by Megan Berry
My eyes bulge as I look desperately around, trying to see if any zombies are approaching to rip the meat from my bones while I’m trapped under this unconscious person.
I hear the truck start up, and, a minute later, it’s parking really close to my head. I still can’t manage to take a breath until Ryan lifts the woman off of me. He has a t-shirt in his hands that he’s pulled from a bag of clothes that Camp Freedom sent along with us. He kneels down and ties the shirt tightly over a bleeding wound on the lady’s upper thigh.
“Help me get her feet, we’ll have to put her in the back,” Ryan urges me.
I’m so winded that I can barely speak, never mind lift this woman, but somehow I do. Ryan shakes his head when I go to slide her on the seat, and instead we lay her flat on the floor in the rear cab.
“We don’t want her to fall off the seat while I’m driving and get hurt worse,” Ryan mutters.
I nod, too tired to do anything else.
When we’ve finished up, I climb into the passenger seat. Only then does my racing pulse begin to slow down a little.
Ryan runs over to the car and digs around for anything good we can salvage. He grabs the woman’s purse and a gun from the glove box before popping the trunk and pulling a couple suitcases from inside. He throws them into the box of our truck before climbing in and shifting the truck into drive.
“She’s bleeding pretty heavily.” Ryan’s words startle me. I’d been off in my own little world, trying to steady my breathing and fight back the panic attack.
“Yeah.” I say dumbly, not really sure what he wants me to say. It’s not like we can take her to the hospital. A small piece of myself is horrified at how uncaring I have already become.
“We’ll need first aid supplies.”
My heart stutters, and I hope that he isn’t saying what I think he is. I turn to look at him, and he has that look on his face—stubborn determination.
“Ryan—” I begin to say, but he interrupts.
“There was a town on the map.” He reaches over me, pulls the map from the glove box, and quickly scans it while he drives.
“Ryan!” I shout to be heard over the crazy ideas that are floating around in his head. Finally, he looks at me.
“We can’t go into a town.” He looks disappointed and, despite knowing that I am right, I feel a twinge of guilt.
“She’ll die without our help,” he points out.
Tears well up in my eyes as I force myself to become the bad guy and say it, “She might die anyway.”
Ryan looks at me like I’ve just taken a knife out and stabbed the woman myself. “I know this is a hard, horrible new world, but Jane, we don’t have to be that way.”
We pass a sign: The Town of Hope Welcome’s you, One Mile, Population Seven Hundred and Seventy Three. Then, I realize that Ryan is taking us there anyway.
I want to scream and jump out of the truck and say good riddance to him and the dying woman, but I don’t. I sit in the seat and turn a glaring eye to Ryan.
“Do you want out?” he asks after a minute, as though he can read my dark thoughts.
Given the chance, I truly think about it, but in the end I shake my head, “No.”
“This is a small town. We will find a pharmacy and be in and out in less than ten minutes.”
I huff in annoyance, and Ryan turns to me with a mean look on his face.
“What?” he demands.
I think about saying nothing, but then I decide to throw it in his face. “It’s a small town, sure...,” I shout at him, “only full of seven hundred and seventy three zombies!”
The look on his face is hard to describe, but he looks like I just slapped him. “They can’t all be zombies. Some must have escaped, or still be alive.” Ryan looks sad. “Besides, not all the zombies will be out wandering the street, lots of people probably died in their homes and hopefully are still there.” I can tell that he’s given this a lot of thought, at least as much thought as a person can manage in ten minutes, but I’m mad too and don’t want to admit he could have a point.
We pull into town. Despite the cheery sign of welcome, it’s a ghost town.
I can see a few zombies shambling around and want to throw up. Since I fled my hometown of Blairsville, this is the first time I’ve put myself in danger by venturing into a populated area.
Some of the houses are boarded up, others have broken windows, and, in some, I can see zombies staring out at us. The glass is all gummed up from their decaying flesh rubbing against it. I can agree with Ryan on one point, the town is pretty small—only a few businesses dot Main Street.
We pass a small grocery store, a post office, and a library before we finally see the pharmacy. Ryan pulls in the parking spot out front and undoes his seat belt. I can see him scanning the area, and I do the same. Ryan grabs his gun and a large hunting knife and throws several extra rounds into his pockets before looking me right in the eye.
“I’m sorry,” he surprises me when he speaks, and I blink, unsure what to say. “I’m sorry that I left you with that woman on top of you, and I’m sorry that I took you here without your consent…” He pauses and looks deep in to my eyes. “Will you forgive me? I don’t want to do this if we’re mad at each other.”
A tear leaks down my cheek and I nod, “I’m sorry too. I know it’s the right thing to do, to try and save her.” My admission causes a big weight to lift off my chest.
Ryan smiles at me as he leans in to kiss me on the cheek. “That’s my girl,” he says, causing my heart to give a funny little skip. “Are you ready to go?” he asks.
I nod, only a little grudgingly this time.
Ryan takes a minute to check the woman in the back, giving me the thumbs up sign before he turns off the ignition and throws the door open. With only a few misgivings, I follow him.
My feet hit the pavement with a quiet thud, and I jog to keep pace with Ryan. My hands are shaking uncontrollably, but I take a few deep breaths to steady them. I don’t want to drop my fire poker and have it clatter to the ground, bringing every zombie in the area to investigate.
We only parked a couple feet from the pharmacy, so we reach it relatively quickly. Ryan hesitates when he sees that a hole has been knocked in the glass door—just wide enough for someone to get their arm inside and unlock it.
Ryan pushes hesitantly against the door. As it opens, a horrible chime rings out to announce our arrival. We rush inside and stand at the ready to ward off any attacks.
Three zombies come at us right away. With a sick feeling, I raise my weapon and swing at the smaller one’s temple. The thud reverberates down my arm as the poker bounces off the woman’s rotting head. I wince when I see that my attack has ripped her ear free and it’s stuck to the end of my poker. I don’t have time to scrape it off because she’s snarling and lunging at me again. This time the zombie is too close to swing, so I use my hands to give her a hard shove, pushing with all my might. I try not to think about the dried, crunchy goo that touches my skin when it comes in contact with her.
The zombie is off balance, flailing around. I harden my stomach and give her another good push. She falls over, scrabbling like a turtle on its back. I quickly line up the poker and drive it through her temple just as her fetid teeth clamp down on my shoe. I give a panicked shout and rip my foot out of her slackened jaw.
Ryan has taken down the other two in the time it took me to do one, and he runs over to me. “What happened?” he demands, panting and out of breath.
“She bit my shoe!” I yell, terrified that I’m going to be a zombie now.
Ryan takes a quick look around as he leads me to the front counter and gently pushes me back till I’m sitting down. I’m so panicked that I don’t resist when he goes to work, unlacing my shoe and pulling my sock from my foot. I can’t even breathe; my entire body is shaking so hard. The idea of being one of those things… I’ll eat a bullet first.
Ryan gingerly holds my foot and inspects it carefully. “Nothing broke the skin,”
he says at last.
I let out a sob of relief. I want to hug him and laugh and cry, all at the same time, but Ryan suddenly shoves my sock and shoe at me and pulls his knife out as another zombie lumbers out from between the aisles.
I quickly ram my foot back in my shoe as a second zombie joins its friend. Ryan is struggling to pull his knife from the first zombie’s head because it’s still thrashing around. I rush forward and take wild stabs at the second zombie’s head. It’s a lot taller than me, though, so I already know this isn’t going to go well. I can only hope that Ryan finishes up with the first one soon, and I can distract this one in the meantime.
I use the poker to push the zombie back a bit, wincing when I feel the sharp end stab into its chest. I step back and start weaving back and forth, running in to deliver a smashing blow before quickly distancing myself by several feet. The zombie is slow and seems confused by my quick movements, which is a good thing. Though, I’m starting to tire out a bit.
I hear a thud and hope that Ryan has finally dealt with his zombie. I see Ryan out of the corner of my eye, coming up behind the zombie as he viciously strikes it in the back of the skull with his large hunting knife. The zombie goes down with a thud, and I can finally stop weaving around and catch my breath.
“There’s a lot of them in here,” I complain.
“We better hurry then,” Ryan responds, passing me a wire basket and grabbing one for himself.
“We should stock up, not just for the accident victim, but for ourselves too.”
It’s good advice, so I nod. I see a display of backpacks and trade in my basket. Ryan does the same. We walk cautiously down the aisles of paper and pens. It gets darker as we move further into the store, though some light is still coming in from the large picture window at the front.
I strain my ears to hear anything prowling around back here, but I can only hear my ragged breathing and the exaggerated pounding of my heart.
The next aisle is a little more promising. I stuff a couple handfuls of chocolate bars into the bottom of my bag. Ryan gives me a look, so I stuff a few in his bag too for good measure and he gives me a goofy little grin. For a second, it’s almost easy to forget our situation—but only for a second. Next, we find the first aid supplies. I stock up with ibuprofen, cough medicine, bandages, disinfectant, and a few of those preassembled first aid kits. Ryan is busy stuffing a bunch of stuff into his pack, so I wander further ahead to discretely add a few feminine supplies while he isn’t looking.
“Got everything you need?” he whispers, startling me as he approaches from behind. I jump and hastily shove my treasures deeper into the bag.
“Yep, where to next?” I ask to draw the attention away from myself.
Ryan points to the pharmacy counter at the back of the store, and a shudder goes through my body. It’s extra dark; and I am not looking forward to traipsing around back there.
“It’s not ideal, but some of that stuff could save our lives one day.”
I nod, even though Ryan isn’t looking at me.
He’s scanning the area, panning from side to side with a flashlight that he’s pulled from somewhere. His beam lands on a deteriorating face that promptly growls and charges at us. It’s all I can do not to let out a scream as Ryan moves forward to head off the zombie.
I don’t look too closely, but I know he’s dealt with it by the wet slurping sound the knife makes when he embeds the blade in the things brain.
“Let’s hurry up,” Ryan says, grabbing my arm and helping me swing over the pharmacy counter.
My foot lands on something squishy. I let out a yelp of terror and quickly jump away from whatever I’ve landed in. Ryan shines his light over the counter at the floor, and it illuminates a zombie that someone else has already killed. He’s wearing a white lab coat, and I’m pretty sure that he used to be the pharmacist. Horror at what could have happened races through my mind, along with a healthy spike of adrenaline. I solemnly promise myself that I will never again leap without looking first.
“Grab everything that looks like it’s something we can use,” Ryan instructs me, already moving past the fact that I could have just been a zombie snack. I let out a huff of annoyance and grab the flashlight that he passes over.
“What are you going to do?” I can’t help but ask, nervous about the fact that he isn’t joining me.
“I’m going to keep a look out and grab a few more things. So far, I haven’t seen any zombies that have learned how to climb, so you should be safe enough behind that counter.” His words are meant to be reassuring, but my gut clenches as he walks away. I follow the bob of his flashlight around the darkened store for a minute, and that’s something at least, I guess.
I move towards the shelves of pills. I don’t recognize any of the medical names, so I just start stuffing handfuls of pills into the top of my bag. I grab creams and ointments and pills by the handful until my bag is bursting at the seams. Then, I stuff more into my pockets.
This stuff has to be helpful to someone.
I remember seeing a book down one of the aisles and, without thinking, I jump over the counter to search it out. I stop before a small rotating rack of books, and my finger traces over the covers until I find what I am looking for—The Pill Bible. Maybe it will help me identify some of the stuff I’ve grabbed. I pull two romance novels from the shelf as well and find a side pocket on the backpack to squeeze them into.
The sound of shattering glass has every nerve in my body snapping to attention. I look over towards the south side of the drugstore where Ryan’s light is bobbing around like crazy. I see that zombies are swarming out of a room that might have been a storage room or the basement. I’m not sure which, but one thing is certain, someone put a lot of zombies in a room and now they are out.
