Don't Be Scared

S2 E1 : 🔹 The Murphy 🔹 (Ch. 127)

Me and the sharp shooter's feet touched at the tips of our boots, but neither of us seemed to care too much once we noticed at different times. Of course, I noticed first, but I just brushed it off.

I watched in the corner of my eye when 10K had noticed. He stared at the connection for, like, two minutes before looking back ahead of us. Mack rode pass an old wooden sign that said something about Cheyenne before we entered the seemingly deserted town.

I've read about Cheyenne, Wyoming; they're known for the Sand Creek Massacre. Addison spoke to Warren about something on a broadcast she heard on her radio she made with her weapon. 

"I wonder who else heard the broadcast." 10K spoke up from his little corner. 

Addison went into further detail about the channel that spoke in number forms rather than language, or maybe they talked more about the channel Murphy was the subject in. 

Citizen Z had given anyone who listened to him the exact status of Murphy along with a description and where his general whereabouts were. That's not the worse part: Citizen Z added a prize for whoever got the package to California. 

Lucky us, am I right?

"Ten o'clock!" Mack tore our attention away from Addison and 10K.

I looked behind myself to see two trucks filled with hillbillies and a hell of a lot of ammunition sitting in the bed of their truck. They could easily wipe us out if they desired to do so. Murphy's got to be here, especially if there are already bounty hunters. 

"I see them. Just keep going!" Warren ordered Mack, who obeyed with no sound of dispute. 

Then, a red minivan behind 10K began to roll in from the other street. A woman with blond hair and blue eyes had her window rolled down as she cruised the streets, scanning for her target. Only God and her victims knew what she's got in the back of that minivan. 

Perfect, more casualties if we actually find Murphy first. 

"Folks are friendly here in Cheyenne." Doc commented when his eyes met the lady in the red van. 

I scoffed at the comment, "I don't know what you've been smoking, Doc, but friendly ain't the vibe I'm getting."

"Let's just find Murphy and get the hell out of dodge." Warren made us focus on who we came here for.

She's right, but it's easier said than done. Getting out of here with a six feet and two inches experiment may prove more difficult, especially with that dirty blue skin and loud mouth of his. 

"Cheyenne." Doc corrected Warren.

"Whatever." Warren answered back before giving us a task, "Okay, so we all need to think like Murphy. Get inside his zombi-fied head--and I know that's a scary place to be--, but where would you hide if you were Murphy?"

Everyone was quiet as they looked around their immediate area, examining for signs of disruptive peasants, buildings, events, or even Murphy in the flesh and blood. 

"Why would there be nude girls in a building called 'Stripper Z'?" I questioned the owner's logical thinking as I pointed to the building Mack was coming up on. 

As everyone looked to where I was pointing, Mack came to a complete stop. He shifted his four-wheeler into park. Why would women want to be openly nude in front of men and be labeled 'Freshest Girls in Town!'?

I tilted my head in confusion and concern for these ladies. 

"You did say to think like Murphy." 10K commented on my pick.

Why would Mur--. Right, sex. Because sex is what goes through Murphy's mind. So, do these ladies have sex with the clients, or with each other? Many graphic and intimate thoughts ran through my head like the zombie plague had done, making me want to gag in front of everyone.

Yet, I kept myself calm and composed on the outside. You're almost 17 and living in the apocalypse, (Y/N). Get it together or prepare to be teased.

"Hell, they might as well have put his picture on the sign." Doc chuckled at the convenience we gained from sleeping so many nights with the man.

So, Murphy is the type of guy to watch 'nude, nude girls'? How do the women make a living? The sign was a white background with the words 'nude' and 'freshest girls in town' in hot pink paint. 

The 'Z' that was over the naked form was also in the bright color. The outline of a woman's body against a pole was black and so was 'Stripper'. Mack shifted out of park and got closer to the building, parking it beside the alleyway so no hunters would steal it. 

We all bounced out of our seats and headed straight for the closed doors. 

"Don't call me naive, but why would there be a building filled with nude women?" I finally caved to my thoughts, curiosity getting the best of me. 

"Pleasure and money." Mack answered bluntly but I ignored him.

Horrible answer, if you ask me, but no one made a voice to answer me back. So, do these women gain money and pleasure, or do the men gain money and pleasure? Warren walked through the glass door first, letting more light shine through the open egress. 

Sitting in the dark with the sun as his only source of lighting and a shot of whiskey, Murphy slowly turned his head to look at us from the side. His hat was tipped, almost like he had planned our arrival at this time.

An actual stylish suit sat comfortably on his sitting body with the hat being black with a golden ribbon wrapped around the top part. His dirty fingertips circled around the tip of the half-filled glass. 

What the fuck is he doing with his life now? I entered right behind Warren with Doc behind me. 10K was beside Doc once he had came through the single door. 

"Hey guys." Murphy said casually, "What the hell took you so long?"

I lowered the bandana off of my face so he could see my whole displeased features as I crossed my arms over my chest. 

"Do you always have to be so dramatic?" I question his trait, stopping five feet away from his sitting form. 

Warren got beside me, glaring even harder at her mission. Did he really know we were always right behind him, or was it just him being cocky? We could've given up on him! Murphy took a sip from the dirty glass with a monotone face as if the strong beverage didn't bother his taste buds. 

"Murphy, you son of a bitch." Warren growled, glaring at him as Doc got on the other side of her. 

|| My dear, we are slow dancing in a burning room ||