Still Alive: A Lesbian Love Story in an Undead World

by Leigh Ann Scott

  Dead-end here…no pun intended, Jaimee silently quipped. It sure would be nice to get a shower though. If I can secure the area, maybe I could. I wonder if there’s any gear inside the lockers I can use?

  Most of the lockers lining the wall were open, but a few stayed stubbornly locked. Short of a crow bar, Jaimee did not see how she could gain access to the secured lockers. Listening for anything approaching….always listening, she began to rummage. Nothing of any real use was found except for a few discarded towels, some clothing close to her size, and a tube of lip balm. Finally, in one of the last lockers, near the ‘forbidden’ door, she found a small flashlight tucked in a satchel along with a few energy bars and a pill bottle labeled Acetaminophen. Hoping for luck, she clicked on the flashlight and was rewarded by a strong high beam of light. Smiling and grabbing the satchel, stuffed what she could inside and left the room.

  Swinging the beam of light down the corridor, Jaimee saw movement at the far end. Crap.

  She made the decision to enter the police station this morning in hopes of finding weapons for protection against the zombies and, unfortunately, some of the still living humans. Not all of survivors out there were welcoming of others – in fact, Jaimee had witness a few gangs of men raping and killing indiscriminately. She became very good at hiding when these groups appeared. As a solo woman, she knew she made for an easy target for such men. Foraging for anything helpful is a good way to survive – if a building looked safe enough to enter (with not too many undead crawling around) – it was worth breaking into and searching. So far, Jaimee felt lucky to have come across only one of the creatures, but knew opening up the wrong door could get her killed. The undead were not very fast or strong, but in numbers, they can very quickly overwhelm a person. Proceeding with caution and hefting her softball bat, she continued down the corridor.

  The upper body of an undead slid towards Jaimee as she came to a stop outside the door leading into the evidence processing room. She aimed the flashlight directly into the creature’s milky white eyes. Rotten lips slathered and the zombie blindly flailed out at the light, hissing and chomping with what was left of its mouth. Grimacing in disgust, Jaimee held the small flashlight between her teeth and placed both hands on the bat. It took a few swings, but soon the offending creature was an unmoving pile of viscera on the floor. She shook off the rotten flesh from the bat and then listened closely at the door before attempting to open it.

  A series of three rooms were behind the door, all used in the past for evidence holding and processing. The entry looked clear of anything threatening. Jaimee secured the door behind her and searched the entry. The main area contained nothing but a couple computer workstations and file cabinets. The other two looked promising with sign placards reading “Weapons & Narcotic Evidence” and “Property Evidence”. Jaimee tried both doors, finding them both locked.

  Not surprised – damn, Jaimee frowned.

  Frustrated, she ransacked the desks until finding a small keychain stashed in one of the drawers. There were ways to break into locked doors, but not without making a lot of noise, which would attract zombies like flies to the slaughter. Noise was bad. In fact, she did not know what she would do when an actual firearm fell into her hands.

  I’ve actually never fired one, unless you count the fake guns used in county fair carnival games or video games. I’ll figure it out though – I have to! What I wouldn’t give to be able to ‘Google’ how to use a gun or rifle…or hotwire a car, she thought as one of the keys turned the mechanism inside, unlocking the door.

  The first room was safe from undead. She decided to check the other room for any zombies before settling down and searching through what useful items were in both. A different key unlocked the second door, which also had nothing lurking behind it. In fact, this area seemed undisturbed by any recent activity. Pushing aside DNA kits and other useless items, she found half of the property room devoted to recovered stolen objects. There was also money.

  Feels weird to pass that up, but its worthless now. I can’t even remember how long I’ve been moving east. Maybe it will be useful down the line, Jaimee thought as she grabbed a stack of large bills and stuffed them into the bottom of the satchel. A still functioning Rolex watch caught her eye and she slipped it on. It was too large for her, but a comfort to know the exact time rather than judging by the sun’s position in the sky. A material comfort as a ‘Rolex’, but you never know when I’ll have to barter for something in the future.

