A group of people try to survive after the zombie apocalypse.
"Eat this, bitch!" I shouted as I grabbed the zombie which had just charged me by the neck, stuffing the barrel of my carbine down its throat and pulling the trigger.
Some would call me insane. That's not true, not really; I just preferred....less conventional methods in combat. You couldn't rely on the same tactics the military would anymore - you had to fight any way that worked. I preferred to have the beast's mouth over my weapon when I killed them. I was trying to study them, though - I needed a way to stop this.
I grabbed the lone zombie, now lying face-first in the muddy field, by the leg and tied a rope around it, then attached the opposite end of the rope to my motorcycle and sped off. When I arrived back home - which was technically a department store, filled with food, entertainment and a small section for guns and archery - I dragged the zombie to the back and began to slice open its head. Then, suddenly, I heard frenzied pounding on the reinforced glass double doors at the front of the building. Cursing under my breath, I charged to the front, fully expecting to be faced with a horde of infected trying to tear down the fortifications I'd added to block entry to the place. Instead, I saw a human - a girl, standing about five feet or so, with tousled black shoulder-length hair and tanned skin.
Approaching the door, I took note of the shotgun slung across her back and the baseball bat in her hands. I could rule out the chances of her being a zombie, then, and she probably wasn't a feral because she used weapons. That didn't mean she wasn't a threat. I couldn't take the chance of her being a raider.
"Step back from the door," I shouted so she could hear me through the thick glass, pointing my sawed-off shotgun in her direction and making my assault carbine very visible to ensure cooperation.
"Okay," she mouthed, stepping back, dropping the bat and holding her hands up. This girl was very cooperative - I almost felt safe around her without a gun pointed at her.
Almost. I still held my shotgun up to her as I checked her pockets for concealed weapons, took her shotgun, and looked around to be sure she'd come alone. That was when I spotted the infected coming our way, stumbling so it came as fast as though it were charging us. I raised her shotgun, lined up my shot, and fired twice. Two identical holes appeared in the zombie's forehead, and it dropped to the ground.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, making a point not to sound too threatening while still making sure she understood I was the one in charge. "Why did you choose to stop here? You're well-armed enough, and there's another store a couple of miles down the road from here."
"I stopped here because it's getting too dark to travel much further, and I've visited that store. It's been raided, and the place is crawling with infected. Not to mention raiders made a camp near there."
"Alright," I said, deciding she couldn't do too much harm if I kept an eye - and a sight - on her. "Come on in. I'll show you where you can set up for the night." I handed the girl back her shotgun and bat, apologizing for the formality of disarming her and checking her pockets. "So, what's your name?"
"My name's Amy Carter. I came from Eastbrook, just Northeast -"
"Yeah, I know where Eastbrook is. I grew up there, myself, actually."
"Really? Small world."
"Yeah, I guess so," I answered. "Here's your improvised living space, until we can get you set up in a real....uh, room-type setup."
Laughing, Amy responded, "Okay, sounds good. Nice....improvised living space you've got set up for me here."
I grinned and gave her a look that said, I'm glad you like it, then continued, "Stay out of the back, that's my...area. Other than that, what's mine is yours. And yours only. No funny business, please."
"Alright, I promise to be a good girl. I haven't even seen anyone else - except for the raiders."
"Okay, good." I stood there awkwardly for a second before saying, "How about something to eat?"
"Please," Amy said pleasantly.
I grabbed some bottled water off of a shelf, then picked up some microwaved dinners and set them to cook in a microwave I'd taken off a shelf in the first days of the pandemic. "Hope you don't mind," I said, "we have a little limited variety of food here, so we're mostly going to be stuck with stuff that can be prepared in a microwave."
"That's fine," she said, seeming perfectly content with anything edible.
A short while later, the two of us picked up and got ready to go to bed. I had set all of the motion sensors and other toys I'd brought with me around the perimeter, so we would be alerted of any intrusion.
"Goodnight, Sam," Amy called out to me as I walked to the back.
"Goodnight," I called back, and let the doors swing shut behind me.