by K. M. Raya
Hoisting myself down off the conveyor belt, I hand Missy the bag of seeds before picking up my pile of pilfered clothing. “This place used to be a twenty four hour store. I think they have an employee lounge somewhere with a nice bathroom I can get washed up in. I’ll come get you when I’m done and I’ll bring you something to change into.” She nods, as I head off.
After wandering around the bottom level of the store for nearly ten minutes, I find my way into a back hallway that says employees only. It’s surprisingly clean back here, and sort of creepy with it's white floors and white walls coated in a light layer of dust. After roaming a few states since the beginning of the apocalypse, it’s become pretty rare to find the last few untouched places. But I suppose this tiny town is isolated enough that there probably haven’t been a whole lot of looters around. Come to think of it, it’s been at least three months since we saw the last trapper scout out there.
On the walls are posters and lists, including old tax codes, health and safety regulations as well as employee of the month pictures. Everything that used to be so normal now seems like an alien planet. I pass what looks like the employee lounge room, promising myself I’ll raid it later, and maybe try out that comfy looking couch, too, but for now I need to get this drying blood off of me.
There’s a room at the end of the hall that’s not labeled, so I take a chance, hoping it’s some kind of bathroom. The fluorescent lights flicker on as soon as I enter. It takes me a minute to soak in what exactly I’m looking at. My heart wants me to say it, but my brain tells me I’m hallucinating. Rows and rows of lockers are spread out in front of me, along with at least fifteen bathroom stalls and a few shower stalls against the wall. My heart is thumping hard and I’m feeling grimier than ever right now.
After standing here looking like an idiot for way too long, I decide to take a chance, rationalizing as I go. Locker room equals showers, gas equals electricity, electricity equals heat, heat equals gloriously hot showers. Reaching into the nearest stall, I twist the knob, half closing my eyes. There’s a part of me that dreads the banging of empty pipes or the groan of dry metal. I can't stand the thought of scrubbing this shit off with another lukewarm water bottle.
I groan almost sexually as the pipes clink and glorious water begins to pour out. It's brownish at first, but I let it run for a few seconds until it’s clear. Steam starts to rise up from the stream, so I strip my clothes off in record time. There’s no curtain on the showers anymore, but I don’t care. I need this right now. A clearing of a throat from behind me causes me to slip. Catching myself on the wall, I look up and nearly shriek, before reigning it in. It’s just Ret.
“Planning on sharing your new discovery with the rest of the class?” Ret watches me with a hand on her hip. Her face, like mine, is streaked in blood and her clothes are wrecked.
“Obviously, but finders get first dibs.” Turning around, I dip my head under the stream and let it flow over me, washing away months of grime and unmentionables. My muscles instinctively relax under the heat, tension seeping from them in waves. I know her eyes are still on me, but I can’t worry about that right now, nor can we afford to waste the precious water. “Feel free to do the same, because as soon as I leave I’m telling the others what I found and those idiots are gonna stink up the place in no time.”
I hear the sound of rustling as I swipe my hair out of my eyes. Ret’s already stripping out of her clothes, peeling her pants down her legs, exposing soft olive skin with a few scattered tattoos. I hadn’t noticed before, but Beretta’s fucking ripped. “Don’t mind if I do,” she says with a grin. After the last of her clothing is gone, she steps into the stall.
Backing up to the wall, I wrinkle my brow. “Okay, there are five other stalls, you don’t have to share mine.”
She sticks her head under the spray of the warm water, letting it soak her now loose brown hair that falls just past her shoulders. Like this, she almost looks like a girl. Okay, that’s a lie. She always looks like a girl, it's just… more. After wiping her face clean, she looks at me with a sneaky smile stretching her lips. “I’m trying to be green.”
That makes me snort. “Honey, I think the environment can handle it.”
She makes a noise that indicates she heard me, but does not respond. Instead, she reaches for a bottle of shampoo on the shelf to the right side that I hadn’t realized was there. It’s an extremely stock type bottle that looks like something you’d pick up in a hotel or something, but it might as well be gold nowadays.
“So what, are we gonna wash each other's hair?” My smirk tells her I’m joking, but the strange fire in her brown eyes says something else. Ret steps closer, handing me the bottle of shampoo, purposely letting our fingers graze.
“I’m game if you are…” Her eyes sparkle, and her skin glows with rivulets of water cascading over her breasts. Though I try my hardest not to, my eyes stray lower, drinking in all that smooth skin, eyes grazing her curves in the spot where her waist dips in on the sides.
I don’t understand this heat swirling inside of me. I’ve never been attracted to women before, but there’s something about Ret that makes me feel all giddy inside. My heart flutters as she takes a small step closer. Despite knowing I should, I don’t make a move to step away. Ret hold out her hand for the bottle she handed me, and I pass it back wordlessly. She empties a few large drops into her palm, before rubbing her hands together until suds start to drip over her dark skin.
