Looking for More.

The next week passed without incident. After the first day of just lying around waiting for Keith, John decided we needed to be in better shape incase we had to abandon the car. I wasn’t out of shape but I certainly was not in it either. We spent each day running laps around the house and taking turns using John’s set of free weights. I could only lift with my left arm and couldn’t run faster than a jog. The first time I ran I almost passed out and had to lie down for a few hours. After the third day my arm finally started to heal, though I could still only barely use it. Between exercises we practiced shooting in the backyard. John had been hunting since he was 10 so he was already a pretty good shot. I on the other hand hadn’t held a gun until I caught the shotgun a few days before. It took a while for me to finally get the feel for shooting since I had to shoot left handed but after a few days I had improved significantly. By the 5th day of exercising and shooting from sunrise to sunset we were both completely exhausted. Since we didn’t have anything else to do but sit and wait we both pushed our selves harder than we should have.
On the last day at John’s house we still couldn’t run a marathon but we were better off than we were before. That afternoon John and I were sitting on the porch talking about how much longer we should wait when we saw a truck coming down the road. “Do you think that’s Keith,” I asked John. “No, he said he’d be coming in a red Jeep. Go get the rifles.” “Way ahead of you,” I said as I hurried inside. I came back outside and handed John one of the guns. The truck had stopped at the end of the driveway. Two men and a woman stepped out of the vehicle. John and I aimed our rifles at them. Using the rifles scope I could see the woman and the shorter of the two men looked to be in their mid-twenties. The taller man seemed to be in his fifties. “What do you want?!” John yelled to them. Seeing our guns the three immediately put their hands in the air. “Are you John?” The taller man called to John. “Yeah, who’s asking?” “We’re friends of Keith’s. We were coming with him to meet you.” “If that’s true where’s Keith?” “He… He’s dead.” “Dead? How’d that happen?” “Well, if you put the guns down we’ll come tell you.” I saw John lower his weapon and I followed suite. “Alright come on in, but bring the truck around the back of the house.”
“Alright, so who are you and what happened to Keith?” “I’m Alex,” the older man answered, “this is my son Grant, and this is…” “Elizabeth,” the girl finished for him. “Elizabeth that’s right. We just picked her and her dog up this morning.” “Dog?” I asked having not seen or heard one. “He’s in the back of the truck,” Elizabeth explained. “I was attacked last night and he has a bad cut on his back, but I think he’ll be ok.” “Ok so what happened to Keith?” John asked impatiently. “Grant and I were Keith’s neighbor’s before all of this started.