  Many electronic devices sat waiting for their owners as well as jewelry and expensive shoes, all of which were useless for those trying to survive. Jaimee smirked at a pair of Jimmy Choo pumps and shook her head at the impracticality of wearing shoes like that while fleeing creatures determined to eat you. Patting them with a gloved hand, she moved on.

  Walking back to the weapons and narcotics evidence room, Jaimee opened the door to find exactly what she hoped when entering the police station in the first place. The room had a number of handguns, rifles and some ammunition. Bags of various illegal substances sealed tight and placed in boxes on shelves were almost useless for her purposes. However, a couple large bags of marijuana found their way into her now full satchel. A small backpack was in the room that Jaimee filled with three handguns; assorted ammunition that looked like it may fit the guns. A formidable looking, forty-inch rifle caught her eye. It was in a large evidence box along with two nearly full containers of ammunition. She counted 31 bullets in all – not much, but far more than she had before venturing into the building. Sitting down, Jaimee took the time to figure out how to load the weapon, fitting 10 bullets into the magazine, and slung the weapon over her shoulder. Readying herself to start out again, she hitched the backpack onto her back, and crossed the satchel over her head and shoulder. None of the guns were easily accessible the way she wore them, but for now, she intended to continue down the hallway with the bat in one hand and the flashlight in the other. If an emergency happened, she could backtrack, shrug out of the backpack and use the rifle. Jaimee knew a rifle shot would bring the undead shuffling to her as quick as they could move. Thankfully, that was not too fast. Even so, the guns had to be a last resort. She had not survived this long by being stupid and learned quickly from other’s mistakes.

  *****

  One Month Ago

  “That was a mistake. A stupid, drunken, horny mistake,” muttered Jaimee when she woke up the following morning to find an empty bed and apartment devoid of Rosemary.

  A note sat on the side table that read; Thanks for the pity fuck. I’ve done my good deed of the year. Jaimee balled up the paper and flung it in anger at the wall.

  Jaimee was livid as she threw on a bathrobe and did an inventory of her belongings. Not that she believed Rosemary would steal anything from the apartment, but Jaimee knew that sometimes her ex had a skewed state of reality. Many items became ‘hers’ on a whim and if she left with it, she would not see it as stealing. Nothing seemed to be missing. Still angry, Jaimee locked the front door, which Rosemary left unlocked when taking off, and went to the shower to wash the scent of her ex from her body.

  Later, clean and relaxed after a long shower, Jaimee dressed in comfortable sweats and a tee. Without thinking, she grabbed her pencil and sketchpad. Sketching seemed to be an auto reflex for her when stressed or upset – a way of working through the problem. The bay windows in her apartment let the morning light in and illuminated the front room and the soft, cloth love seat Jaimee flopped down on. Before she realized what she was doing, Jaimee found herself outlining Rosemary. Frowning, she scribbled out the beginning of the face and tore it up.

  Coffee, that’s what I need, she nodded and walked to the kitchen to start her second hand coffee maker.

  *****

  Present Day

  Her stomach rumbled loudly and Jaimee found herself wondering if it was loud enough to attract the undead. Somebody else in the past emptied the armory of the police station. The place was cleaned out, not even a spar
e bullet left behind. Irritated, she abruptly opened the door leading back out into the corridor, forgetting to listen beforehand. A zombie screeched and lunged at her with rotting hands as the door opened.

  “Shit!” Jaimee stumbled backward, nearly tripping on the doorframe. Encumbered by what she was carrying, she was barely able to raise the softball bat to swat away decaying, reaching hands. She needed to drop her backpack, but could not afford to have her hands tied up while the zombie was attacking. Aiming the wide end of the bat like a spear, Jaimee plunged it forward into the face of the creature, moving it back into the corridor for a brief few seconds. Long enough to drop her packs and ready for a strong swing as the thing shambled back into the armory. The wet crack of its skull stopped the screeching sound it was making after the first strike hit home. It took a few more swings to make sure it was dead…again.

