THE DEAD ZONE | COMPLETED

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The knife whizzed through the air and buried it's sharp point into the squirrels skull. It twitched for a mere second before dropping from the low hanging branch and onto the grass. The shot was perfect considering I had been standing a good foot away.

With care, I picked it up by it's skinny little tail. The tail however, wasn't the skinniest part of the little creature but it was all the food around for the time being and started making my way back to my base. My so called base was set up by a quiet creek.  Consisting of a small, simple fold up tent, with a small fire pit and thick rope hanging from a tree. The rope was used to hang anything I caught in order to skin and gut it more effectively.

As useful as the place was for now, I knew I'd be having to move soon. No place was safe to dwell in for too long. Especially in an area surrounded by trees. At least in clearings I could see what was coming. My eyes drifted to the darkening sky, tomorrow I'd move out but tonight I'd enjoy my skinny squirrel.

A chuckle escaped my lips as I strung up the little creature and I hummed a little tune while I pulled the knife from it's skull and used the same sharp point to cut a shallow slit from the base of its neck to above its bladder.

Its insides splattered across the grass and I worked at cutting the edible chunks off the bone. With fresh animals unless you had a lot of salt, and sunlight to thoroughly dry out the meat then you needed to cook it before the meat went bad – that could happen in mere minutes.

With night quickly approaching, I started the fire before placing the chunks onto a few forks then stuck the handle into the ground so the flames could lick at the meat. As they cooked, the smell over powered my nose and I contemplated eating them almost raw – I was near starving. However, I couldn't afford to get sick off whatever the squirrel could be carrying.

So, I busied myself with cleaning up my base and shoving anything I needed to take with me into my travel bag. It wasn't much – two bottles full of (previously boiled creek water), a metal flask also full of the boiled water, a sweater, an extra pair of panties and socks, a pair of shorts, two more thin sharp knives, a bottle of vodka, a lighter, a small towel, bar of soap and a few bandages. That left enough room for my small tent to be folded up and shoved in there as well as my piece of rope – which I paced as I wouldn't need it until the next location.

Other then what was in my bag, I dressed in a pair of loose, thick leggings, brown boots, a black tank top, then my loaded glock which I kept in a holster around my waist with the knife (that I used for the squirrel), watch strapped to my wrist and a razor blade I kept tucked into my sock.

Finally, the chunks were done as the sun disappeared in the sky in replace for the moon and I covered the fire with dirt before shoving the chunks into my mouth as quickly as I could while drool dripped down my chin.

Once the meat was eaten, and my stomach was less empty then previously; I climbed into the tent zipping it up tightly and closing my eyes. The only times I could have the fire going was dusk and dawn, any other times the brightness at night or the smoke during the day would lure them straight to me and I'd end up dead. If I slept as soon as the fire was out, I'd still be warm during my sleep.

Sleep these days were never easy.

Dark green eyes. Much like my own, except these ones came with a greying beard and warm smile. Dad always smiled at me no matter what. Now, he smiled at me as he handed over his only gun.

"There should never be a situation where you need to ever fire a gun but if you do, fire and run. Don't stick around to see where the bullet lands," he spoke softly as my little fingers gripped the gun tightly as if it could disappear at any second.