ALYSSA
Three days later, I overhear Randy discussing another supply run with Sarah. A fission of excitement bubbles away in my stomach as I think about the prospect of going with him. I’ve been feeling a little bit of cabin fever stuck inside these walls. It’s been growing since I first arrived and I’ve hated the slight discomfort with myself. This is the obvious way to cure this, as a way to find satisfaction in my new environment. It’s the best I could have hoped for, and I
do
love it here, I really like all of the people, especially Emily. We’ve started to develop a fantastic friendship, despite our palpable differences.
I wait impatiently for them to finish their conversation before bounding over and proposing the idea to Randy. A wary look fills his eyes as I speak and I can tell he thinks I’ll be a liability. I try to convince him, I use everything I’ve got, all my persuasive tactics, and eventually I start to wear him down. After all, it wasn’t a coincidence that I lasted so long alone, is it? He knows I can fight, he knows I’m smart. When we get out there, and I
know
I’ll be going, I’ll prove myself worthy.
The next morning, I get a very begrudging “
yes
” and I’m over the moon. I knew he’d crack of course, I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist my offer. Before we leave, he makes a quick trip over to Sarah’s cottage. It isn’t far from the church, so it’s a fairly safe journey, but the house is very exposed so no one goes there without a good purpose. He’s gone to pick up a selection of new clothes, to give Sarah a bit of a break from washing. I think he’s getting worried about her; she does seem to be becoming more disconnected from us all as the days pass by. I barely know her, of course, so I can’t have too strong an opinion, but I know Emily has concerns.
When he returns with a large mishmash of items in his hands, we all root through them excitedly. Although these clothes belong to Sarah, Emily, Ben, and the vicar, none of them mind us helping ourselves. I pick my clothes carefully, wanting to look good for my mission. When I can sense a big event such as this arriving, the film set floods my mind again. I find dark denim skinny jeans, which are only slightly too big, a long sleeve black t-shirt and combat boots. I’m so glad they’re in my size. I look down at myself, wishing I had a mirror, and thinking this outfit suits my upcoming role well. It isn’t too different from my ‘uniform’ pre-zombies, so on top of looking great, it’s comfortable too. Of course, my hair is matted and unwashed, but you can’t have everything. If I tightly pin it back, you can hardly tell how gross it is. I sling an empty backpack over my shoulder, ready to be filled with whatever spoils we manage to collect today and I grab my muddy, blood-covered axe. I’m ready to go.
I’m actually really excited about this mission. I haven’t had to scavenge for anything yet, I had things really easy at the B and B, so I’m eager for the new adventure. A part of me is frightened too, of course, but I push those feelings to one side, determined to feel only the positive emotions. I imagine myself telling this story to future generations, maybe even my own children. I imagine their eyes lighting up with awe as I talk about my bravery, about my unselfish decision to go out and gather supplies for my fellow group members.
I say a quick goodbye to everyone, not wanting to make a big deal out of leaving. That will just allow the nerves to kick in. A sad smile plays on Emily’s lips as she mouths a quiet goodbye my way. I can see that she’s worried about losing me, her first decent friend since the apocalypse began. I try to convey to her that I’ll be fine with my eyes, but I’m not sure it comes across well.
My heart is racing with anticipation as the doors creak open, and a slither of light sneaks through the crack, blinding us for a second. We can’t quite see around to the door via the window, so we have no idea how many zombies we are going to be immediately faced with. I’m ready for it though, I’m prepared.
“Argh!” I scream as I slice my axe through a disgusting, pus bag’s head. Luckily there were only four zombies outside, which was no problem for me and Randy. I shoot him a quick smile as I take out another with ease, and I think I see a bit of awe in his expression. I’m pleased that I’ve managed to impress so early on. I can’t help but hope that the others are watching me at this moment too. Well, Emily mostly. She’s so smart; I want her to see that I have worth too.
