animal that was shoved up someone’s ass and then shit out. I took one last look; it appeared he had ripped it open and was eating whatever was inside. Ok, that was just gross, even for me.
I quickly got out of the house. A few stragglers meandered down the street. I pulled back an arrow and shot two S2’s. I retrieved my arrows, wiped off the goo, and trudged forward. After another mile of walking, I knew I needed to stop for the night. The last rays of light from the sun were almost gone and my ankle was killing me. I needed to rest it in case I needed to make a fast getaway, which was only inevitable.
I looked up and down the street I was on. Most of the store fronts had been broken, giving the impression that this town had been looted. Hunger drove me to limp inside a mini mart. Everything edible on the shelves was gone. Not giving up just yet, I took out my flashlight and made my way into the break room.
I held my breath when I opened the fridge. An unopened bottle of water sat on the bottom shelf. Someone’s yogurt parfait had molded over and dripped out onto it. Grimacing only slightly, I took it out and wrapped the bottle in a napkin. I found a can of chicken noodle soup along with a box of expired crackers in a cabinet covered with mouse droppings. Both the soup and the water were frozen.
Feeling the mini mart didn’t offer enough protection, I crossed the parking lot and stopped in front of a pet store. The glass windows and doors where still intact. I put my hands on the cold glass doors and pushed, forcing the automatic doors open. Leaving them ajar, I stepped inside.
The place seemed orderly, although I didn’t think it was surprising that no one had looted the pet store. As much as Americans loved their pets, I bet many were left behind and forgotten when the virus struck. Without making a sound, I moved to the back of the store.
A big S3 in a blue jacket slithered around the floor. He was so far gone he wasn’t worth an arrow. I picked up a can of dog food and chucked it at his head, which popped open like a rotten pumpkin. I stepped over the body, turned on my flashlight and took a look in the storage room. Besides the norm, it was empty.
This was as good of place as any to bunker down in for the night. I went back to the front of the store to close the doors. There was an office behind the registers and it had a steel door that seemed sturdy enough. I didn’t like the idea of locking myself in a room. As long as they quietly shuffled in, I could open the door to a zombie surprise party.
I grabbed a dog bed, a big metal bowl and a bag of small animal bedding. I heaved it all up onto a shelf then climbed up myself. I shoved bags of dog food onto the floor; they split open and kibble rolled out on impact. I sat on the bed and dumped the shavings into the bowl. I pulled a box of matches from my pocket and struck on, dropping it into the bowl.
It took a few attempts to get the fire going. I took the can of soup and placed it in the middle. Careful not to melt the plastic, I held the water over the flames. My appetizing dinner had only halfway thawed when the fire went out. Not wanting to waste anymore matches, I decided it was good enough.
“Goddammit,” I swore when I looked at the can of soup. I had no way of opening it. I was just about to throw it angrily on the ground when I had an idea. I wedged the can between two bags of food and pulled out my M9. Regretfully wasting a bullet, I pulled the trigger.
I shook the can before putting it to my lips. The warm broth spilled from the bullet hole and into my mouth. Careful not to swallow any metal fragments that might have fallen into the soup, I ate as much as I could, knowing that this could very well be all I get for a while. My ankle throbbed but I didn’t want to take my boot off in fear I wouldn’t be able to get it back on. I loosened the laces and leaned against the wall.
I was tired, physically and mentally. And I was pissed, so pissed
I quickly got out of the house. A few stragglers meandered down the street. I pulled back an arrow and shot two S2’s. I retrieved my arrows, wiped off the goo, and trudged forward. After another mile of walking, I knew I needed to stop for the night. The last rays of light from the sun were almost gone and my ankle was killing me. I needed to rest it in case I needed to make a fast getaway, which was only inevitable.
I looked up and down the street I was on. Most of the store fronts had been broken, giving the impression that this town had been looted. Hunger drove me to limp inside a mini mart. Everything edible on the shelves was gone. Not giving up just yet, I took out my flashlight and made my way into the break room.
I held my breath when I opened the fridge. An unopened bottle of water sat on the bottom shelf. Someone’s yogurt parfait had molded over and dripped out onto it. Grimacing only slightly, I took it out and wrapped the bottle in a napkin. I found a can of chicken noodle soup along with a box of expired crackers in a cabinet covered with mouse droppings. Both the soup and the water were frozen.
Feeling the mini mart didn’t offer enough protection, I crossed the parking lot and stopped in front of a pet store. The glass windows and doors where still intact. I put my hands on the cold glass doors and pushed, forcing the automatic doors open. Leaving them ajar, I stepped inside.
The place seemed orderly, although I didn’t think it was surprising that no one had looted the pet store. As much as Americans loved their pets, I bet many were left behind and forgotten when the virus struck. Without making a sound, I moved to the back of the store.
A big S3 in a blue jacket slithered around the floor. He was so far gone he wasn’t worth an arrow. I picked up a can of dog food and chucked it at his head, which popped open like a rotten pumpkin. I stepped over the body, turned on my flashlight and took a look in the storage room. Besides the norm, it was empty.
This was as good of place as any to bunker down in for the night. I went back to the front of the store to close the doors. There was an office behind the registers and it had a steel door that seemed sturdy enough. I didn’t like the idea of locking myself in a room. As long as they quietly shuffled in, I could open the door to a zombie surprise party.
I grabbed a dog bed, a big metal bowl and a bag of small animal bedding. I heaved it all up onto a shelf then climbed up myself. I shoved bags of dog food onto the floor; they split open and kibble rolled out on impact. I sat on the bed and dumped the shavings into the bowl. I pulled a box of matches from my pocket and struck on, dropping it into the bowl.
It took a few attempts to get the fire going. I took the can of soup and placed it in the middle. Careful not to melt the plastic, I held the water over the flames. My appetizing dinner had only halfway thawed when the fire went out. Not wanting to waste anymore matches, I decided it was good enough.
“Goddammit,” I swore when I looked at the can of soup. I had no way of opening it. I was just about to throw it angrily on the ground when I had an idea. I wedged the can between two bags of food and pulled out my M9. Regretfully wasting a bullet, I pulled the trigger.
I shook the can before putting it to my lips. The warm broth spilled from the bullet hole and into my mouth. Careful not to swallow any metal fragments that might have fallen into the soup, I ate as much as I could, knowing that this could very well be all I get for a while. My ankle throbbed but I didn’t want to take my boot off in fear I wouldn’t be able to get it back on. I loosened the laces and leaned against the wall.
I was tired, physically and mentally. And I was pissed, so pissed
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