My breath hitches when she reaches out and runs her fingers through my long hair. There’s no part of me that even thinks about stopping at this moment because her fingers feel so damn good. It’s been such a long time since I’ve let another person touch me, and her hands are softer than I’d expected. She massages the shampoo into my hair, her nails grazing my scalp, causing me to shut my eyes and humm silently. It’s all I can do to keep from moaning. I don’t know this woman, but for some reason she puts me at ease. Since our eyes connected in the car earlier, I’ve felt some strange connection to her that I can’t explain.
There’s something so therapeutic about letting another person wash your hair. The fact that we’re naked in this shower just heightens things. I can’t help the way my mind wanders. Thinking about her soft lips, and her lush, thick hair…
“Stop,” I whisper, suddenly pushing her away slightly. “I can’t…"
“What’s wrong?” she asks with a frown. Her hands pause, and she lowers them from my hair as we stare at each other through the steam. “Did I do something?”
I feel awkward, and I’m not sure how to handle this situation. I’ve never been with a woman before, and I’m nervous around Ret. “I’ve never… we shouldn’t be doing this.” I’m stammering now. I never stammer.
A smile creases her thick lips. “I’m just trying to make you feel good,” she says. “If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll stop, but I have a feeling you were enjoying it as much as I was.”
She’s not wrong. “I was… but, I’m not…” I stammer yet again. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why is she looking at me like that? “I’m not a lesbian.” Holy fuck this is coming out all wrong. I sound like a teenager. My cheeks are on fucking fire.
She laughs. The soft sound makes my belly flip. “That’s obvious.” She rolls her brown eyes. “Don’t worry about it, baby girl, I’m not proposing here.” Reaching out, Ret gently caresses my shoulder, and I welcome the warm touch. “You’re beautiful, Helana. I’m not going to lie about it. I want you, but if you’re not feeling this…”
“It’s not that,” I cut her off. I don’t want to offend her, but it’s hard to put into words. “I just, I’m not sure.”
Her eyes sparkle. “It’s cool, alright? No rush. Just wanted to throw it out there, you know? Even the playing field a little.”
“What are you talking about?”
She casts me a dubious look. “Give me a break, Hell, you can’t honestly expect me to belive you have no idea those shitheads are fucking drooling over you.”
/>
My belly tingles. I mean, I’m not one of those women who are oblivious to man’s intentions, but still, I think her and Missy are blowing it out of proportion. “I don’t think it really counts when I’m probably the last straight woman in the entire state at the moment.”
Beretta snorts, shaking her head as she dips her face in the water. “All the same, I’m telling you right now, I’m interested, if you ever have a change of heart…”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I whisper, eyes still tracing the water that slides down her skin. Shaking my head, I force my gaze away and step out of the stall, grabbing the towel I brought with me and wrapping it around my body.
I leave Ret in the shower and get changed around the corner, drying out my hair with the hand dryer attached to the bathroom wall. Using my fingers, I shake the tangles out, and comb it into some semblance of order, and I’ll admit, it feels like fucking heaven to have clean hair. I dress in a pair of fitted black cargo pants, a black long sleeve shirt with a dark, charcoal colored t-shirt over the top that covers all my ink. After slipping on some new fingerless gloves and my new knee high duck boots, I abandon the locker room and all thoughts of Ret’s expert fingers for the time being.
☣
As I make my way back through the store, freshly showered and smelling like a human being again, I stop by Missy and Nina to tell them about the showers before I let the men know. Then, I head towards the second level, where I can hear deep voices from up above.
This part of the store is mostly the camping supplies, bows, guns and the firing range. I make a mental note to stock up on some new arrows for my crossbow since most of them are pretty battered. I still can’t believe how virtually untouched this place is. In a way, it’s sort of disheartening. If a superstore of survival gear can remain empty for over a year, what does that say about the current population of the US? I shiver just thinking about the real scope of the devastation. Without TV, radio or any sort of news broadcast, it’s impossible to get a good idea of the reality of things. From what we’ve seen on the road, it looks pretty bleak, but I figured it had something to do with the fact that we were passing through mostly small southern towns.
I spot Dante, Wyatt and Alex near the back of the store, standing around some glass cases filled with various small firearms and hunting knives on display. Dante’s inspecting a few of the knives while Wyatt and Alex seem to be searching through a paperclipped packet of some sort.
“Doing some light reading?” Stopping on the other side of the counter, I lean over slightly, trying to read what they're looking at.
They both look up at the same time, as if they hadn’t heard me approach. Alex cuts his eyes away immediately and forces his focus back on the paper, but Wyatt just stares with wide eyes for a minute, clearly taking in my freshly showered state. I don’t break his stare, I just wait. His blue gaze flickers briefly over my freshly washed and brushed out blonde hair and new clothing. I remember what I looked like before that glorious shower, so he’s probably only now figuring out that I’m not some sort of bridge troll. Surprise! There’s an actual woman under all that ick.
Clearing his throat, he shakes his head, tucking a few dirty blonde stands behind his right ear before looking back down at the paper. His hair is out of his rubber band, hanging wildly around his broad shoulders. I must say, he looks very much at home in this particular store. The personification of the outdoors. “We’re looking for a PO number. It looks like there was a large shipment of firearms and ammunition right before the fourth of July incident and nobody ever unpacked it.” I almost snort at his use of the word ‘incident.’
