This is issue 7 of The Choices I Make.

Issue 7Edit

*THUNK* *THUNK* *SLIT* *THUNK* A few infected had surrounded us in the streets. They kept circleing us and once in a while some of them ran at us. We kept repelling them and after a while their numbers had lingered and we moved in to kill the remainder. I raised my axe and slug it into a small infected woman's chest as she was charging at me. I kicked her off the axe and turned around to face the rest of the infeted, only to be grabbed by one immeddiatly. It was about to bite me when Ronin stabbed it and kicked it off. I got up and saw Malcolm was in trouble; His gerber machete was stuck in the head of an infected cop. And others were approaching him, while he tried to get the machete out. Me and Heiner ran towards him and killed the infected approaching him and helped him with his machete. Then we finished off the remaining infected and looked around for a place to scavenge. Three weeks had past and we all settled in nicely at the hardware store. We got some temts set up in the magazine for privacy. The tents came from a camping store we looted 2 weeks ago, along some bedrolls. However, we know food isn't going to last long enough, for the millitary to come save us. We haven't seen a soldier since the outbreak started. Exept Ariela and Arthur off course, but they could be classified as deserters. Not that a blame them. The story they told, about why they ran is a impressive one. They deserted with honor, not many can say that.

We stood at the door of a barred up cornerstore, it seemed. I told Heiner to break it open, and so he did. He raised his millitary shovel and smashed the boards off in three swings. We stepped inside, the light came in through the boards on the windows. "Whoa!" I called out, when out of nowhere an infected jumped me, but Ronin managed to safe me, just in time, by ludging his switchblade in it's eyes. We placed it on the ground and started looking around. Malcolm found two eaten bodies in the back, it smelled too. When Malcolm and Heiner were looking around, Ronin waved me over. He was sitting, well, crouching next to the dead infected. He smiled, oddly.

"Ever noticed how we don't look at those infected closely. We always dispatch them quickly, and don't look at them anymore." The asian man said. His leather jacket covered his neck mostly but a dragon was still seen on his neck, and it moved as he talked, kinda. "We could learn things from examining them. For instance; I noticed that this one has various bite wounds, that alone, wouldn't be that bad, but together would be lethal. However, the body has somehow rapidly healed the wound after it 'turned', causing the bleeding to stop. Remarkable isn't it?" I looked down on him, not understanding his joy: "All we know now is that they are even more dangerous." I stated, to which he replied, still smiling:"Yes, but that knowledge allows us to be more efficient, see. And now let's cut him open, and learn more." I looked at Ronin a bit disturbed, but Ronin smiled as he held the knife up, and gave me a look that said: 'What are you waiting for? It's gonna be fun.'

I shook my head, I wasn't in the mood for a disection. As I turned away, Ronin started to make incisions into the body. I walked over to Heiner who seemed to be busy with a heavy door, a meat locker door, or a vault one. I wasn't sure, doors aren't exactly my area of expertise. When I asked him what the door was, he revealed to have as much knowledge as me, but he figured that there must be something valuable behind such thick doors. I could see in his eyes that he was still in the market for money and gold, seeing he had also emptied the cash-register, so it wasn't really only in his eyes. But the hope he has, judging by the fact that he thinks the money will be off use again later, it made me a bit hopefull myself. I decided to help Heiner, and after trying to force it a while, Heiner smashed on it with his shovel. That didn't work, but then I hit it with my axe, that did work. Heiner and I slowly opened the door, anxious for what's inside.

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