Population: Katie

by Connor, Penelope

  Population: Katie

  By Penelope Connor

  Copyright © 2020 by Penelope Connor

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  First edition

  ISBN 978-0-9950344-1-9

  ISBN 978-0-9950344-0-2 (ebook)

  This is a work od fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by Sarah Dickinson and Julie Phelps

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Chapter 1, The Book of Lies

  Chapter 2, Passive/Aggressor

  Chapter 3, Fuel

  Chapter 4, Just a Walk

  Chapter 5, Frivolous

  Chapter 6, Digging a Hole

  Chapter 7, The Road to Middleton

  Chapter 8, All Together Now

  Chapter 9, Will the Owner of the Green Station Wagon...

  Chapter 10, Fight vs. Flight

  Chapter 11, Learn to Take a Hit

  Chapter 12, In the Field

  Chapter 13, The Hospital Run

  Chapter 14, Six Pitchers Deep

  Chapter 15, Exodus

  Chapter 16, Just Another Walk

  Chapter 17, Clean and Caged

  Chapter 18, I Hate You

  Chapter 19, Battle On

  Chapter 20, Brand New Day

  Chapter 21, This is Good Luck

  Dedications

  To Sarah, my trusted beta, best friend, and pseudo-sister. Without your unwavering enthusiasm, criticism, and support, this story would never have survived the perilous journey from brain to paper. Here’s to our next project, and many more years of adventure.

  To Monique and Lisa, a bet’s a bet. Shut up and eat your pinecones.

  January, I think.

  My name is Katie, and I live in a MegaMart.

  MegaMart was an oversized warehouse style store that sold an unnecessary assortment of household products in equally unnecessary volumes. Customers would pay a yearly membership fee to enjoy the privilege of shopping here so that they could save twelve cents on a gallon of mustard. At least, they used to.

  These days, the building is vast and empty, save for myself, and the cat currently sleeping on my lap.

  Outside is another story.

  The Gov only ever referred to them as the ‘threat’, but that was before everyone knew what they were… before we had actually seen them. Without the benefit of a politically correct, scientifically derived, and government approved word, I called them ‘zombies.’ Dale didn’t like that. We eventually agreed to say ‘infected,’ or ‘infected person.’ However, without him here to remind me, I tend to revert back to ‘zombies.’

  They live out there, and I live in here, and that mostly works for me. I go about my business, waiting to see if anyone might show up in search of supplies, or shelter, or maybe even in search of me.

  I have no real expectations of rescue. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to return to civilization, it’s just that... I don’t believe that there is a civilization to return to.

  It all started a while back... I can’t even remember how many months have passed. Enough. I guess that would be an appropriate quantifier. Enough months ago (I think that the English language just died a little bit right there) things were normal. Most people hardly noticed or cared that we were at war, and had been at war for generations. I guess it’s hard for the average citizen to concern themself with a battle taking place thousands of miles away in a sandy country that they probably couldn’t point out on a map.

  Even now, I can’t tell you exactly which country we were fighting with. Propaganda materials always referred to our enemy as ‘The Other Side,’ which kinda gave the Gov a free pass to shift their focus without justification, or even an announcement.

  All I knew about the war was that it was getting worse. Much worse. More and more people flew abroad to defend us. Everyone who went to war was there because, for one reason or another, they wanted to go. But that didn’t really make it any easier for the people left behind.

  I guess the Other Side was getting sick of it too. Last year they brought the fight to us.

  The day that the Gov announced that the battle was now on our own soil was a pretty scary day. Up until that moment, the war had been this faraway thing that everyone felt safely distanced from.

  I think it really sank in for everyone that we were in trouble when the Gov declared martial law, and handed everything over to the military. Now the military is the Gov, and whoever used to be in charge... well, I guess they just don’t matter anymore.

  At first, the new, military run Gov told people to stay in their homes (as if that made any sense at all). But no one questioned, we all trusted that obedience would keep us safe.

  Then soldiers came to our towns and closed everything down. Here in Carnassey, the MegaMart where I worked was their home base. When supplies began arriving, the soldiers recruited the MegaMart’s employees to help distribute them. My manager, Ted, thought it was an honor to work through the apocalypse. I thought it was a colossal rip off.

  People were escorted in small groups to the store to pick up necessities, then returned to their homes to sit around and wait. We all did a lot of waiting.

  On Lockdown Day, everything changed. That was when the new soldiers arrived, bringing with them the announcement that things had ‘escalated.’ What does that even mean?

  They told us to stay put, that we were safe. Next, they started collecting people from town and shipping them out to the nearest city. It all happened so fast, they didn’t even let us leave the MegaMart. We were told to stay there, and that the Gov would send reinforcements to evacuate us and the rest of the town.

  Where they took the others, we never did find out. No one ever came for us.

