me down. I feel like I might as well use a muzzleloader.
     
    Unfortunately, on the third-to-last stop of the day, we got careless. Without checking in the back and in a few side rooms, Branden and I fired upon an unsuspecting infected, without knowing exactly what we were up against. Within seconds of firing, we were surrounded by the infected. The building we were in was a smaller sized pawnshop, so those of us with guns were worried about our bullets ricocheting. So in order to avoid shooting one another, we only fired a few times throughout the fight.
     
    During the scuffle, it felt like I was fighting my gun just as much as I was the zombies. I ended up getting bitten because of it. I couldn’t reload, so I resorted to predominantly using my bayonet. The bad thing about that is I can only engage one target at a time. After all was said and done, and the shop quiet, I spoke with Branden about my problem, and how we severely needed to go back to the sporting goods shop where we found the other guns and find the key to remove the trigger locks. He agreed.
     
    Upon examining our condition after the fight, it looked like Branden’s face was beginning to swell up from a heavy punch. All four of us had bites and deep blood-drawing scratches. Will nearly threw out his shoulder. We all agreed that we did not want to experience that desperate of a fight a second time. If it weren’t for Taylor and Will being with us, this oddly large group of eleven infected would have easily consumed Branden and me.
     
    I think I know how Taylor feels now. It is so unnerving getting bitten, even when you know that, as long as Bella’s words stay true, you won’t turn or suddenly lose your sanity. Even though I am still alive—thankfully, lest you forget—it doesn’t feel right .
     
    How the hell is this a zombie apocalypse when this disease doesn’t infect you on first contact? Yes, the signs are obvious; this particular infestation has been rather slow to take hold. It’s surprising how there aren’t hordes of fifty or more infected shuffling their way down the streets. I won’t complain too much because I don’t want to have to deal with that big of a group. Sure, the Cedar Valley’s population isn’t much in the big scale of the world, but I would have expected more instantaneous chaos. Damn you, Hollywood, for engraving that into my brain.
     
    Our return to the sports shop proved to be worth the second trip. While we were all hoping to find the trigger guard key to our extra guns, we found something, or someone else. Joining our group of rabble, codenamed “The Survival Squad,” is a man named Dana. Like Branden and me, he is plagued with red hair. It seems true—gingers travel in packs.
     
    I first met Dana with a gun pointed directly in my face. I was startled, not only by