  Heart pounding loudly in her ears, Jaimee quickly flashed her light down the corridor both ways, searching for any lurking undead. Nothing moved either way, yet Jaimee wondered where this one came from. Moving as quietly as possible, but panting from exertion, she walked to the next door along the corridor. The door stood slightly open and labeled “Canteen”. Jaimee thought she heard movement inside, but knew it was worth searching the room in hopes that she could find food. She was nauseous after braining the zombie, but also starving. Readying the bat, she pushed the door slowly open. Two uniformed dead shuffled toward the now open door. These two were clearly police officers that were on the receiving end of an infected bite sometime in the past. The closest one to the doorway was missing a large chunk out of his right shoulder; the second moved a great deal slower, dragging one of its legs as it walked. This time Jaimee was ready and smashed the first shuffler’s head with the second blow, and made quicker work of the one behind.

  “Disgusting,” She grumbled. “I will never get used to the gore.” Holding up one hand, “And I still get shaky afterward too.” Maybe someday she could dispatch the undead shufflers without fear or worry, but not this day.

  After removing the rotting carcasses from the canteen, she made sure the adjacent rooms were clear and closed the door.

  Light crept in from a small window placed high and close to the ceiling. There were two restrooms attached to the canteen, both still in working condition. Testing the faucet, Jaimee grinned when clear water ran out of it. She could not remember the last time she was able to shower or bathe. Later she thought returning to the locker area to shower may be a good idea because of running water in the building. For now, the faucet with whatever soap left in the dispenser, would suffice. Splashing water and scrubbing soap on her face, hands and arms revitalized Jaimee. Stepping back, she took stock of how she looked in the mirror. A little less than two weeks ago, the world began to turn upside down. About when Jaimee decided she needed to leave Los Angeles. Gazing into the mirror, she realized must have lost weight. Not much, but she noticed her face looked thinner and green eyes looked fatigued. Running fingers through her messy brown hair, she made a mental note to search for shampoo and conditioner when she came across a store safe enough to enter. Toothpaste too.

  It’s amazing how much we took things for granted, Jaimee thought while shaking her hands dry. Just to feel clean would be fantastic right now. But first, I have to get food. There were two vending machines in the canteen…and cabinets. Let’s see what I can find, Leaving the restroom, she began searching through the cabinets by the sink and counter in the canteen.

  Plastic forks, knives and spoons filled one of the drawers, along with paper napkins. Most of the other cabinets had nothing of use in them…except one.

  Oh my…YES. Coffee! Jaimee did a happy jig. There’s no electricity to brew it, but there has to be a way without a drip machine. If I can just figure out how to heat water… It’s a cheap brand, but I don’t care. I haven’t had any for ages!

  Stuffing the small half-pound bag of coffee and the plastic utensils into her bag, she turned her attention to the vending machines. One held sodas and bottles of water, the other various snacks behind glass.

  I have one way to bust into that, but it’s going to make noise, she worried. I don’t want to attract any undead. But, I need this stuff. I’ll just have to deal with whatever comes…unless I can wait them out.

  The rotting creatures would no doubt come if they were close enough to hear her breaking the glass of the vending machines. However, if she could keep the doors secure and wait a day; maybe they would lose interest and wander off. That was what Jaimee hoped. Her contingency plan was, well…to fight her way out one by one. As long as a horde was not trying to beat down the door, Jaimee felt confident she could escape.

  Taking one of the chairs in the room, Jaimee wedged the back of it against the door, and pushed it tightly, up and under the doorknob. It may not be foolproof, but the blockade gave an extra sense of security against a few zombies if they tried to push through the door. Grabbing the trusty softball bat in her hands once again, she repeatedly struck the glass until the first cracks appeared. Pausing, Jaimee stood quietly and listened. She could hear nothing beyond the door, so far. Not hesitating any longer, she beat on both machines until they cracked and she carefully pulled the remaining glass off the frame. She reached in to snatch what she needed.

