Chapter 4: 1.4 Tom Rhee

“Oh fuck.”

“Language, boy.” Grandma gives me that look, that ‘you just did something wrong’ look.

I didn’t intend to verbalize my swearing but who can blame me? I stare at the illusory lights in front of me. Judging by the lack of reaction from my family, it must mean only I am able to see it.

<Walking Dead Title System: Honest, Crazy, Audience>

I don’t know about these titles, but receiving this system is not anything good. I stand up, run upstairs and start grabbing my things. I wear my familiar utility belt. I carry my ice pick. I carry my bag of supplies. Everything that could be of use, I grab in my panic! The Gameboy, some game cartridges... I also grab them. Of course, I shan’t forget my mp3 and earphones.

“Mom, we have to go!” I return downstairs, screaming at the top of my lungs, but… I am too late.

“Trevor, is that you? N-no… What are you doing? A~ah~AAAhHH!” My aunt’s screams this time is far more urgent compared to her scream just a while ago… This isn’t messing up with some pancakes.

With a crunchy bite at aunt’s neck, the walker that just arrives welcomes itself to our house through the open door. Our house is not so small, but it’s not that big either. The door is literally just several feet away from our dining area.

Grandpa confronts the walker with his trusty shotgun.

BANG!

I didn’t see where did grandpa get his shotgun but it seems to have come from under the table. I never realize grandpa was such a badass. Mom assists my aunt whose neck is gushing with blood. The bite wasn’t deep enough to cause aunt an instant death, but I know that her fate is sealed.

I approach the walker, the former Trevor, our neighbor. Trevor’s head is no more. It’s a mess of blood. I kneel down so that I can inspect its corpse.

“Tom, come here!” My grandma calls to me but I ignore her.

I continue on my investigation, feeling up the cold body of the dead, and then, I found it. Just under his waist, there was a bite mark. I dread the thought. It would’ve been better if Trevor here turned into a walker by means of natural death. The bite mark on his waist indicates the presence of other walkers.

“I know, I’ve been always the crazy kid of the family, but you have to hear me out. I definitely don’t have an overly active imagination… Trevor here has definitely something to do with zombies… You saw all of it, right?”

My grandma is still giving me that look. “Enough with the jokes, Tom. There are no zombies. They are fiction, boogeymen created to scare kids like you… Sigh… What are we to do with you, Tommy?”

I was expecting that reaction, which is making me incredibly helpless. What I wasn’t expecting though is for mom to take my side.

Mom protectively hugs my aunt and speaks to grandma with her same stubborn words. “Ma, you saw that right? Trevor was chewing my little sister. He was literally biting off my sister’s throat! If he were to come for murder, then he’d definitely not resort to such a bloody and illogical method.”

“Maybe he has just gone insane. You know Trevor, he lusts over your sister.”

“Stop it!” My grandpa raises his voice finally breaking off the increasingly tense atmosphere between the mother and daughter. “I just shot a man dead. It has been a week since martial law was put in place here. Michigan might not be a safe place anymore.”

Suddenly, I see movement from my aunt. I try pulling her away from my mom fearing for the worst. But…

“What are you doing, Tom?”

“Mom, get away from her!” I tell her, but mom’s strength obviously outclasses mine.

“Gwr~oaar~” Aunt making those weird noises is definitely bad news. Lunging at my mom, my dead aunt opens her jaws, trying her best to take a bite off from mom. Mom struggles against the aggressive walker.

Grandpa cannot get a clear shot as mom is on the way, the angle is too unfavorable for grandpa.

I man up. I jump to the nearest stool to take a foothold. From there, I make a jump. With the ice pick in my hand, I stab my hardest at my aunt’s skull. I miss, but my landing didn’t. With my body suddenly over her, and me taking a grab at her, aunt and I start rolling away from mom.

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The walker is suddenly above me, and about to take a bite out of me. I still have my ice pick in my hand. With my position, I cannot make a clean thrust, so I swing the ice pick, aiming it at the walker’s earlobes.

It was a clean insert, instantly killing off the walker.

Grandpa helps me to stand up. I see my bloodied aunt and the terrified gaze of my mother. Grandma also has a grim look on her face. I don’t know what to say, but… “I… I am sorry… I…”

Mom rushes towards me and envelops me in her hugging embrace. “Thank god, thank god you are fine! I… I…” She checks up on me if I had any injuries or wounds.

“All of you, pack your things.” Grandma commandingly says to us. She rushes off to the kitchen and starts packing things. Grandpa similarly goes his own way to his bedroom to do his thing.

“Mom, you should hurry to pack your things, we have to go!”

At my reminder, mom immediately goes on her way to pack her own stuff.

I return to my bedroom. I boot my computer, connect to the internet, and start sending a certain pdf file to my friends on Facebook, and even to some people who I had shared emails with.

The pdf file ‘How To Survive The Walking Dead’ is but one of the few fruits of my labor in the past two years since my first awakening. Though it was less than 30 pages, I hope this little help from me can be useful.

Though the knowledge was barely over season 4 of the TWD series, I believe this pdf file could make some difference in the chaotic world about to come.

I look over my window to see any change in activities. For now, there is nothing peculiar. I can rest at ease, but I can’t be too careful enough.

I go over to the radio keenly aware of how radio news updates much faster than TV news.

“There are currently riots all over— Oh my god! They are shooting people! They are shooting civilians!” That was fast... I hear the too-evident sound of gunshots from the radio. I rush to where my grandpa is, carrying the radio to him, and tells him about this particular news.

“Grandpa!”

My grandpa is already in his battle gear. He grabs the radio and has this serious look on his face. My eyes land on the several knives in the many pockets on grandpa’s vest. The vest was sleek and has a certain charm to it. Grandpa also has a handgun on his waist, not to mention the shotgun lying on the corner of his bed and the big rifle slinging over his chest.

I was super speechless. Does my grandpa have a secret identity?

Our family gathers in the dining room. Grandpa as the head of the family takes over. “This is what we are going to do. We will travel light, head to Detroit Arsenal, and seek help. Time is against us, so we have to hurry.”

“Grandpa, can we trust the government?” I ask him my sincerest doubts. I recall TWD’s episode 1 when Rick Grimes walk away from the hospital. I don’t know if I was overly imagining it, but I think there are signs of civilian slaughter.

The confusion that the apocalypse causes is so deadly, that even trained soldiers would find it difficult to discern just who is the enemy, and who is not….

Grandpa, the forever pro-american he is… explains his reasoning. “We should trust the military. That’s how your grandparents escaped the Korean War after all…” He says to me with a smile. “Also, it is most likely the military will be involved in whatever is happening. If evacuation orders are given, I have no doubt the Detroit Arsenal is our safest bet if we are to guarantee our survival.”

The light in grandpa’s eyes has profound strength that only years could describe. I feel awe for my dear grandpa. I look at my mom seemingly asking for an explanation.

“Your grandpa was a war veteran, he participated in the Korean War. He was able to get his immigration approved thanks to an American friend of his. Maybe he has someone in Detroit Arsenal we can rely on.” Mom offers me an explanation for all of this.

Then… I suddenly realize. Why are there only three bags here? “Grandma? Do you need help? Let’s go, we have to hurry! I’ll help you pack—”

Interrupting me halfway is grandma’s harsh coughs. *Cough~ *Cough~ “Sorry, Tommy… But I think, I won’t be able to join you on this journey…”