A/N: This story really doesn't have the same plot as the movie Zombieland, so I'm sorry if the title was misleading, I just thought it fit. I already have a couple more chapters written, so all I can say is I wish you enjoy it!
It was later in the day, the sun getting lower in the sky on the pleasantly warm summer day. The brunette walked down the middle of the road, the gentle breeze running excitedly through her hair, cooling her neck. It was quiet except for the tap tap tap of her shoes on the gravely pavement. Barbed wire fence had run on both sides of the road, making the girl feel safer until it somewhat abruptly stopped and sagged to the ground. She anxiously continued at a brisk pace, not even knowing where she was really headed, but she wouldn't be able to stop and rest until she found temporary refuge. And it seemed a pretty slim chance, acknowledging the dried yellow grasses swaying in the breeze that was no longer calming, but nagging, displayed on either side. Grass. Just grass.
Well, at least she hadn't seen a body since earlier last night. That was comforting. But it was kind of eerie, too.
The backpack that hung off her shoulder was beginning to get pretty heavy due to weariness and lack of food. She had to ration it, eating very little each time it came to the point of when she wanted to cry her stomach hurt so much from hunger pains. The teen hadn't had an opportunity really in the past week to get more supplies. Having passed a supermarket with zombies inside three days ago, she had decided against it and continued on. Now that she thought about it, maybe she might have been able to fend them off. Having there been at least four, she dropped that thought. All that was left food-wise were energy bars and trail mix. Good sources of protein, but not filling enough. The trail mix was vegan, but as for the energy bars, all hope was lost about ever being able to maintain a high vegan diet during a zombie apocalypse. And only two bottles of water.
That worried her.
She was still slightly irritated at having had to leave behind some clothes to carry extra food and supplies. There was a pair of Converse that she had worn of the time on her journey, and they were wearing quickly. One pair of dark blue jeans that were a little bit too small, one thin white tank top, a loose-hanging blue t-shirt, and a black biker jacket. Those were the only spare clothes that belonged to her at the moment, besides the purple Ed Hardy tee she was sporting now with the dark blue jeans. Only one bra; front clasp, white. Two pairs of white Adidas socks, filthy. You would be surprised how many pairs of underwear she could fit in such a small space though.
Other supplies in her bag consisted of Band-Aids, hand sanitizer, alcohol (the kind for disinfecting, not drinking), a cheap hairbrush, one travel-sized bottle of shampoo, a bobby pin, a map she didn't even know how to read, and mouthwash. She had lost her toothbrush trying to fend off the undead with a poke in the eye. Hadn't helped much.
She sighed at remembering the diamond earring that lay in one of the compartments of the backpack. It had been her friend Martina's before she turned into a zombie and decided to try to murder her only other friend, after killing Carl.
Martina and Carl, early twenties, had left their hometown to seek refuge, Rachel tagging along as the place she had lived in became invested with zombies, disease, and decay. She thought they had become quite close; well, as close as strangers thrown together in the chaos of a zombie apocalypse with the human species dwindling could possibly get.
They had walked into a Ross one morning, the short brunette considering a new pair of possible boots when she heard a scream. She dropped them as she grabbed the backpack and spun around the corner of one of the shoe aisles to witness Carl being dragged by something out of view and down by the aisle with all the fancy pillows. She knew right then that there would be no going back for him, it was already too late, and was sad to think she would never see the kind, caramel-colored shaggy hair of the handsome young man again.
Martina came trudging out from the racks decorated with bags and purses, the teen startled when she noticed the discolored, bruised, dirty skin of her Italian companion. Her eyes were distant, only hungering for the tanned skin of the younger girl. She shrieked, running towards the back of the filled store. She had tried to flip over a rack with holiday stuff on it to slow the new zombie, but only shortened the distance between the two before giving up on her diminutive strength and fleeing again, still in the same direction.
Having scaled much of the store, she stopped frantically, waving her hands about before leaping down an aisle and jumping back out at the frizzy-haired zombie with a lamp pointed at her like a mighty sword. Zombie-Martina only grumbled loudly and staggered forward, wasting no time. Though she was only 5'3, she in fact had a good swing. She flinched when the metal part of it struck the person she had once known in the side of the head. It slowed her opponent, but she swung again from the other side, nasty blood and juices spurting from the head. Martina dropped to the ground at the end of the aisle, barely moving, but ever so slightly.
The seventeen year-old squealed, bounding over the body before taking off. The earring she found at the entrance to the store barely processed in her mind as she frantically made her get-away, swooping it into her palm before sprinting into the parking lot and out into the abandoned roads. She had kept it because it reminded her of the struggle, and of the decent times she had had with her travel companions while it had lasted.
This road was worn; what was she supposed to do with the rest of her life? Possibilities were endless, yet limited. She could do practically anything because of the state her world was in, but so little due to the same predicament. All she now saw in her once-wide future was wandering forever this world alone, until she grew old and desperate and either killed herself or went insane because of the conditions of the world.
Her stomach growled insistently, but she had eaten only a few hours back. She needed to wait at least a couple more before digging into an energy bar.
Future life and hunger had distracted her long enough for her to miss it when something finally came into view very far ahead on the flat landscape. Her hopes kind of faltered when she realized it was only a tree in the distance. Sighing, she pushed on through her tiredness and came to a decision to count all of the wisps of clouds in the sky.
Fifteen wisps counted later, the spent brunette looked at the tree again. There was something beside it, dark in color, a big mass of an object. She felt sort of excited, curious to know what it may be. Her spirits brightened, smiling at the thought that there might be a small chance she'd have somewhere to stay tonight. She picked up the pace, the aching of her shoulders, the drooping of her eyes, and the dragging of her limbs forgotten.
Probably a half hour later (she really needed a new watch), she was able to make out that it was a car, a black Mercedes Benz, dipping off the side of the road and into the dead grasses partially. She jogged; she couldn't help it, she was exhausted, but the adrenaline rushing through her all told her to get to the car. Not having seen a car in days, she prayed it worked and had gas. She, Martina, and Carl had mostly traveled by car until one day they neglected to watch it and was overtaken by zombies. The short diva had been walking for at least five weeks now.
Her heartbeat jumped around erratically when she came up beside the Escalade. The front of the vehicle faced her, the engine off. Please let the keys be in there! The door to the back seat was wide open, and she was expecting to look in and find a body.
She did find a body, actually. But it wasn't torn to shreds like all the other ones she had encountered. A young blonde girl, most likely her age, lay across the back seat motionless. Despair grew in the pit of her stomach, taking in the sight of the blonde; she was extremely pretty, with soft-looking skin and a big sweep of eyelashes that rested over her closed eyes, innocent, splayed across the backseat like a doll thrown on a chair.
A moan sounded from inside the car, and Rachel's eyes immediately switched back to the blonde instead of the empty ignition. Eyes moved behind the closed lids, and the other girl's head rolled to the side. She was still alive, but barely.
Rachel jumped into action, pulling a bottle of water from the backpack. Hopping into the back of the car, she had wished she had been a little easier on it because the blonde's eyes fluttered open, staring wide in panic. Hazel orbs searched over her, calming a bit when she realized she wasn't of the undead. The hazel eyes got wide again when they latched onto the bottle of unopened water, pleading. Rachel lifted it up, looking at it and then at the blonde. The other girl nodded once, apparently too weak to do much of anything else except keep her eyes fixed on the water.
Closing the door to the car so no zombies could sneak up on them, she bent over and climbed in. She inched her way over to the limp body, removing the cap and holding it tight in her palm, the other holding the bottle out towards the blonde. Her back leaned against the back of the driver's seat, her knees pressing onto the edge of the seat. Squished between the two, she watched as those beautiful hazel eyes dragged themselves to the water, a pained look crossing the other girl's face. Her eyes met Rachel's, brimming with tears.
Rachel smiled as big as she could before placing her free arm under the blonde's back, circling around her waist to prop her up against the door. A shock traveled through her arm, the feeling of touching the human flesh of another person again stimulating her senses. Removing her arm, the brown eyes flickered to hazel, and they met. The blonde stared at her now, not taking her eyes off the brunette. Bringing the bottle close to the blonde's mouth, she first took her other hand and tilted the blonde's head back, pouring in a little bit before shutting her jaw. The blonde swallowed hurriedly, eyes begging for more. She did the same thing again, tilting back her head, pouring in a little and closing her mouth, the reaction of the hazel-eyed girl the same.
It felt like it took forever to get the whole bottle down the blonde. Rachel guessed she must have been so weak from dehydration, a little more color on the blonde's cheeks now, more alert and watching the starlet. Rachel smiled big again as she grabbed the cap and screwed it back on, placing the empty bottle in the backpack to reuse it again sometime.
"Better?" she asked quietly.
The blonde nodded.
"I'm glad," she said. "My name's Rachel Berry," she stated.
"Mine's Quinn Fabray," the blonde announced meekly.
Rachel's eyes grew at the melodious voice that had replied, her heart beating rapidly again at the beauty of the sound. She wanted to hear more of it.
"Is this your car?"
The blonde shook her head. Double damn.
"How'd you end up here?" she persisted.
"I don't really remember." The blonde's brow furrowed. "Just a lot of walking, and each day there was less and less food and water and then eventually none so I got worse. I found the car early this morning and climbed in and then I passed out I assume." God, that voice was gorgeous.
"There aren't any keys in the ignition," she mentioned.
"Hadn't really taken the time to notice," Quinn shrugged.
"That's alright," Rachel chuckled. She saw the blonde smile for the first time, and it set her heart soaring. "Maybe after your stomach settles a bit from its first intake in a while, you can manage eating a little of an energy bar." Rachel wanted to feed the blonde and touch those soft cheeks again. No, she wanted to eat her- Rachel! You barely know the girl, don't think that. She gulped, her conscience winning the best of her.
"You seem kinda tense," Quinn interjected her thoughts, staring calmly at her.
"Uh, yeah, I'm just worried, about, you know, zombies and stuff," she fumbled.
"Aren't we all," Quinn smirked, tilting her head to the side to examine the brunette.
"What are you doing, Quinn Fabray?" Rachel felt uncomfortable at the blonde's action.
"Checking you out, Rachel Berry," the blonde murmured. "You don't seem like the serial killer type," she concluded, meeting her gaze with a slight smile.
"And neither do you," she said perkily.
"Hey, um," the blonde averted her eyes for a second before resting on her once again, "can I have some of that energy bar now by chance? I'm starving."
Feedback is highly appreciated ;) If there's something you'd like to see in an upcoming chapter, let me know and we'll see if it works. Fare thee well!