“Ryan!” I yell as I run towards him to help.
“Get out of here, Jane!” Ryan yells back, and I can tell from the panic in his voice that he is fighting for his life.
“Not without you!” I yell as I run full speed towards the melee. I swing the bag onto my back and lift my poker high, ready to do some damage.
I stop in my tracks when I see how many zombies we are dealing with. There has to have been twenty of them trapped in that room. I encounter the first one. It’s a female and, lucky for me, not much taller than I am. I swing hard, and my arm aches as I connect with the side of her temple. Her matted blond hair swings wildly as she stumbles. She rights herself quickly, though, and I swing again before she can get too coordinated. I hit her two more times before she goes down and stays down. My flashlight picks up the bloody remains of her crushed skull. I don’t even bat an eyelash at the carnage I’ve caused. Another one comes at me. This one is male and much taller, and so are the five zombies behind him.
“Go, Jane! I need to know that you’re safe to be able to concentrate. Get out of here!” Ryan yells, catching a glimpse of me through the wide sea of rotting shoulders.
I stand frozen for a minute, totally helpless to do anything to help Ryan. Then, feeling like the biggest asshole on earth, I turn around and run as the first popping sound erupts from where Ryan stands in the center of the shit storm. I know it’s bad if he’s risking the sound of gunfire. I hate myself for abandoning him, but the more realistic part of my brain knows that, if I stay, I will be torn apart. Through the haze of my horror, I hear more glass breaking as zombies start stumbling into the front of the pharmacy from outside, most likely drawn by the yelling and gun fire. I stop for a second to assess the situation. My exit is blocked, and zombies are closing in behind me.
I dart down a nearby vitamin aisle to escape the pack of dead on my tail and then cut across the next aisle before heading back towards the pharmacy. I reach the counter and don’t slow down as I throw myself over, like one of those TV cops sliding across the hood of a car.
The zombies take a minute longer to catch up. When they do, they bump up against the chest-high counter with angry moans.
“Jane?” I hear Ry
an’s voice. He sounds winded, but I rejoice that he’s still alive.
“I’m okay!” I yell back…figuring there’s no point in whispering now.
“Did you get out?” He yells back.
I open my mouth to answer, but then stop. Ryan is on the opposite end of the store. There is no way he can get to me, but I know that he will die trying if he knows I didn’t, in fact, escape.
“Yeah,” I yell out finally. “Now it’s your turn!” There are a couple ticks of silence where my heart literally stops, thinking he has been killed.
“Stay safe. I’ll find you when I get out of here.” He calls back.
I don’t have a chance to reply; ten zombies begin beating furiously against the counter, straining and groaning and even hissing at me in anger.
I back up, trying to get away from them, but it’s a small area, probably only eight feet deep by ten feet wide. I look around for something I can do, but I’m trapped. I hope that Ryan will make it out. He won’t be happy that I lied to him, but at least he’ll be alive.
I still have my fire poker, I realize suddenly. Without much of a plan, I move forward until I’m so close that I can smell their reeking, decayed breath. I use all my strength to stab the closest zombie in the head. It works like a charm and the zombie goes down like a sack of bricks. My heart soars with triumph for a second before the poker is ripped from my fingertips and disappears over the counter along with the zombie. I bite back my cry of disappointment. I don’t want Ryan finding out that I didn’t get out.
I look at the shelves and wonder if I can climb them when the zombies break through the counter to eat me. I can already hear splintering wood as more zombies join the fray, and their combined weight begins to break down my barricade. I look towards the top of the shelves and see something…
I pause for a minute to study it. It’s a razor thin line of sunlight shining through. I hadn’t noticed it before.
I begin to climb the nearest shelf, not liking how wobbly and unstable it feels, but I press on because there is nothing left for me down below. I can only pray that the fall will be enough to kill me before the zombies do. Though, from the height of only about six feet, it’s unlikely. I get closer to the sliver of light and discover that it’s actually a window with a blackout curtain hung over top.