Luca: Solo RunMature

Word Count: 1165

   

So it’s okay for them to call me white trash but it’s not okay for me to call one of them a nigger? I saw the look Joe gave me. The black guy didn’t look at all surprised. I stopped myself from saying it, though, so it doesn’t fucking count anyway.

I shrugged on my jacket that’d been hiding under the seat in the car and set off without another word to any of them. I’d get their stupid supplies and do it without dragging half a town of zombies back with me in the process. I’m the one that’ll do something well just to spite the person that doesn’t believe I can do it. I’d get some more gas for the car while I was at it – we were running low. A couple of cans weren’t going to be much good if we needed to get far.

I parked the car up in the middle of the high street in the town centre. There were plenty of zombies wandering around, their eyes slowly turning to me as I stepped out of the car. I pictured the nigger that glared at me as I shot the first one. The next one was the old guy that thinks he can push me around. The faces of the group rotated in my mind as each zombie fell dead to the feet of the others.

When I ran out of targets, I growled at the empty street. I wasn’t done yet. But they were done with me. I got back in the car and drove off in search of the nearest Wal-Mart. It wasn’t too far. The first stop I made was in the gas station just outside it. Half the pumps had already been emptied and I just about drained the rest of them. I only got six more cans out of what was left. It’d have to do, though. We’d just have to make more stops and get more cans just in case.

We. I wasn’t sure if Joe would want to see me again, and to be perfectly fucking honest, I didn’t know if I wanted to see him either. It was so fucking tempting to just go on my own. I wouldn’t last long on my own, I knew that, but I was beginning to think it’d be a whole lot less stress if I was the only one around.

The super store wasn’t too hard to get into. I wasn’t the first to go there. I stood for a few seconds to try and let my eyes adjust to the dim light. The strip lighting had gone a long time ago, by the looks of it. Bits of glass from the bulbs crunched under my feet. I silently cursed them for giving away exactly where I was.

A snarl echoed through the huge building. The shelving units stopped me from seeing where it was, but I could hear its feet thumping along the floor towards me. I let my knife slide down into my hand, ready for the fucker. I couldn’t hear any others, but I’m sure there were some. I’d find them soon enough.

It found me pretty quickly, slipping on fruit that had fallen on the floor and gone mushy with age. It skidded forwards, still running like a demented, starved man. The blade of my knife sliced through its skull with a crunch and a squelch and a shudder. Pulling it out, I let the zombie fall on its face, moving forward. I only found a couple others, munching out on the meat that was sat in the fridges going rotten. After that I was pretty sure I was on my own.

I pulled a cart from the front of the store and walked it back to the aisle filled with the canned shit in it. I couldn’t help but wonder while I was carelessly chucking the cans into the cart... how the fuck were people going to survive when we ran out of canned food? It wasn’t going to last forever, and by the look of this place, it wouldn’t even be another week before it was all gone.

I wondered if I could find a little farm or something when I got to Canada and set it up quickly enough that I wouldn’t go without for too long. I can grow weed, I’m sure food isn’t much harder than that. I just had to hope that there wasn’t a shortage of gas before then.

I wasn’t too sure what Joe meant by ‘feminine hygiene’. I picked up a few of those girly looking body sprays and some tampons, hoping they’d be what they wanted. Tooth paste, bottled water and batteries. None of them were too hard to find, and by the time I was done, I’d filled up two carts with the shit they wanted.

There were a couple more zombies on my way out. They weren’t close enough to catch me or pose any threat, but I found myself sprinting at them anyway. Stabbing them both in the face wasn’t enough. I was still running on pure anger.

My stomach growled at me, reminding me of how empty it was as they flopped onto the parking lot ground. If I kept up like this I was going to end up feeling worse than I already was, but I had no appetite. All I wanted to do was make those fuckers pay. Mindless idiots had turned everyone into mindless killing machines. Like half of America didn’t already eat too much.

Once everything was loaded in the car, piled up from the foot wells and onto the backseats, I walked slowly around the area, killing anything that moved. There were a couple of close calls when I was rushed at from behind.

In those moments as this rotten hunk of meat was pulling me backwards against its body, I felt totally calm. Even though I was fighting to escape it, I felt like I was at peace. As soon as my knife found its way into the zombie’s head, the tide of anger came sweeping back in. If it bit me, I wouldn’t fight it like everyone else did. Maybe I’d even find Rayn again in whatever afterlife there might be.

Eventually the hunger took over and I went back inside the Wal-Mart to pick up some more junk food I could eat on the way back.

 

The whole camp watched as I drove back into the camp. Most of them looked shocked that I’d bothered showing my face again. Joe especially. The old guy looked like he was reluctantly impressed with my haul, but most of them were too hungry to care who brought them the food. I pushed just over half of what I got out of the car onto the ground, leaving what was out of sight behind. I wasn’t planning on staying much longer and they weren’t the only ones that needed to eat. 

The End

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