LT

“Listen up, mates.”

Sergeant Louis William Tomlinson walked up to the group of young lads, most no older than seventeen, while some were as young as fourteen. Pebbles crunched underneath his scruffy combat boots, his hands locked behind his back. The group of youth before him stared at him wide-eyed, some with distaste while most had dilated pupils full of fright. He removed his aviator shades and hooked them onto the collar of his slightly perforated olive green shirt, the rims tapping against the belt of ammo strown sideways across his chest.

He sighed and squinted at the lot before him, the sunset’s rays slightly blinding his vision.

“So you want to learn how to use a damn gun, eh?” Louis questioned, his question obviously rhetorical. Nobody answered. Good.

“May I ask why?” he asked again, this time actually expecting an answer. Seconds of silence passed, eyes stayed unblinking. Louis did nothing, but instead stayed standing, hands once again locked behind his back, feet at shoulders’ width apart.

Then someone answered.

“T’ blow off some damn heads, that’s why.”

The voice was arrogant, ignorance dripping from his tone, yet it moved a wave of laughter through the crowd.

Bloody idiot.

Louis didn’t respond. Instead, he chuckled, yet his laughter was dry, almost menacing. The kids noticed this and froze, their giggles growing quiet. Louis’ lips were pressed into a thin line, and he started pacing gradually.

“Most of you,” he began, eyes trained on the desert grounds underneath his feet, “feel like heroes when holding a gun. You feel as if you’ll put a stop to the world, find a cure.” he paused, moistened his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue, and turned to look at the group again. “But you won’t.”

If it wasn’t quiet before Louis even started talking, it was definitely quiet now, even their breathing had seemed to stop. The only noise audible was the rummaging of their camp far off in the distance, a miniature version of a city, but really, only a lame excuse of a refuge.

“Way to be optimistic, Lou.” the same voice who cracked the poor joke took a chance again and Louis smiled stiffly, quickly finding his target.

“Johnny,” Louis called the tall, somewhat built boy over toward him with two fingers. The sixteen year old blond lad walked over with sly charisma, a smirk painted on his face.

“Yeah, dude?”

Louis chuckled again, same as before, eyes not meeting the boy. Instead, Louis picked up a nearby metal can, and brushed off a bit of dried dirt until he could see the Pepsi logo on it.

“Johnny, mate,” Louis began, looking up at the still arrogant child. “You’re pretty brave, right?”

“Fuck yeah, Tommo.”

“Really? Show me, then.” Louis said, a mischievous smirk on his lips. He slipped his semi-automatic pistol from the holster and showed it everybody, then proceeded on balancing the can on the top of his own head.

“Seems pretty simple right?” Louis asked the whole group with the can still on his head, gun pointing at the ground. “Can’s the target, pistol the weapon. Take aim and shoot.”

“Alrighttttt,” Johnny laughed, reaching over for the gun, but Louis moved it away from his reach.

“The fuck you doin’, man?” Louis challenged, making Johnny freeze in his tracks. The sergeant turned away from the dumbstruck boy and faced the group.

“Bravery is not shooting a gun.” Louis’ voice had taken a much more serious tone now, it was louder, much more official. “You are all ignorant, every single one of you standing before me, not just Private Johnny Wright over here.” He let his words sink in before continuing. “You all think this is a damn game, but it’s not. It’s not a Hollywood movie, or a show, and especially not a video game. You do not get a second life. You get bitten, you die, even if you come back with the virus, hence the name the ‘walking dead’.”

Their eyes were all wide, and Johnny was shifting nervously on his feet. Louis continued.

“And I can assure you that if you get bitten because of foolery, I will make sure to kill you myself.”

Murmurs erupted from the kids, but Louis silenced them with a stare. He walked over to Johnny and held the can before him. With wide eyes, Johnny stared at him, his brown eyes begging for mercy.

“I want you at ten meters distance from me.” Louis said, no questions asked, but the lad challenged.

“Louis, man--” he began.

“PRIVATE WRIGHT!” Louis shouted with the sudden true authority of a military sergeant. He was only inches away from the now-cowering blond boy, Louis’ stance rigid and official. He had had enough of his remarks. It was time to draw the line they weren’t supposed to cross in the first place. “YOU WILL REFER TO ME AS SERGEANT TOMLINSON, YOU WILL DO AS COMMANDED, AND YOU WILL LEARN TO HOLD YOUR TONGUE BEFORE ME! ARE WE UNDERSTOOD?”

Johnny stuttered.

“I SAID, ARE WE UNDERSTOOD?”

“Y-yes!”

“YES, SIR.”

“Y-yes, s-sir!”

“TEN METERS DISTANCE, TARGET ON YOUR HEAD, HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK!”

And Johnny did as told. With clumsy legs, he stumbled over ten meters, and shakily put the can on his head, hands being locked behind him. With months of practice, Louis easily loaded the gun, took seemingly reckless aim, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

The group gasped, some looked away, but the bullet still hit the can. Johnny dropped to the ground in absolute fear without recognition of the can already a great distance behind him, leaving him unscathed.

“Alright.” Louis shushed them, voice not as strict, and altogether ignoring the shivering boy at ten meters distance. He returned the gun to the holster. “None of you are here to learn how to shoot a gun. You’re here to learn how to protect yourself. You don’t leave these fences in search for a fight. You stay away from the dead. If they attack, you shoot, simple as that. I want you all here at five AM sharp. If you don’t show up...” He studied each and every one of their faces, all inscribed with a high level of anxiety. “Then you’re a pussy. Dismissed.”

Ever so slowly, they scattered, all of them returning to the camp as the sun set. Few helped Johnny up, while others whispered urgently to a friend or two.

“Lou,”

His attention was stolen by a small girl, no older than seven. She was clothed in a white dress that was similar to a rag, her mousy blonde hair pulled up into a loose ponytail.

“Lux,” Louis smiled, picking up the little girl. “What’re you doing here?”

“Mom and El sent us here to tell you the news!” Lux whispered, as if it was top secret information.

Louis laughed and started back to the camp, the child still in his arms. He vaguely wondered why Lou sent little Lux to meet him, but quickly discarded the thought with a smile.

“And what is news?”

Lux giggled as Louis tickled her tummy, her shrieks of joy echoing all around. Finally, she settled down, a grin on her chapped lips.

“Well c’mon, what’s the secret!” Louis pestered, but she only covered her mouth with stubby hands. “Ahhh, Lux! C’mon! Pleeease?”

She giggled again, but her hands were still on her mouth. Louis sighed in near defeat.

"What will it take for you to tell me?" Louis chuckled tiredly, setting her down on the ground and kneeling to meet her eyes. Still smiling, Lux raised five fingers.

“Five bottle caps?" Louis gasped dramatically. Lux giggled. "How about instead I give you three bottle caps and," he shuffled through his pockets, "a lolli?"

Lux's eyes widened at the sigh of the rare delicacy and instantly wrapped her feeble fingers around the murky candy. Without a second thought at the pocket lint stuck to it, she stuffed it in her mouth.

“Well?" Louis pestered, biting down a grin.

Lux glanced upward to meet his eyes again, dazed by the childish sugar and with wide, distracted eyes, she murmured:

"Liam is back."

Notes

Um, well, these are purely fictional characters, kinda, and well, I don't mean any offense to the people that the characters are based on.. Just thought I should say that. (: