by K. M. Raya
It’s still dark out, and I know from experience that we need to find some shelter before we all pass out from exhaustion. With the fog obscuring a lot of the moonlight, the dead become more active than usual and harder to spot. As we coast through a broken down little town where most of the buildings are falling apart, we spot a few mom and pop shops that are well boarded up, but those places won't be any good to the group of us. We need a place we can easily fortify, preferably with a back entrance or two. I learned a long time ago how easily you can find yourself cornered.
It isn’t until our second go around in town that Wyatt takes a side street off the main highway. The trees have mostly grown over the walls of the buildings while their roots have broken up the concrete, so Wyatt has to swerve around the chunks of rusted out car bumpers and the decaying remains of the people who used to live in this town… well, the ones not up and walking around, that is. We spend fifteen minutes driving up onto the sidewalks and through the occasional parking lot, making our way through the labyrinth of ruins that used to be a pretty charming little town. I try not to think about it too much, though. I try not to dwell on the way things used to be, because it makes no difference now.
“Dude, just find a Walmart or something already,” Dante says from the seat next to me. He moved back here after the gas station, probably tired of having a fully grown sleeping woman sitting on his lap.
Wyatt groans from the driver's seat. “Do you see any damn Walmarts?” He’s snippy right now, and I don’t really blame him. Dante’s a bit of a backseat driver, and impatient too. Not to mention every one of us has to pee something fierce.
“What town are we in, anyway?” I ask. Everyone just shrugs. We’re somewhere in Utah, I know that much, so it’s pretty much nothing but a whole lot of red rock and salt. Not that we can sightsee anyway with the haze of noxious gas obscuring everything within a twenty foot radius.
“Does it matter?” grumbles Alex. “We could be in Vegas and it wouldn’t matter anymore. It’s all the same, just one dead town after the other, so stop asking.”
My hands curl into fists in my lap. I want to punch him so badly, but I hold myself back… barely. “It matters to me, you fuckwit. You might not have anyone waiting for you out there, but I do.” The second the words leave my lips, I want to snatch them back and rewind the last few seconds of this conversation. I may be a slight bitch when I’m irritated or threatened, but even I heard how that sounded. Cringing, I glance to the side. “I didn’t…”
“Screw off,” he growls, shoving me away with his arm. His mask is still on, but I can picture the way his mouth might be drawn in tight, jaw clenched as he fights the urge to tear into me. We’re smushed together in this back seat, so I jostle into the window, feeling like shit as I turn away from the pissy man and look out the window. Him and I really aren’t getting off to a good start. One of the many reasons our two groups will inevitably have to go our separate ways.
“Holy crap, is that what I think it is?” gasps Ret from the back. Glancing over my shoulder, I watch her lean forward over the seat, raising her goggles to the top of her head as she looks out the front window. Turning, I follow her line of sight. “There’s just no way our luck is that good…”
Holy crap, indeed. Peeking through the orange and pink tinted sunset fog, a large structure looms ahead. I recognize the yellow, circular symbol immediately. The fish just below the faded red lettering makes my heart beat a little bit faster. The camping, hunting and fishing capital of the United States. Locations in almost every state. Ret’s right. There’s no way our luck is this good.
“I say we keep moving…” says Wyatt. Several people scoff, including myself.
“Why the hell would we do that? We’re low on fuel and we need supplies.” I try to reason with the man as we pull up to the front entrance of the store and stop the car. Wyatt’s frowning out the window and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“I have a bad feeling, guys. You really think this place hasn’t been picked clean already? C’mon, none of us are that naive.”
He’s got a point. Places like this would have been the first to be looted at the end of the world. Hell, I’m not really sure why the girls and I never thought of it before. Back before the military, my dad, brothers and I used to hit up the massive department store monthly, if only to fuck around. That, and their little bakery made some seriously amazing fudge bars…
I can’t think about fudge right now. I know it might be risky, but we are running out of options, and fast. I make eye contact with Wyatt in the mirror. “The way the fog hit… I don’t think there were enough people left to loot the smaller towns. It was the fourth of July… pretty much everyone was outdoors. I’m telling you, Wyatt, we’ve hit entire malls that were still virtually untouched.”