  I didn’t know much about the terrible ‘threat’ that had us all locked away. There were rumors of a virus, or of super soldiers - there were a lot of rumors actually, but no one to confirm or deny any of them. Not until the day that the threat literally walked up to our doorstep. They’ve been here ever since, and so have I.

  I snap the journal shut and drop it to the floor next to my makeshift bed.

  They’re loud tonight. I can hear the ‘threat’ milling around as they wander aimlessly in the night. I wish that they slept, or at least stopped moving. I’m not sure which is worse... the sound of their bodies scraping up against the metal siding of the store as they walk, or the low, long moaning sounds that they make as it happens.

  I scratch behind the cat’s ears until the purring is loud enough that I can tune out everything that I don’t want to hear. I force my eyes to close and take slow, deep breaths, hoping that tonight, once again, sleep will be the only thing that finds me.

  • Chapter 1 – The Book of Lies

  Morning greets me with little square blocks of light that filter down from the skylights, high up on the MegaMart’s ceiling. I rarely pay attention to the time of day anymore, but the angle of the light beams suggest that it’s still early. I turn onto my side and let my hand grope around the floor for the stick I was using to prod at my fire the previous night. By the time I find the stick, I’m conscious enough to notice that the fire itself is now nothing but ash and a few blackened screws left over from the shelf that I pulled apart and burned the night before, to keep warm
.

  I drop the stick back on the floor and stretch out, ignoring the protesting creaks that the lounge chair makes under me. I thought that it might make a better bed than the pile of blankets and pillows that I usually curl up on, but my sore back politely suggests that I was wrong. Too bad, it was such a hassle dragging it up onto the Tops.

  The Tops is the name that I gave to all of the areas on top of the store’s shelving structures, as well as the public bathrooms, and the staff rooms. The shelving structures are at least twenty feet high, while the bathrooms are around ten. They make me feel safe, especially at night, which is why I spend a lot of time up there. I made the area above the bathrooms my bedroom of sorts, and even managed to get a generator up here.

  I glance over at the aforementioned generator and sigh. It ran out of fuel two days ago, and I don’t want to do what it takes to get more, hence the makeshift fire pit.

  During the camping season, the MegaMart usually carries thermal sleeping bags, but there aren’t any here right now. I actually count myself lucky that we carried blankets at all, or I might have found myself sleeping in a pile of sweaters like some sort of laundry gnome.

  It occurs to me that the other source of warmth from last night is already out and about, and I wonder how early he woke up today.

  “Here, Kitty,” I call in no particular direction. “Here, Kitty Kit Cat!” I wait for a response, but when none comes, I assume that he’s out hunting. The store used to sell cat food, but I’m reluctant to feed my feline friend because he seems to be doing alright by himself, and I don’t want him to get accustomed to me providing for him in case, some day, I can’t.

  I also don’t want to attract any other animals into the building. A single cat is company, but if a family of rats decides to move in, I might have to go live up on the roof or something.

  Besides, after all the work Dale and I put into sealing away anything that might attract vermin, spreading cat food around just seems ridiculous. I might as well open the big fridge. Ew. Even the thought of doing that makes my lip curl up in distaste.

  Once everyone else was gone, and Dale and I had made the decision to stay in the store, it became pretty clear that if we didn’t deal with all of the perishables in the store, we would eventually have a huge problem on our hands. The first thing we did was check out the big fridge that makes up an entire aisle of the store. Stock was low, but there was still more than two people could eat in a year, let alone before the listed expiry dates. So we cleared out all of the shelves to create as much space as possible. After that we took out all of the food that we could actually eat, or that wouldn’t expire for several months, and moved it into the much smaller fridge in the deli. We did the same with all of the produce, and finally everything in the deli itself. After that, we took everything that was left and shoved it in the big fridge.

  Once we were sure that there was nothing else to add, nothing else that could possibly curdle, wilt or sprout semi-intelligent mold, we sealed off the big fridge permanently and disconnected the power. Since the space is airtight, we hoped that it would never smell or attract any unwanted visitors. It’s been there like that for months now, so I guess we were right. As you can imagine, I have no intention of opening it again. Ever. Ew.

  I make my way to the bathrooms first and begin washing up, the ritual simple and familiar.

  I stare myself down in the mirror as I scrub my teeth with a cinnamon flavored paste. I’m short, by most people’s standards. I remember how excited I was when I finally hit five feet. A little too excited, maybe, because my body mistook my enthusiasm for permission to quit growing after that. I have warm brown hair that’s sort of short and very poorly cut right now with the longer layers almost reaching my shoulders, and the shorter ones sticking out around my ears. It’s an obvious hack job, but I have no one to take care of it for me anymore, and my first couple attempts to cut it myself really do leave something to be desired.

  I lean forward into the mirror to examine my skin, which is usually very clear and pink, but right now could use some exfoliating. My eyes are a very dark shade of blue, and I have dimples on both cheeks that show no matter how neutrally I try and hold my features. Most people used to call me cute, but I was never sure if they meant it as a compliment, or if they were being condescending. I’m the kind of tiny person that everyone likes to pick up, and give weird nicknames to, but for some reason that’s never bothered me as much as the cute thing.

