Who We Were | Book One

7. The Only Advice

Josh hovered by the door. In his left hand, he gripped a knife where the letters JS had been scratched into the wooden handle and the indentations sat deep against his palm. He shifted the blade when he noticed my eyes locked onto it.

"I don't suppose you've got a jacket I can borrow?" He asked, peering through the clouded glass, the trees outside shifting against the wind. "I had an encounter before and lost mine."

I narrowed my eyes. "Sure," I mumbled. Walking back into the hallway, I pulled open the door to the cupboard underneath the stairs. 

The light inside struggled, flickering on briefly before shutting off. I pushed my arm inside and pulled out a large denim jacket with a cream wool collar. I pushed my nose into it, reminiscing in the scent. It smelled the same as I remembered. 

Closing the door, I held it out to Josh. "This will have to do," I announced, reaching him beside the front door.

He hesitated as he ran his fingers along the fabric. "I'm guessing this isn't yours?"

I shook my head. "It was my dad's," I shrugged.

His lips parted as he tried to push the jacket back into my closed hands. "I can't take this," he insisted.

"Yes, you can." I raised my eyebrows. "And you will."

His fingers hovered in the air before he accepted it. "Alright," he murmured, pulling the fabric over his body and slipping his arms through the sleeves.

"Perfect fit," I said, gesturing towards him. 

The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile as he adjusted the collar around his neck. My thoughts wandered to when I had last seen my dad wearing it and I felt my stomach sink when I realised it was the last time I'd seen both of them alive.

"You okay?" Josh asked, his face scrunched in concern as he interrupted my thoughts.

"Yeah." I lifted my hand to my chest and felt for the chain around my neck. Closing my first around the two rings, I took a deep breath and nodded. "Let's just go." 

The sun broke through the crack in the door as Josh pulled on the handle, casting a warm glow into the house. A soft morning breeze blew around the two of us in the doorway, tugging at our hair. 

I'd already caught sight of the Infected that were left staggering in the road, making my breath hitch in my throat. 

Josh turned his body and brought his finger up to his lips.

"Don't use your gun," he ordered quietly. "Loud noises draw the herds." 

He turned and stepped outside, his gaze unwavering from the beings in front of him. I followed close behind, treading in his path before pausing on the doorstep. 

The wind circled as I took one last look inside the house, the place that I knew to be home. I took a deep breath and pulled the door shut. 

With the faintest click that was it. I wasn't going back.

The thud of a heavy weight landing against the gravel caught my attention and I winced at the sound. As I turned my body back to the driveway, I saw Josh hunched over an Infected, pulling the blade free from the back of its head. 

The body lay lifeless and unmoving on the floor, deep black liquid now pouring from the wound in its skull. The blade created dark streaks against the Infected's white t-shirt as Josh dragged the metal clean across the fabric. I forced my legs to move beneath me, treading over to him. 

He held himself taller and his eyes were narrowed as he watched the staggering bodies a few feet in front of us.

"They're not Sprinters," he whispered under his breath as I stood beside him.