I can see him thinking it over. It’s dangerous, yes. But what I said was true. When those bombs dropped on the fourth of July, they hit every major city, spreading noxious, monster-creating fog throughout every nook and cranny. Millions of people were outdoors celebrating in tight crowds, and anyone who wasn’t inside turned rabid. It took weeks for people to venture outdoors, and those who inhaled the fog were lost just like the rest. This place is a good ole country town in the middle of Utah. What are the chances its residents were huddled indoors on the biggest holiday in America?
My eyes bore into Wyatt’s as I will him to listen. “All I’m saying is it’s worth a shot. There could be fuel and food in there, not to mention weapons. The fuel’s bound to go stale sooner or later, so we need as much of it as we can get as soon as possible.”
It takes a minute, but Wyatt finally nods. I can tell it’s reluctant, though. Not a second later and Dante’s swinging the back door open with Missy on his heels, jumping over the back seat. Beretta and Anubis hop out the back, while I make my way outside with a somber, emo boy Alex behind me. As I go to strap my crossbow over my shoulder, I’m suddenly shoved into the side of the car. “Ouch!” I steady myself.
Alex moves past me, pulling his pistol from his waistband. He casts me a nasty look, icy eyes narrowing over his mask. “Stay out of the way, little girl. You’ve caused enough trouble already.”
Ignoring him, I make sure my weapons are secured, all the while side eyeing our new companions and all that firepower they brought with them. I haven’t asked about it yet, mostly because we've barely had a moment to rest, but I want to know where the hell they found all those guns.
“Dante, you and Ret take point. Alex and I will circle around the side entrance and see how many ways in and out there are. We meet in the center of the store on the first floor before we do anything else. We don’t know how long this place has been empty, or even if it is empty.” Wyatt checks his gun and locks the suv behind us. I’m already irritated.
“Anubis and I will go with your group, Wyatt,” I interject, causing Wyatt to stop and look up at me. “Dante should stay by Nina… Missy can take his place with the others.” Anubis’ head pops up at the sound of his name. Just as my boy starts to trot over, Alex opens his annoying mouth again.
“You and your posse will be staying put. We don't need the distraction, and your shit luck is problematic at best.” He’s not even looking at me as he says it. I instead look back to Wyatt, whose eyes are dark with irritation and uncertainty. He knows his friend is walking a fine line here, and I can tell he’s torn on whose side to take. Regardless of personal allegiances, Alex is being a douche, and we don’t have time to cater to egos. I think he knows that. At least, I hope he does. He seems like a guy with a good head on his shoulders, and I think we can all agree that Alex’s big mouth is going to get him into trouble soon.
I go to snap back with something snarky, but Missy beats me to it. “I think this macho man has us confused, Hell.” I look her way with a small smirk that she can’t see under my mask. Missy turns her eyes on a scowling Alex. “You think we survived this long on the good grace
s of big strong men?” She places a hand on her hip. “And without guns, no less… give me a break, He Man.”
Refusing to lose my cool and laugh at the stupid scowl on his face, I just nod to Missy as she takes her place near Alex. Anubis and I stand with Wyatt, who looks like he’s trying not to laugh. Dante rushes to Nina and helps support her ankle. She’s looking even worse than yesterday, and her skin has turned a horrible greyish color that makes me nervous.
“She’s not looking so good,” whispers Wyatt. Taking a few deep breaths, I lift my eyes to his worried ones quickly, before looking at my feet. Gently, I kick at the gravel underfoot. I nod absently, knowing probably better than he does, just how much pain my friend is in. She needs rest. She needs time to heal. But first, we need to clear this beautiful building.