As soon as the nearby zombies have been taken care of, we take off quickly, wanting to get back before the church gets overly surrounded again. I follow behind Randy, unsure of where we’re heading. Despite all of my time running through the town, I still don’t know it very well. I was so focused on the church, I didn’t notice much else.
We end up at a large shopping centre. We’re both panting as Randy tells me his plan. “This is the nearest half-decent place to the church. Obviously we want to get back before it gets dark so I didn’t want to go too far. If you want, get some medical supplies—you know, antibiotics, bandages, that sort of thing. You never know when we might need any of that stuff and I’d much rather have it already with us. I’ll get some more food. While we’re out, I might as well stock up a bit more. We’ll meet back at the entrance ASAP.”
I gulp, trying not to make a big deal out of the fact that we’ll be splitting up. I wasn’t really prepared for that. I
did
insist on tagging along, and I am used to being alone. I just need to do this. Get through it and I’ll have full respect. I’ve just…never gone into the lion’s den willingly before. I may be brave, but I’m not stupid. Stupidity gets you killed. Emotions rise through my throat like bile so I clamp my mouth shut and nod curtly. I don’t want Randy to even see a flicker of fear or negativity cross my features for even a split second. I’m not a kid; I really need him to see that I’m just as capable as he is.
We move in slowly. Everything seems quiet. I start to wonder if someone has already been in here and cleaned the place out. I open my mouth to ask Randy if this is somewhere that he’s visited before, when a crashing sound comes from nowhere. I emit a small squeal before I can stop myself, and immediately try to cover it up with a cough. Randy isn’t paying any attention to me, he’s on high alert. His gun is held high, aiming in a variety of locations, trying to focus in on its target. How is he so calm?
Nothing happens. Not at first. Randy signals at me to keep moving, so I keep close to him. My heartbeat thunders, my eyes tingle with water. I hate this anticipation, I wish whatever is going to happen would just get on with it. It’s the waiting that I can’t stand. I can hear all sorts of small sounds in every direction. I’m not sure which of them are real and which have been created by my overactive imagination.
A growl, right behind me. This one I know for sure is genuine I spin round; ready to defend myself but before I can even move Randy has plunged a knife into its forehead, forcing blood and filth to cover me. I watch in amazement as it slumps to the ground, its life rapidly ebbing away. He did that so quickly I didn’t even notice it happening. He’s already moving on, not even reacting to what just happened. Is he just so used to things like that? Do they no longer scare him? And if he didn’t see them as zombies, how did he know to kill them like that? I try to think back to the news reports, maybe they instructed this sort of thing, but it’s so hard to distinguish what I heard, what I read, and what I already knew about zombies.
“Okay, so as we discussed, we’ll meet back here as soon as we’ve got everything. If I’m any longer than 20 minutes or anything happens to make you feel insecure, head back to the church—you know the way—and I won’t be far behind you. Don’t, under
any
circumstances, allow yourself to get hurt.”
He turns on his heel and is gone before I can reply, before I can tell him that I don’t actually remember the way, I was too focused on following his footsteps to notice landmarks on the journey. I shake my head and take a deep breath, promising myself that there’s no point in worrying, it won’t even come to that. I look around, realising I don’t even know where to begin in this place. I’ve never been here to know the location of any of the shops.
I force my feet to move. I’m sure it won’t be too difficult to locate what I’m looking for, and standing still certainly isn’t going to get me anywhere. My heart beat is screaming loudly, my brain buzzing with thoughts, making it very hard to hear anything else. Movement. I heard something, I’m sure I did. My eyes flicker around in every direction; my body is ready to fight. My pulse rate increases rapidly, my head starts to ache with tension.
Nothing. It’s nothing. I’ve got to stop it. The zombie Randy killed has got me paranoid. I don’t know why I’m feeling so frightened, I’ve been through a lot worse. Get a grip, Alyssa.
