aisle to aisle, moving quietly to avoid potentially bringing down an entire group at once.
While stuffing two shopping carts full of clothing--all of which I'd have to fold later to make sure they took up minimal space in the van—it is hard not to think about the time Cole and I spent in a similar store when we first met. It seems like a lifetime ago. I'd been separated from my friends and we had to grab some bikes to speed up our progress, but we'd stopped for a break so I could cut his hair for him, a job that was long overdue. It was a strangely intimate moment to share between near strangers, and it was the first time I'd noticed that there was more to him than being the jerk who'd grabbed me off the streets of Ravencrest when he was trying to track down his uncle. The two of us got off to kind of a rocky start, but we've come a long way since then.
It ’s impossible to ignore that things have been rough between us for the last few weeks though, and I’m not sure what to make of it. We don’t fight or anything, but we don’t really talk either. Now that we’re both living in his world, with his friends, it isn’t really the same as before when we were on the run together. But I know I have a habit of getting restless. Being out here, doing my own thing again, and not having to rely on him to keep me company/busy/entertained/whatever all day, every day will make a big difference. And things are still way better with him than they were before we met—when I was stuck with a massive crush on Alex, who couldn’t see anyone but his girlfriend, Marybeth.
Once my cart is overflowing with polo shirts and jeans, I take the last ten minutes I have before L iam is supposed to pick me up at the front of the store for myself, browsing the odds and ends that haven’t been picked through yet. All of the food is long gone or way past expiration, but there's an interesting selection of things from the world that came before. Odds are we'll never be coming back to this town, so there's no point in leaving any stone unturned. I grab a couple of books for Cole and a band shirt for Zack, already imagining their faces when I come home bearing gifts.
My mom used to travel a lot for work, but she'd always come back with something small for both me and my dad. As soon as she got home from each trip, before even taking off her coat, she'd fish our presents out of her purse and hand them over. They were always something small and usually edible, but the ritual was part of the Cooper family identity. Maybe it's something I can start up with my friends now that I'll be going out more often.
On a whim, I jog over to the electronics section and grab a few CDs to give to my new tea mmates for the drive back home. I hear something fall to the floor in a different section of the store. I’ve already killed four infected since I first pried open the automatic doors, but it’s a big store and I’m still not alone in here. Unwilling to stick around any longer, I grab a random selection and hope for the best.
I quickly roll one of my carts outside to the front of the store and head back to the men ’s section for the other, all the while feeling like the idiot heroine of any number of horror movies. Except I know if it comes down to me versus monsters, I’m a lot more capable than a helpless bimbo.
Two of the infected have found their way to my cart. Neither one looks like they ’ve been dead for long—they might have been hiding out in the store for months even before they died—but everything about them, from their stance to their smell, tells me they aren’t alive anymore. The taller of the two, a man, has lost an entire arm. His companion is a girl who looks like she was probably a couple of years younger than me when she died. All of her limbs are intact, but her throat’s been ripped out—the girl never stood a chance. I’d prefer not to have to take these two on since fighting could attract even more unwanted attention, but
While stuffing two shopping carts full of clothing--all of which I'd have to fold later to make sure they took up minimal space in the van—it is hard not to think about the time Cole and I spent in a similar store when we first met. It seems like a lifetime ago. I'd been separated from my friends and we had to grab some bikes to speed up our progress, but we'd stopped for a break so I could cut his hair for him, a job that was long overdue. It was a strangely intimate moment to share between near strangers, and it was the first time I'd noticed that there was more to him than being the jerk who'd grabbed me off the streets of Ravencrest when he was trying to track down his uncle. The two of us got off to kind of a rocky start, but we've come a long way since then.
It ’s impossible to ignore that things have been rough between us for the last few weeks though, and I’m not sure what to make of it. We don’t fight or anything, but we don’t really talk either. Now that we’re both living in his world, with his friends, it isn’t really the same as before when we were on the run together. But I know I have a habit of getting restless. Being out here, doing my own thing again, and not having to rely on him to keep me company/busy/entertained/whatever all day, every day will make a big difference. And things are still way better with him than they were before we met—when I was stuck with a massive crush on Alex, who couldn’t see anyone but his girlfriend, Marybeth.
Once my cart is overflowing with polo shirts and jeans, I take the last ten minutes I have before L iam is supposed to pick me up at the front of the store for myself, browsing the odds and ends that haven’t been picked through yet. All of the food is long gone or way past expiration, but there's an interesting selection of things from the world that came before. Odds are we'll never be coming back to this town, so there's no point in leaving any stone unturned. I grab a couple of books for Cole and a band shirt for Zack, already imagining their faces when I come home bearing gifts.
My mom used to travel a lot for work, but she'd always come back with something small for both me and my dad. As soon as she got home from each trip, before even taking off her coat, she'd fish our presents out of her purse and hand them over. They were always something small and usually edible, but the ritual was part of the Cooper family identity. Maybe it's something I can start up with my friends now that I'll be going out more often.
On a whim, I jog over to the electronics section and grab a few CDs to give to my new tea mmates for the drive back home. I hear something fall to the floor in a different section of the store. I’ve already killed four infected since I first pried open the automatic doors, but it’s a big store and I’m still not alone in here. Unwilling to stick around any longer, I grab a random selection and hope for the best.
I quickly roll one of my carts outside to the front of the store and head back to the men ’s section for the other, all the while feeling like the idiot heroine of any number of horror movies. Except I know if it comes down to me versus monsters, I’m a lot more capable than a helpless bimbo.
Two of the infected have found their way to my cart. Neither one looks like they ’ve been dead for long—they might have been hiding out in the store for months even before they died—but everything about them, from their stance to their smell, tells me they aren’t alive anymore. The taller of the two, a man, has lost an entire arm. His companion is a girl who looks like she was probably a couple of years younger than me when she died. All of her limbs are intact, but her throat’s been ripped out—the girl never stood a chance. I’d prefer not to have to take these two on since fighting could attract even more unwanted attention, but
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