Shooting Lessons

I watched my brother with a sense of unease, as he jabbed the zombie crawling beside him with a stick and laughed in amusement. The zombie let out an offended groan and swiped its withered hand at him. 

“This one’s still a bit wiley.”

“It really is a miracle you’ve managed to survive this long.”

The zombie seemed unlikely to make a sudden lunge for him, in his defence. It had been a woman, at least I thought so because it had long hair. Its legs had been shredded to ribbons. They dragged after the creature’s torso like decaying, mucous-y tendrils. It had one working limb, the right arm, which was now pulling its body along the frozen ground in fits and starts. The frostbite must have been kicking in since it could only move the arm at the shoulder. It jutted the arm out robotically and then its body slithered after. Its head was the most well-preserved; it still had a nose and both eyes. The eyelids had decayed away however, which gave it an unfortunate wild-eyed stare.

“It can barely move. Just don’t freak out.”

Zach crouched down and waved his hand in front of the zombie. Its low groaning went up a notch and its slithering became more urgent.

“Such a show-off.”

“Well if you’d shoot the thing in the head I’d be saved from the deadly imminent danger, wouldn’t I?”

“Give me half a second, God.”

I want you to know I’m so much smarter than Zach. Always have been. He is two years older than me, but I was the one helping him with long division. It breaks my heart that being nerdy has no advantage in society since the Outbreak. And now Zach is the competent one, the teacher. A better teacher than I was too. He’s a lot more patient and hides the condescension better than I did. I hate this so much.

My arms were aching from carrying the crossbow. I was also wearing a bulky motorbike jacket which made everything twice as heavy. The jacket was for protection, since it’s armoured and made of thick material that can’t be bitten through easily. Just in case you thought I was cool enough to ride a motorbike.

I don’t do this kind of thing often. I never set foot off the compound apart from these lessons. I took a first aid course a few years ago (pre-Outbreak) and have been reading medical textbooks, trying to train myself to be a nurse. That is generally a pretty useful occupation. Not for zombie attacks of course, there’s no cure for that. But there’s a lot of physical activity at the compound; people repairing things or hunting animals in the forest nearby. There’s lots of injuries that require stitches, or breaks and sprains to treat. I even got to assist with a hernia surgery last month. But nursing is only useful in emergencies. I need some survival skills for daily life, according to Zach. So he started taking me on shooting lessons. 

We can safely say that if I was left to fend for myself in the wild, I would last half a day before being eaten by a bear or a mountain lion. Or a zombie. At least I probably wouldn’t last long enough to starve to death. But Zach insisted that I do some practice just in case.

“Don’t overthink it. Just point and shoot.”

Easier said than done. I don’t know if you have ever shot somebody, but aiming a weapon at the head of something with the ability to look in your eyes as you do it, it’s pretty freaking surreal. Zach had stepped all the way back and now I had the zombie’s full attention. It sensed that I was the weaker of us two and hurried its slithering towards me. I took aim, breathed in, then fired. The crossbow bolt landed in the mud about a foot to the left of where I was aiming.

“Ugh. This is pointless.”

“Don’t give up. Everyone’s bad at it at the start. You’ll never make progress if you keep beating yourself up.”

Since when is he this master of wisdom? I loaded a new bolt as the zombie turned to the one stuck in the ground beside it. I tried to hurry; if I could shoot the thing while it was distracted, that would make it a whole lot easier.

I held the crossbow up and aimed at the zombie’s head. Thankfully it was still pawing and biting the bolt. I evened out my breathing and inched my way closer, telling myself I could do this.

It was the frost. The freaking frost. I mean I like that it freezes the zombies, but man is it slippy. So I went flying, my feet zooming straight out in front of me, crossbow flung in the air, landing several meters away. I had definitely caught the zombie’s attention now.

I whacked my back off the ground underneath me in a way that I knew, under normal circumstances, I would find very painful. Instead it was just a dull thud compared to the panic that was quickly overwhelming my senses. I could near the overjoyed groan, an unmistakable “gotcha!” from the zombie.

I felt the pull of the zombie on my legs. Now that it was so close to catching some prey, its energy sparked up. It was a lot livelier now than it had been. Its fingers once again had their dexterity as it grasped and pulled at my legs, sharp and strong, like cat’s claws.

“Oh my God! Help! Zach!”

Where was Zach now I actually needed him? I could feel the zombie biting into my boots. It wouldn’t be long before it had ripped into them. I tried to kick and squirm free, adrenaline bursting through me. What an embarrassing way to die, I thought. I scratched at the ground, uselessly pulling away clumps of snow and dirt. The zombie climbed higher and higher up my legs.

I heard a thud and the zombie was abruptly off me. I crawled my way forward. My limbs were frantic and working of their own accord, on total flight or fight mode. My heart was almost leaping out of my chest.

“There you go. It’s alright.”

Zach pulled me further away from the creature. I sat and listened to my hysterical breathing. Tears were gushing out of my eyes before I could stop them. My brain was aware that the danger had passed and was telling my body to relax, but my body was having none of it. 

“I can’t... Do this…”

“Just chill. You need practice, that’s all. I was just like you at the start.”

He was sweet to lie to me. I couldn’t possibly lose him. I would die if I lost him. I had already lost everyone else. And now the tears were flowing even more.

Zach punched me hard in the shoulder.

“Ow! Jesus Zach.”

“No time for that here, we’re always in danger once we’re past the guards. Crying can wait til we’re home.”

I struggled to my feet and lumbered after him. He sauntered along the icy path, graceful as a gazelle. My back was sore now that the adrenaline in my system was ebbing. If there’s one thing I miss from life before, it’s a hot bath to ease my sore muscles. And my mother’s home cooked dinners. And apple pie with cinnamon for dessert.

The forest was peaceful now that the zombie had stopped moaning. I listened to the birds and the wind rustling the trees. You have to take whatever moment of pleasure you can, in this world. The sky was blue and enormous, it reminded me of summers at our lake house. Zach and I would spend all day climbing trees and jumping in the lake. Dad would try and teach us how to fish until we got bored of it and just swam around. Mum would sit on the shore and read. I hoped I would get to see that lake again, just one more time. 

“Hurry up! I can’t spend all day saving your lazy ass.”

“Sorry I can’t sprint on the ice like you.”

I staggered up the path. My back was throbbing and my arms hung at my sides like lead anchors. At last, through the trees, the walls of the compound came into view. All I wanted to do was crawl into my bed by the fire and sleep for the next twenty hours.