  I lean back, spit, rinse, and drop my toothbrush onto the counter.

  I grab a change of clothes off the door of one of the stalls, change, then wash and rinse what I had been wearing with bottled water from the store. I hang the clothes to dry, and then look myself over in the mirror with a sigh. It’s really not a bad hair day, and no one will see it.

  Clean and clothed, I decide to address breakfast next. I head over to the dry stock shelves and start with cereal, which I rip open and eat straight from the box because the only milk around is in the big fridge, and I think we already covered why that’s not an option. I munch on handfuls of cereal while meandering around to the next aisle, pausing in front of my jar of pickles. I can see one or two of the pickles floating around in the nuclear colored liquid and groan aloud at the thought of opening a new jar.

  I had only been alone here for a couple of days when I was faced with the task of opening this jar. Like most of the food items in the store, the jar is obnoxiously large and heavy and it took a while to pry my way into it. I remember crying and I think I may have even yelled at the uncooperative thing, as though I could simply intimidate it into letting me in. I think that was probably the first time that I truly understood how alone I really am here and it wasn’t an easy reality to face. Especially while hungry.

  All in all, I am aware of how very much worse things could be. There’s no shortage of food or bottled water here, and although they’re all too big, there are plenty of fresh clothes to wear. The biggest thing that’s missing right now is company. I’ve been getting in the habit of reading, singing, or at least talking aloud in the evening, not because there’s any reason to, but because I figure it’ll help stave off madness… somehow. I’m sure I’ve read that someplace, or maybe I made it up. Either way, I’m not taking the chance.

  As I make my way back over to the Tops, I hear Kit Cat mewing from the loading dock. I’m fairly certain that he’s been getting in and out of the building from that part of the store, although I’ve never actually seen how he does it. Thankfully the ‘threat’ outside seem to have no interest in animals.

  I’m half way to the loading dock when I realize that I’ve heard this particular mew before. It’s the insistent one that the cat uses when he wants to show off something that he’s brought me.

  The first day that the cat arrived here, he brought with him a huge rat. I suppose the offering was like some sort of feline rental agreement. “I will give you this tasty rodent if you don’t chase me away with a broom.” I let the cat stay, and contemplated making tiny hamburgers, but ultimately opted to dispose of the rat. Since then, Kit Cat has brought me bugs, birds, and several mice. I don’t like to discourage the behavior, since at least I know for sure that he’s finding all the food he needs, but it’s definitely not a highlight in my day.

  One more impatient mew gives away the cat’s location. I turn the corner and see him sitting there, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. I glance down at the cat’s feet and see the mangled remains of a huge snake. I didn’t even know we had snakes around here.

  Covering my mouth with one hand, I quickly compose myself, then crouch down beside my companion.

  “What a good little hunter kitty,” I say, scratching at the fur under its chin. “Thank you for the present.”

  Once Kit Cat has had enough of my praise, he ambles off, presumably to take a nap. Once out of view, I grab a dustpan and broom from the corner of the room and gather up the snake. I decide on a respectable cremation, carrying the thing back to my campfire
bin and dumping it in.

  It’s late in the afternoon when I decide to head upstairs. Upstairs consists of just one big room, which was originally my manager, Ted’s, office, and more recently served as a bedroom of sorts for Dale and myself. We spent so much time up there, lounging, laughing, planning our future and sharing our past. The safest place in the world was in his arms, but these days, I try to pretend that the room isn’t there at all.

  I’ve been working up the courage to go up there for a couple of days now, hoping that rifling through Dale’s things might offer me some answers, or courage, or maybe even a direction. Yesterday I got half way up the stairs before making up some distraction to go deal with instead. Today, hugging my journal to my chest like a frightened freshman, I make it all of the way into the room.

  A pile of blankets and pillows takes up the center of the office - our bed. Dale’s few possessions are exactly as he left them, unaware of his absence.

  Dale was a soldier, and so had arrived in the store with only his gear and backpack. There’s nothing of mine up here anymore. I moved up onto the Tops on my first day alone.

  The MegaMart has no backroom storage. Everything’s out in the open, neatly tucked away up on the higher levels of the shelving structures, out of the average person’s reach. Sleeping way up high made me feel safe. Safer anyway.

  Next to the Tops, the office is the safest place in the building because it’s the only place where you can access the roof. I haven’t been up on the roof by myself at all yet; the last time I was up there was the day that-

  My thoughts trail off as my eyes dart around the room for a distraction. The first thing I spot is the Book of Lies. It’s sitting on the office desk, exactly where Dale left it. He had been trying to decipher the information inside of it, which was no small task. The book had been the journal of one Doctor Daniel Ashmore, a man who had arrived along with Dale and the soldiers on Lockdown Day.