  Smiling at the haul, Jaimee sat down with the large pile of snacks, a bottle of soda and proceeded to eat ravenously.

  *****

  One Month Ago

  Finally putting the sketchpad aside, Jaimee decided to clean up and go to her favorite coffee shop a few blocks away. The shop was hip mix of a small bookstore, coffee & tea, and muffins with a small stage in one corner for author readings or musicians. The scent of coffee, books and old wood paneling wafted over her as she entered and placed an order. Taking a small table in a corner, she enjoyed the first slow sip of a dark chocolate latte. The drink helped distract her from thinking about Rosemary and the insult from last night.

  That’s the last time I’m ruled by lust. I swear, shaking her head. And I’m definitely not having anything to do with her again, that’s for sure. Great sex or not, she’s a game playing bitch that messes with emotions. That’s one of the main reasons why we broke up in the first place. No sex is worth putting up with that crap.

  She mused about one-night stands, and came to the decisions that sex is something that will happen after at least two or three dates. Not before anymore – especially if she was truly after that elusive relationship – otherwise, she realized, was as much as a ‘player’ as Rosemary. The coffee continued to work its ‘lifting’ magic as she continued to drain the mug.

  “Is this seat taken?” Somebody asked and placed a pale hand on the chair opposite of Jaimee.

  Blinking, Jaimee looked up and recognized the curvy red head from the club last night. Today she was dressed casually, form fitting jeans and a low cut V-neck cotton blouse. The blouse revealed just enough of her cleavage to make her curious about the rest. “Uh…oh, uh no. It’s not taken.”

  Smiling she took the seat, “Do you remember me?”

  Jaimee wanted to say, Yes, how could I not? You were smoking hot and I made a huge mistake leaving with that other piece of work. Forgive me? Will you go out with me? I want to make passionate love to you. Instead she hesitated, “Uh…yeah. Sorry about last night. Cathy, right?”

  Nodding, Cathy replied, “Look, I really like dancing with you and didn’t have much fun after we stopped.” She placed a cup of hot tea on the table and considered Jaimee. “You never did tell me your name.”

  “Oh Jeez, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m Jaimee.” She smiled.

  After an awkward pause, “So, about last night…”

  Jaimee held up one hand, “Wait, I have to let you know more about what happened. Because, I really do like you and would like to get to know you better. I’m on a bad rebound, and don’t want to lead you on or anything.”

  Cathy unconsciously brushed a few strands of wispy red hair back from her face, “Was tha
t the other woman in the club you ended up leaving with? Sorry, yeah, I was watching. I didn’t realize how much I was interested until I saw you with her.”

  Nodding, Jaimee admitted, “Yes, she’s my ex and is very good at manipulating feelings…and I’m stupid for letting her do it me.”

  “Hey,” Cathy reached out, placed a hand over Jaimee’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We all make mistakes. Lord knows I have. How about we start over?”

  “I’d like that,” Jaimee tilted her head to the side. “I’d like that a lot.”

  *****

  Present Day

  Now she heard them, although, it was impossible to tell how many lurked on the other side of the barricaded door. Jaimee was unsure whether to let them into the canteen and dispatch the zombies with the bat, or ignore the sounds and hope they eventually shuffle away. Right now, she had no desire to leave the room since she had access to food and water. The snacks would not last forever and she knew that she eventually should keep going and find a better safe house. Testing the strength of the barricade once more, she curled up in the opposite corner, tucking the satchel under her head. Sleep did not come quickly, but the fatigue of the last couple of weeks dragged her eventually into a fitful rest.

  Chapter Two

  Nineteen Days Ago

  Twelve days and nights. That’s how long it’s been since I met Cathy and I’m dying. I think I’ve waited long enough, but I don’t want to rush her. Jaimee snuck a peek at Cathy as she watched the movie. Crossing her legs, she leaned against her date, feeling an ache and wetness surge in between her thighs. If something doesn’t happen soon, I’m going to explode.