Yeahhh, trust is a funny thing. It doesn't come easily and it's not given easily in some cases. Other cases it's given easily and blindly. In post-apocalyptic times... Well, we have enough television shows to show us why we shouldn't trust anyone ever.
"Do you trust me?"
I stared at the outstretched hand, my heart pounding. I did not know this dirty older man standing in front of me who had pulled me into a broken down abandoned building. He must have heard me running this way and opened the door for just a brief second.
The question was a simple one. Did I trust him? Trust is a funny word. Sometimes you can trust strangers more than you can trust your own family or friends. Sometimes not. Nowadays it was getting harder and harder to trust anyone.
"We need to get out of here," the older man said, pulling me up the stairs and on to the roof.
A hot, dusty and acrid wind blew around me as I stepped into the sunlight on the flat roof top, surrounded by sloping corrugated metal on three sides. The man lead me to the side of the roof that was a short jump to the neighboring house. I had to pick my way around shredded sheet plastic, clothes line and discarded water bottles and food packages. Savage snarls, groans and scraping footsteps could be heard from the narrow alley between the two ramshackle houses.
"We have to jump," he said, glancing over the edge. "Give me your pack and I'll throw it over with mine. I'll jump first and then grab you when you jump. We have to go before they break through the door downstairs."
I pulled my hand from his and swung my pack off my back, handing it to him. He tossed both of our packs onto the neighboring roof and a small, satisfied and triumphant smiled appeared on his lips. He went to the edge of the roof to determine the distance of the jump. Before he had the chance to back up and get a running start, I shoved him off the roof. I heard him hit the mass of bodies before the screaming and the string of curses started. I ran towards the edge of the roof and launched myself of the lip of the stone surface. I hit the other roof and rolled to my feet, peeking over the edge.
"You fucking bitch," the man screamed, bloody spittle spraying everywhere.
He feebly swung his handgun up to shoot a few of the undead but was overwhelmed and his high pitched scream told me he was being torn apart.
"That's the thing," I told the man as he was being eaten alive. "You shouldn't have trusted me."
I placed all of the man's supplies into my backpack and swung it onto my back before disappearing into the fading day.
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