I continue to creep until eventually I turn a corner and find myself face to face with a pharmacy. The relief of this sight calms me right down. Any more fear might have given me a heart attack. I quickly sprint in, eager for this mission to be over. Much as I’m glad to be outside, being useful, I can’t wait to return and know I’m safe. Then I can reflect on all of this and see the positive aspects with hindsight. I grab boxes of all kinds of medication; pain killers, insulin, antibiotics, a first aid box, anything I can get my hands on. This is a really good idea. Any illness in the zombie apocalypse can be the death of you. It isn’t exactly like medical care is easily accessible. It’s a huge possibility which people probably don’t consider until it’s too late. I feel a little smug at how prepared my group is.
My brain concocts another noise which makes me violently jump, only this time when I spin around, my face smacks straight into a man’s chest. It was real this time, I wasn’t just paranoid. After a split second of panic, I raise my axe, trying to get it above my head, only to feel it come lose and be pulled out of my grip. I try to grasp tighter, but my palms have become silky and useless with sweat.
“Hey, hey,” a calm voice immediately eradicates the possibility of zombies. “There’s no need for that, little lady.”
I look up to find out where the smooth voice is coming from, just to find myself faced with an extremely handsome man, who’s probably in his early 20’s. I’m stunned into silence—his crinkly, infectious smile wiping any possible witty remark right out of my mouth. He’s very tall, about six feet, with pale red hair and sparkly blue eyes. He has a cool preppy look about him—underneath all the dirt and grime. I can just imagine how many girls have fallen at his feet, unable to resist him. In the old life anyway.
“Erm, I, uh—” I stutter, unable to form words. I can’t get my brain to engage, I can’t make it power my voice box. What’s happening to me? I’ve never found myself rendered quite so speechless. I can see he’s amused as my face gets hotter. I hate looking like an idiot and it’s making me even more flustered.
Finally he breaks the silence, trying to put my obvious discomfort at ease. “May I ask what you’re doing here?” I find him so incredibly likable that I start to unwind just from those few words. I don’t even
consider
distrusting him.
Conscious of time, I tell him a very short, abridged version of the events that led me to here. “Long story short, a group of us are staying in a church nearby. We’ve just come out on a supply run, I’m not actually by myself, but I’ve got to get back soon, so if I could please get my axe back, that’d be great.” I keep looking over my shoulder, trying to highlight the fact that I really need to go. I desperately hope that he doesn’t ask me for more details. Now just isn’t the time to go into my whole saga.
He doesn’t answer immediately so I attempt a different tact. I try pleading with him through my eyes. I try to get across that I can’t leave without my weapon. I feel naked and exposed without it. I start to feel frustration bubbling up inside me. I don’t need this right now. Isn’t the fact that it’s the zombie apocalypse bad enough?
Eventually he laughs, showing me that he was messing with me. I don’t appreciate that at all. I glare at him under my eyelashes, not wanting to escalate the situation, but wanting him to know that I’m annoyed.
Then his expression turns serious. “Okay, I’ll make a deal with you. I’m sick of being here by myself. If I can come back with you, join you at the church, you can have your axe back.”
Initially I’m stumped. Of course I understand his dilemma—I was in the same position myself not so long ago. I know that it’s much safer being with others. Plus, who knows what skills he could possess. He does look very strong and able. I try to picture him fitting in with the group. They
were
very accepting of me, and Randy did say he wanted to find others. In fact, the more I think it over, the more the obvious answer has to be yes.
I nod silently, unable to trust myself to speak. I’m really hoping Randy is okay with my decision, even though it’s never been appointed; he’s clearly the leader of us all. I can’t think of any reason why he wouldn’t be, but I feel really cheeky making the decision for the group.
As we walk, a thought hits me. “Are you by any chance E?” I hold my breath, praying for him to say he is. I think everyone will be glad to find the mystery person who has been leaving us all messages. That’ll make my decision seem more rational.
Unfortunately he shakes his head. “I’ve seen a message from someone calling themselves E though around town. I’m actually called Pete. How about you?”