permanently.”
“See, now that’s a skill we could use here. Eventually, bullets will run out. Arrows can be retrieved, or as you said, we can learn to make them, but no one here has ever shot an arrow before.”
“We’re not staying. We have to keep moving. We only stopped for supplies.”
The old man looks unhappy with Jordan, as though he thought better of him and now he’s being disappointed.
“You’re going to drag her all over hell and back with them on the loose? You’d be safer staying here.”
“I have to get to my uncle.” I say suddenly. “He’s alone on his property. He needs us. That’s where we’re going.”
“Where’s your uncle?”
“Corvallis.” I say, happy it’s not a lie. It’s the first honest thing I’ve said to this man.
“Well then, we’ll give you back your gear, send you out the back door and you can be on your way.”
“Without the other bow and extra arrows?” Jordan asks knowingly.
Or the sunscreen.
“You’ve got nothing to trade for it, so no. You won’t be getting them.”
“Wait.” I say, sitting forward. “What if I teach you? We won’t stay indefinitely, but what if we stay for a day or two and I’ll teach you how to shoot?”
I know Jordan won’t like this, but it’s our only shot. He needs that bow, and after this experience, I don’t know when I’ll ever get him into the mood to loot again. The two lonely pills in my pocket are like a ticking clock in my ear, counting down my moments of clarity. There’s that pharmacy nearby, so close I can feel it in my skin like sunshine.
“What about him?” the man asks, pointing at Jordan.
“He stays with me, no question.” I reply.
“Yes, but we’ll be feeding him and you. You’ll be earning your keep but what about him?”
“I’ll help you fortify the building.” Jordan offers. “You said you have women and children here. Another set of strong hands to help with heavy lifting has to have some value. And that front door, it can’t hold forever. Other looters or the undead, doesn’t matter which, eventually one will break through and you’ll lose everything.”
The man considers Jordan’s proposition, even glances over his shoulder at the young man behind him.
“I’ve been saying the same thing since we got here.” the young guy says with a smirk.
“Yeah, I know.” the old man grumbles. “Alright, she teaches us how to shoot a bow and you help Taylor with the grunt work of fixing that front door, and you can have your arrows and bow.”
“Jordan needs to be able to take the lessons as well.” I tell him firmly. “He’s never shot one and I’d like to teach him before we hit the streets again.”
“Fair enough.” the old man says with a nod and offers his hand to us. Jordan shakes it first and then I do the same.
“I’m Cal, by the way. And this, as I said, is Taylor.”
“Jordan and Alissa.” Jordan says in response.
“Alright, Jordan and Alissa,” he says, slapping his hands on the table and rising. “Let’s get started.”
***
I chose a bow for Jordan and spend a good deal of time with him fine tuning it to work for him. I have four others in my “class”, including Taylor. The others are two men a little older than him and a quiet, pretty young woman about my age. I wonder how many people are here in this building, but I avoid asking questions because I can tell they are still wary of us.
I set up targets beside the front door, where the zombies are still trying to get in and their moans can be heard through the glass. I want all of us to get used to tuning them out, to focusing through the anxiety of having them near. It’s good for me too because I am acutely aware of their presence and I catch myself glancing at the door every other minute just to see that it’s not cracking and spider webbing under the pressure of their onslaught. Jordan isn’t great at shooting, not at first, but I hope he’ll get better with practice. He’s actually the
“See, now that’s a skill we could use here. Eventually, bullets will run out. Arrows can be retrieved, or as you said, we can learn to make them, but no one here has ever shot an arrow before.”
“We’re not staying. We have to keep moving. We only stopped for supplies.”
The old man looks unhappy with Jordan, as though he thought better of him and now he’s being disappointed.
“You’re going to drag her all over hell and back with them on the loose? You’d be safer staying here.”
“I have to get to my uncle.” I say suddenly. “He’s alone on his property. He needs us. That’s where we’re going.”
“Where’s your uncle?”
“Corvallis.” I say, happy it’s not a lie. It’s the first honest thing I’ve said to this man.
“Well then, we’ll give you back your gear, send you out the back door and you can be on your way.”
“Without the other bow and extra arrows?” Jordan asks knowingly.
Or the sunscreen.
“You’ve got nothing to trade for it, so no. You won’t be getting them.”
“Wait.” I say, sitting forward. “What if I teach you? We won’t stay indefinitely, but what if we stay for a day or two and I’ll teach you how to shoot?”
I know Jordan won’t like this, but it’s our only shot. He needs that bow, and after this experience, I don’t know when I’ll ever get him into the mood to loot again. The two lonely pills in my pocket are like a ticking clock in my ear, counting down my moments of clarity. There’s that pharmacy nearby, so close I can feel it in my skin like sunshine.
“What about him?” the man asks, pointing at Jordan.
“He stays with me, no question.” I reply.
“Yes, but we’ll be feeding him and you. You’ll be earning your keep but what about him?”
“I’ll help you fortify the building.” Jordan offers. “You said you have women and children here. Another set of strong hands to help with heavy lifting has to have some value. And that front door, it can’t hold forever. Other looters or the undead, doesn’t matter which, eventually one will break through and you’ll lose everything.”
The man considers Jordan’s proposition, even glances over his shoulder at the young man behind him.
“I’ve been saying the same thing since we got here.” the young guy says with a smirk.
“Yeah, I know.” the old man grumbles. “Alright, she teaches us how to shoot a bow and you help Taylor with the grunt work of fixing that front door, and you can have your arrows and bow.”
“Jordan needs to be able to take the lessons as well.” I tell him firmly. “He’s never shot one and I’d like to teach him before we hit the streets again.”
“Fair enough.” the old man says with a nod and offers his hand to us. Jordan shakes it first and then I do the same.
“I’m Cal, by the way. And this, as I said, is Taylor.”
“Jordan and Alissa.” Jordan says in response.
“Alright, Jordan and Alissa,” he says, slapping his hands on the table and rising. “Let’s get started.”
***
I chose a bow for Jordan and spend a good deal of time with him fine tuning it to work for him. I have four others in my “class”, including Taylor. The others are two men a little older than him and a quiet, pretty young woman about my age. I wonder how many people are here in this building, but I avoid asking questions because I can tell they are still wary of us.
I set up targets beside the front door, where the zombies are still trying to get in and their moans can be heard through the glass. I want all of us to get used to tuning them out, to focusing through the anxiety of having them near. It’s good for me too because I am acutely aware of their presence and I catch myself glancing at the door every other minute just to see that it’s not cracking and spider webbing under the pressure of their onslaught. Jordan isn’t great at shooting, not at first, but I hope he’ll get better with practice. He’s actually the
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