Glancing to Missy, I wink. Her red curls bounce against her shoulders as she nods back. Even from ten feet away I detect a slight gleam in her bright eyes. I have a feeling mine are reflecting the same excitement. See, the girls and I have a problem. If you could call it a problem, I guess. The thing is… we’re really good at killing zombies. Yeah, the whole Costco thing didn’t exactly go down as smoothly as it could have, but in a normal situation, we’ve got some serious finesse. I think a big reason for that has to do with our time in the military.
It sounds bad when you say it like that, but when you’ve spent years hunting other humans in a warzone, killing mindless monsters is sometimes a better alternative. It beats watching the light leave the eyes of a living human being you were forced to snuff out for political reasons. The things we kill now are already dead.
“Lets rock n roll,” I tell the others, then whistle, signalling to Anubis that he can go ahead first. Missy whoops, before slow jogging around the side of the building, expecting the others to follow. Ret and Dante are clearly bewildered and holding back laughter.
“These chicks are nuts, man.” Dante shakes his head.
With the butt of my machete handle, I bang three times on the glass door in front of me. There are double sliding doors back to back that used to open automatically. Without electricity we'll have to pry them open, but I needed to sound test first. After a moment of surprising silence, Wyatt prepares himself to pry open the large door but I hold my hand up. He stops and stares at me quizzically.
A second passes before an unmistakable death rattle punctures the silence. It’s throaty and gurgly. I always compared it in my mind to a bathtub drain slurping down the water. But even that isn't really an accurate description of the chaotic noise coming from the corpse who’s now struggling against the glass. I’m surprised to see there’s only one. He looks like he used to be a young man, maybe in his early twenties. He’s wearing a nametag, but other than that I can pick out no identifiable features.
At the nod of my head, Wyatt pries open the door and the zombie falls to the ground. I step forward fluidly and sink my blade into the base of his gooey skill. The skin parts like an overripe banana and the stench that follows his broken skin still has the power to make my stomach turn. I forcefully swallow the feeling back and don’t even bother to wipe the bloody mess off just yet. Looking down at the rotten mess of a human being, I feel a second of pity for the kid. Better him than me, I guess. Sorry, whoever you were.
Wyatt takes point and Anubis and I follow on his heels. The stench of death and decay is on us in an instant. Though it always makes me gag at first, I’m pretty much used to it. Shit, if you walk into a building that doesn’t smell like the dead, you’d better watch your back, because it likely means there are other humans in the area who’ve cleared the place out already. The store is dark like a cavern. It's musty and cold. The only sunlight comes from the double doors we entered from. I remember being enchanted with the place as a kid. I always thought of it like a casino. With no windows, anyone could find themselves stuck in here for hours, shopping the day away without any sense of time. Right now, though, the lack of sunlight is dangerous.
I can already hear the shuffling of slow moving, dragging feet coming from somewhere deep within the store. Somewhere in the distance, our other team looses a high pitched whistle that echoes off the walls. Almost immediately, the frenzy begins.
“Move, move, move!” Wyatt shouts, pushing past me and hurling himself into the store. I curse him internally. These guys are gonna get themselves eaten. Me and my girls learned from the start that running in all gung ho like that inhibits your senses.
I can’t worry about him right now. We move forward as a tiny pack of three. From my right staggers a decayed body, flinging towards me, mouth agape. Its teeth had already decayed to the point of falling out and its jaw hangs loosely, making me question exactly how the thing manages to bite at all. It lunges for me with gripping, bony fingers. With a single swipe of my machete, its head flies off and rolls towards the checkstand.
The fun isn't over yet, though. More of them amble our way and the group opens fire. I can’t help but cringe at the sound of the bullets. It's not the guns that unnerve me. It’s the obnoxious amount of noise that comes with them. This is exactly why my girls and I prefer hand to hand combat. Every zombie in the city would have heard those shots. Don't get me wrong, I’m grateful for the firepower, given the fact that my face didn’t get chewed off, but we might pay for it later.
