Do you really want to know?

I wake up, the smell of the garbage rotting in the July heat almost overpowering. I hold back the urge to retch, I pinch my nose shut and take deep breaths through my mouth to calm down. I look at the light seeping in through the cracks in the doors. I pull the stick from under the metal edge and though the U brackets I installed on the doors. I listen and I don't hear them, I lift the door and look around. No one is sight. I climb out of the dumpster. I chose this dumpster because there is a fire escape above it. This is my other way to escape if jumping down to the street was not an option.

I don't remember my name or what my life was like before the world was overrun with zombies. I wonder if my amnesia has helped me survive or another symptom of the bleak life I lead. The duct tape around my right, upper arm is uncomfortable but I resist the urge to remove it. That's how I keep the heart shaped locket on the broken chain with me. I don't know why it is important but it is.

I hear gun shots and laughing and I dive under the dumpster. People have become more dangerous than the zombies. I hold out hope that I will find a group of people that I could join and work with to make things better. The only people I have seen so far have used the need to fight the zombies and search for resources as a license to shed their morality. It is an us versus them mentality and everyone outside their group is them.

The six of them walk straight down the road. Just a glance down the alley, where I hide. They didn't see me. I wait fifteen minutes, lucky this part of the city is quiet. I walk down the alley carrying my aluminum baseball bat. I have a 9mm pistol in a holster on my belt with two extra clips. That is a last resort as the noise of the gun shots would gather more danger than I could fight off with the pistol.

I move slowly and carefully when there are places I could hide. I run through areas where there are no hiding places. Luckily, I seem to be in good shape. I look through cars and explore buildings for things I can use, primarily food. Most of my searches come up empty but I scrounge enough to survive.

It seems that group of six people I saw earlier have split up to search. I see one of them pointing a gun under a car quietly barking orders. I can't make out what he is saying but there is a kid that can't be more than 12 under the car. I consider taking a side street and pretending I didn't see this. Wouldn't be hard, I don't remember much of anything else, maybe this would drift into the haze in my mind. There is no telling when some or all of his friends would arrive. I can't walk away, ignoring wrong doing is the first step forgetting humanity. I sprint up behind the guy pointing the gun under the car. He hears me coming and spins around. I close the distance before he can point the gun at me and swing the bat at his head. He was so focused on trying to shoot me he doesn't try to block or dodge, the bat hits with a sickening crack. He immediately crumples to the ground. The boy is out from under the car, staring at me with eyes as wide as saucers. When I look at him, he turns and runs away from me. Smart kid. I wouldn't hurt him but he doesn't know that. I take the gun from the guy I just hit and remove his backpack. I check his pulse, he is still alive. I drag him to a nearby car, load him into the back seat, and close the door. That will keep him safe from the zombies. There's nothing I can do to keep him safe from the living. Maybe his friends will find him before anyone else does.

I creep into a building, an old manufacturing plant. I make my way to the second floor. There are many zombie bodies on the floor but nothing moving. I think a group of people must have gone through here looking for supplies and killed anything that moved. I hide behind an old machine, a window providing light from outside. I search the backpack and put what things I can use into the military duffel bag I usually have on my back. I find jeans and a T shirt. That guy was bigger than me so these will be baggy but fit. There's a few cans of vegetables and a small photo album. I don't usually take bags away from living people. Living or dead, I never keep the bag. Sometimes people have friends, they recognize the bag and hold you responsible. People that notice you running away that will normally let you go, will give chase if they they you wronged someone they knew. I crept out of the building. I checked the car. The person I hit was still in there. I dropped the photo album outside the car. I want him to have his pictures but I will not risk opening the door and having him wake up, angry and looking to fight. I hear voices, the group must have come together and started looking for the missing member. I ran into a side street and paid for my haste. Two zombies that were lumbering down the street came at me. I swung the bat, hitting one in the head and knocking it down. I didn't have time swing the bat again, I thrust the end of the handle into it's head. I felt a burning, stinging feeling in my shoulder, and heard the gun shot. I ran into the building on my left. There shelves knocked over on the right. I jumped between two shelves and got on all fours to stay low and watch the door. I heard shooting outside. Whoever shot me must have shot the zombies and the other ones that arrived.

There were three of them, they enter and as I guessed, they did not think I would stop near the door. They walk past me. I sprung up, grab the last one around the throat, and put my gun up to his head, “Drop it”

The one I grabbed drops his pistol, it clatters on the concrete floor. One of the other ones aims a pistol at us. The guy next to him has an assault rifle, he let it go so it hangs on the sling and slowly clapped. He smiles and states, “Normally we would shoot our friend and offer to let you join the group. We believe in survival of the fittest. As you took out our other friend with your bat, you can take his place. Lower your weapon and your life gets much better from here.”

I counter, “You two leave, in a few minutes I'll let this guy leave. We'll pretend we never met.”

The guy with the rifle, his eyes narrow, “We never lose”

As soon as I saw the eyes narrow, I knew there would be no peace. I pulled my hostage so we both started falling backward as rifle guy said the word lose. I fired three times at pistol guy then three times at rifle guy. A group of zombies rush in the front door. I run to the back of the building. I hear screaming as the zombies attack the other people. One zombies notices me and shambles toward me. It's the girl from the picture in the locket. I remember her name, Annie.

The memories come flooding back. The first day of the zombie assault on human society, five of them burst into my apartment. My daughter, Annie and I ran into my bedroom. Before I could move the bureau to block the door they broke through. I grabbed the aluminum baseball ball and swung at the first one. Annie is only eight, I have to protect her. All five were still rushing, they drove me through the window, over the fire escape rail and into the dumpster where I have been sleeping. The locket with the broken chain had belonged to my ex wife. It was in my jeans pocket as I was going to bring it to her before all hell broke loose.

I holstered my pistol and put both hands in front of me, “Annie, it me, remember? Come on, remember me?”

Sadly she did not remember me. She rushed, I moved to the left and kicked her shin so she would trip, I knew I had to put her out of her misery. I couldn't bear to use the bat on her, even if I had it. I left it in the shelves when I ambushed those guys. I pulled the pistol and shot her once between the eyes. I heard the others coming toward the sound of the shot. I run toward the back of the building, sobbing, no idea what I would do if I escaped this immediate danger.