3rd installment of a serial story, the second installment can be read clicking here.
Blood stained boots slung over their shoulders, Jaya and Ryan walked the deserted shoreline, toes curling and releasing sand hardened by winter’s grip, footprints effaced by the undulating flood current, it was a much needed respite. Overhead, the gulls’ mews echoed in the blush of the dawning day, the last of the stars retreating to daylight’s embrace.
“Seven!” Come back, boy” – Ryan dared a whistle hoping to get the dog’s attention, now a blur of golden fur 50 yards ahead.
Yesterday, Ryan and I had taken out 20 rabids between us, as Miguel and Anna, the last of our band of survivors to break off from the group, headed north 5 days earlier; we especially missed their help in this last skirmish.
Admittedly, it was a little easier traveling with just Ryan and Seven; although Seven was still a puppy, he was incredibly smart, learned quickly and, as it turned out, could smell a rabid a mile or two out; I had no doubt there was something very special about Seven.
True to most of the zombie apocalypse movie scripts in the before time, rabids were most active during the nighttime hours, disappearing as soon as the sun hit the horizon.
“Hey, Jaya, sun is rising fast, we’d better get going… ”