Wyatt’s voice breaks the silence. His blue eyes meet mine and his face is splattered with blood that drips down his mask. “Hell, you and Anubis take the left, we’ll take the right. We need to close in on the others before we go up another level. Whistle if you run into trouble.” I just nod, not finding any argument with that. Anubis and I take off to the left hand side, and I’m secretly happy about this arrangement because I know from memory that the right side of the store holds the freezer aisle for pet food which probably smells like hot ass after a year.
Anubis leads the way towards the right hand side. It’s getting darker the further in we go, but my eyes are starting to adjust to the shadows. This area is mostly gifts, clothing and expired candies. We head down every aisle, turning on every shadow that looks at us wrong. I’ll be the first to admit that these fucking manneqins need to chill out. A sudden weight lands on my right shoulder, sending me flying to the ground. My blade slides over the floor, just out of reach. It takes a second for my mind to catch up, but almost on reflex, I force myself to flip onto my back, shoving the weight off of me. That gurgling, slurping sound has turned to gnashing as the zombie desperately gropes my skin. Thankfully, its fingers are mostly worn down to nubs and it's teeth are mostly fallen out.
Rolling further to the side, I reach out, grasping the thing by its neck, feeling the give of its gooey flesh like putty. Stringy hair slaps me in the face. Our eyes clash, but there’s nothing there looking back at me. Nothing but a milky white abyss. An empty shell that used to be a person. I’m barely struggling at this point. After a year in this store, the zombie is basically wasted away and couldn’t possibly weigh more than a buck ten.
With my right hand, I grope to the side, feeling my way around the dirty floor. I can hear Anubis somewhere next to me, growling and ripping flesh. I know he’s the reason I’m still breathing right now. Cold metal caresses my fingertips and I smile. Gripping my machete tight, I bring it up behind the zombie’s skull and slam it to the hilt, effectively giving said corpse his final death.
“Helena!” comes Nina’s voice from somewhere far away.
“Here!” I shout back. “Stay where you are!”
Shoving the body off of me, I spot a few randoms ambling down the aisle. Without the element of surprise, they’re no match for me and go down in a blink. I’ve taken out at least fifteen before reaching the center of the store where the staircase and elevators are. Off to the side against the wall is possibly the largest fish tank I’ve ever seen. It might as well be a swimming pool, but the water has turned a nasty shade of brown. Even though the darkness I can see the milky, soggy hands groping the inside of the glass, pressing desperately for a way out of the w
atery prison.
Wyatt leans against a pillar, catching his breath, while Dante and Nina stumble to a stop at a few camping chairs. I look Nina over, making sure she’s alright before my eyes stray to Dante. “How’s she doing, Doc?”
Dante looks up, but it’s so hard to tell his expression behind his mask. His shoulders relax. “She’d be doing better if we could get her comfortable. She needs to sleep.” Nodding, I turn back around, searching for the others.
Chapter ☣ 9
Wyatt
They should have been here already, and the fact that they’re not makes me antsy. The dark room smells like rot, but I don’t hear any more moans of the undead nearby, so I’m assuming the place is mostly cleared. Still, our people are nowhere to be seen. Alex and Missy should have slipped through easily with all the noise we made just now.
Looking over at Hell, I try to fight my almost violent reaction at the blood coating her from head to toe. Her blonde hair practically drips, and her clothes are soaked through, plastering to her body in a gruesome mess of rotten remains. We knew it wasn’t going to be easy, and she’s probably done this a hundred times before, but I can’t help how it makes my gut turn. The thought of her being injured in any way makes me feel incredibly uneasy, and I have to shake myself out of a daze and tear my eyes from her forcefully. But in a quick sweep, I find myself scanning her for injuries. It’s impossible to tell the extent right off the bat. Zombie blood is mostly blackened by now, but when it coats everything, sometimes people can’t even tell they've been bitten until they start getting sick.
“Where are they?” Hell mutters to me without making eye contact. I watch her scan the upper floor. Her golden eyes are hidden in the shadows, and her delicate features hidden behind her mask. “Maybe we should go look…” She seems uncertain, but I know she’s worried for her friend, too.
