Word Count: 659
It’s not like I felt totally guilt free about leaving Joe behind. But like I said before, he hadn’t exactly been the best friend in the world. A total stranger had shown me more kindness than he had in a while. I knew he’d been getting sick of me, but we’d both seen this coming. I guess even a zombie apocalypse doesn’t bring people closer, especially not someone like me and someone like Joe.
People like us were never meant to work together or get on. There is a pecking order in this world, and to reach the top of it I was going to have to do this on my own. I sped away in the car, taking the last of the supplies with me. Being on top meant being above other people, too. No matter who they are.
There was nothing left in this world but me. And the vomit on the sidewalk halfway out of town.
I just swallowed a few more codeine pills and headed straight into the first drug store I came across. They had to have something to ease the pain a bit. I might have been up and walking, but everything still ached. It still felt like I’d been crushed and that my bones were just dust waiting to fall to the floor. My head still pounded and the paranoid voice was telling me that they were following me.
But when I looked around, I had Rayn with me, and real or not, it gave me the energy to keep going. That sounds fucking cheesy. But how many people can say they would have found a reason to keep going like this?
To be perfectly honest, I didn’t really get very far. After the drug store, being out in the open and moving and on my own was a bit much to deal with at once. I found this little convenience store and collapsed behind the counter, next to a body I had every right to believe was dead dead.
I guess my will to survive overpowered the urge to curl up and pretend it wasn’t happening.
Somehow I dragged myself to my feet and got my knife out. If anyone else was looking, it probably looked like two zombies fighting inside. I was as slow and sluggish as the zombie in front of me. Well. Not quite. The zombie moved faster than me. Especially when it realized I wasn’t another zombie. Guess I was doing something more than just look the part.
Its hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. Its grip was too tight and as it pulled me in, it twisted my arm so sharply I dropped my knife. My gun didn’t have the silencer screwed on, and I hardly wanted to draw any others in.
A quick spike of adrenaline shot through me as it lunged for my shoulder. I kicked hard at its shin, driving it away and down. I travelled with it until I heard and felt its bone shatter under my foot.
Moving with the momentum of my kick meant I was putting my shoulder straight in its open mouth. It might’ve been when I fell back away from it into a shelf, but… well, there was a scrape on my shoulder when I came around. I don’t think I’d been knocked out, just blacked out from the shock of coming so close to death.
The zombie was lying on the floor snapping its teeth and dragging itself towards me. It was slowly closing the distance between me and it, its eyes fixed on me, one instinct pulling it onwards, even with a lame leg.
Doing my best to make my brain stop panicking, I scrambled to my feet, scanning the floor for my knife. I couldn’t see where I’d dropped it anymore, and this thing pretty much had me in a corner. If I moved anywhere, the fucker’d snatch my foot from under me.