“There are too many boxes in the warehouse to go through each one, so I figured I'd find out which ones the guns came in and we’ll search for that specifically. We can gather food before we take off again.”
It’s a great plan, I must admit, even if I haven’t told him yet that we won’t be leaving here together. “Good idea. I’m headed to the archery section, I need some new arrows, mine are pretty busted.” I head towards the end of the counter when he calls out. Turning back around, I find all three men watching me quizzically.
“Have you and your girls ever considered using firearms? You’d be a lot safer if you did. I know guns aren’t for everyone, but we could teach you...”
Holding my tongue is hard. Wyatt means well, but he has no idea just how comfortable the three of us are with guns. He has no idea I was a sniper in the Marines, and could probably outshoot him at every turn. I haven’t revealed that little tidbit of my past just yet. I’ve been waiting until we have a better feel for these guys and their true intentions. Experience has taught me that once people find out you’re military, things can go sideways real fast.
Shrugging, I smile softly, like I’m thankful for the concern. “Thanks, Wyatt, I appreciate the offer, but our way has worked out fine so far. I just can’t put my trust in a weapon that runs out of ammo or jams up when I need it most. Besides, firing a gun just brings more zoms around. I’d rather use stealth than firepower.”
Understanding dawns on his face and he nods. “I gotcha, just thought I’d ask. Offer stands if you change your mind, though.” I nod with a smile, before taking off to the archery section for a little upgrade.
Chapter ☣ 11
Dante
The three of us watch Helana walk away. And we keep watching until she disappears down an aisle. She looks freshly washed, with all that lucious pale hair hanging down her back freely, she looks soft and pretty. It’s such a fucking contradiction to the first time we saw her, looking hard and mean. Still sexy, but different.
I know the others are thinking the same, because Alex has to shove Wyatt just to snap him out of his trance. I know Wyatt has a thing for Hell. It’s written all over his face. To be honest, so do I. She’s like a breath of fresh air in this hellscape. It makes me nervous, having her around. I know Alex doesn’t like her, and that means he’s gonna make life miserable until we part ways.
He’s not all bad like he makes himself out to be. He’s just bitter. I used to be the same until I forced myself to move on. Jessa’s nothing but a horrible mistake and a waste of a decade of our lives. But that memory doesn't deserve any of our lingering hatred or energy. She doesn’t even deserve the time wasted thinking about her and her betrayal. But Alex still can’t let it go. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but every time I try he just storms off or tells me to go fuck myself. It kills me to see him like this, especially when he used to be the fun, happy one of us three. I know, hard to believe, but it’s true.
“I think she has a point,” I tell the guys once she’s out of earshot. They both turn to me with raised brows. Shrugging, I bend down and pretend to sift through the case of hunting knives. “You saw the damage those arrows could do, maybe it’s not a bad idea to be a little quieter.”
Alex snorts. “Dude, do you even know how to use a bow?”
“No, but how hard could it be?”
Wyatt laughs. “Pretty hard if you don’t know what you’re doing. It’s not something you can learn in a day.”
I shrug. “I’m sure I can figure it out.” He might have a point, though. Wyatt used to work in fish and game, so he already knows his way around a bow. I worked in the medical field. It’s a lucky thing I grew up around soldiers and gun enthusiasts, or else I’d probably be screwed right now.
Alex slams the papers he’s holding on the glass countertop. “You just wanna get in her pants, bro, admit it.”
Okay, now he’s pissing me off. Standing up, I turn to my friend, not willing to put up with his bullshit for much longer. “Is there something you wanna say to me, Alex? Do you have a problem with my interest in Helana? Say it now, because yeah, I like her, sue me.”
He steps around Wyatt, eyes flashing. “Yeah, I do have a fucking problem with it. We’re not here to fuck, Dante. We’re here to try and survive. She’s nothing but trouble and you know it.”
“That’s
rich, coming from you. You just can’t stand to see anyone actually happy for once.”
Wyatt steps between us. “I think it’s a little early to be having this conversation.” He looks at me first. “You don’t even know if she’s into you, for one.” He looks at Alex. “And you have no right to tell him what to do. I like Helena too. She’s a cool chick and she can fight. There’s nothing wrong with being interested in someone, Alex. Maybe you could learn something from her about patience, because the fact that she’s putting up with your bullshit already amazes me.”
Alex is fuming. His hands are clenched at his sides, and a vein thumps in his forehead. “Everything’s wrong with it, you idiots. Stop thinking with your dick for two seconds. She’s not even staying with us, so your feelings are useless anyway.” Both of us blink at him, not understanding. What the hell is he talking about? “She told me herself, she’s leaving as soon as Nina feels better. Apparently they got better places to be.”
Rage and uncertainty fill me at the very prospect of her taking off. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I spit, not wanting it to be true. She never said anything about leaving already, and the thought makes my stomach turn. “Like she’d tell you anything anyway with the way you treated her…”
Alex shrugs, a dumb grin on his face as he lifts the paper back up from the counter. Wyatt’s quiet, though, as he soaks in what Alex said. His shoulders drop ever so slightly and he runs a hand over his beard. “Are you serious, Lex? Did she seriously tell you that?”
