I drove up to the book store and parked my car. I couldn't help parking in the usual spot I went to back in the old world. Some habits just never leave us, I guess. There were only a few dead walking around the lot. I was surprised. But then I have known myself to be pretty lucky, even when I felt I didn't deserve it.
Only five lurkers were shuffling around, not counting the ones that might be in the building. That's what I called them. Lurkers. Each one of them, here and elsewhere, had their own shade of brown or grey rotting skin, dark red stains smeared on their clothing; the fashion of the undead. Already the five around me inched their way toward my car, excited at the prospect of something to gnaw on. The harsh gurgling of their voices was a noise I still couldn't quite get used to at the time, but squeezing the handle of the chef's knife I had attached to my hip was enough to give me the strength I needed. All I needed to keep in mind was to not focus on their faces, lest my body froze up from any recognition. So far it only happened once...and that was enough. I stepped out of the car and quickly disposed of the closest lurker a few feet away from me, shoving the knife into his skull with a hard chop. The feel of it was like the first stab into a pumpkin about to be carved. The dead being stopped gurgling and went limp, collapsing on the blacktop. Four more to go. The blood splattering on my clothes was also something I was getting used to. I had to remember that clean laundry wouldn't be an easy luxury to come by anymore, along with countless others. In a strange way, though, it fueled me with the desire to carry on. Seeing those red blotches on my clothing and even my skin was a reminder to me that I was still alive, still surviving. Whatever I was doing so far, it was working to keep me breathing and seeing each new day of the new world. So I didn't stop.
Inside the the book store were only two more lurkers. Finally, I breathed easy and my mind switched to a state of calm. I sheathed the knife back on my belt and took a look around. This was one of many places I wanted to stop by shortly after the shit that went down out there had settled enough. It took a few long hours of waiting and some sleep to reach that point, but here I was. What I did when the chaos stormed, I'm not ashamed of it. I just reacted. I made a choice. There was no way I was going to last long out there at the start of it all. I would have been swallowed up by it for sure if I took my chances, and either the dead or the alive would have gotten to me. I know it. So I chose to be a coward...and I waited, and waited.
Other bodies lied motionless on the floor, scattered across the store. My nostrils still wrinkled a little at the smell of them. It had gotten easier to cope with, though. I stepped over them as I first made my way over to the cafe in the corner. The machines they used for drinks still seemed intact. Even in the face of the apocalypse it seems the people wanted to defend their coffee. It was a lifeline for many of us, myself included. I walked up to the counter and smiled at no one in particular.
"Hi. Can I get a mocha, medium size? No, no extra espresso. Thanks."
I walked around the counter and stood by the cash register facing where I was seconds ago and grabbed a blood-stained medium cup to my left.
"Can I get a name? Jacob? Okay, thank you, that'll be right up."
Unfortunately there was no marker anywhere around the counter, so I dabbed my finger with the fresh blood on my jacket and scribbled my name on what unstained space there was on the cup. In the old world there was a brief period of time when I was a barista at a superstore not too far from where I was now, so making a mocha would be pretty simple. The mini fridges behind me were still working, which meant the machines would still be as well. Electricity was still running from the local power plant. For now. Inside one of the fridges was half a jug of two-percent. I poured it into a metal measuring cup, steamed the milk with the machine, pumped some chocolate syrup in coffee cup, distilled some espresso using the beans still inside, poured and stirred the milk, and then topped the cup.
I set the completed drink on counter. "Medium mocha for Jacob?"
I walked back around to the other side and grabbed the cup. "Thank you so much. Take care."
The cup warmed my hands as I strolled to the aisles of bookshelves. Some of them were knocked over, torn pages and books spread all over the carpeted floor; mystery, popular fiction, new hardcovers and softcovers, horror, supernatural, comics and graphic novels, manga, romance (I paid no mind to the romance), non-fiction, historic fiction. I expected to see as much here, but my mouth couldn't help but frown regardless. Books were a small passion of mine, and still are. One of the other many luxuries that would be hard to come by now, which is why I wanted to come here as soon as I could. The perks of being by myself.
In the horror section I instantly scanned for the letter "K" and spotted the various works of "Stephen King". Like the tens of other books here, some of these were spotted with blood and even some lurker entrails. One with only a few spots of blood caught my eye and I slid it from its shelf. "The Stand". I always wanted to read it at some point in my life. Now was a better time than ever to do so with no work or school to worry about occupying my time. Good thing, too; this was a long book.
Why not, I thought as I stared at the front cover. I sat my ass down in the middle of the aisle, opened to the first chapter and started to read, pausing now and then to sip my mocha. It easily brought me back in time and I could hear instrumental bluesy music coming from the speakers on the ceiling again. Soft sounds of chit-chat from people around me returned to my memory and I imagined the things they might say to each other. It all combined together to make nice white noise for reading...but now it only made me sad and long for a simpler time. I sighed and closed the book, resting my head back against the bookshelf.
The funny thing is...I wished for this to happen. Well, not EXACTLY this, but something like it. Still though, I had little room to complain or be upset. The way I saw it, the world was going to shit before the end times began. No one cared enough about the state of our society, our economy, our country, to make things better. They were too busy either satisfying their own agendas or keeping their eyes and ears closed to everything around them. So in my mind, there was enough blame to be pinned on all around, including on myself. With such little care to be had, eventually I simply gave up on hoping for things to get better. Instead, I wanted them to get worse. It didn't matter to me how, so long as they did. Because the sooner this country burned up, the sooner it could rise from the ashes. I wanted things to get better, I truly did, and still do. This is best way I felt it could. About two years ago...it finally happened.
I still remember the first day as though it were happening right now. I could just feel it in my blood; it was the end times. It felt like a savage intruder had invaded every single person's house and took no hesitation in destroying whatever it could touch, wrecking all that we had grown to live with and be familiar with from the inside out until we could no longer recognize what our feet were standing on...
"Hello?" a voice called out from the front entrance. My mind snapped back to reality and my hand flew to my gun hip like a magnet. I unfastened the strap on the holster and slowly slid out my 9mm. I pushed myself up to a crouching position and slowly stepping over the mess of bodies and books in the aisle, unknown footsteps moved just as slowly. The voice sounded scared, but I wasn't going to take any chances. My body went tense again and my mind switched back to Survival Mode.
I moved away from the main aisle making to go along the outside so as not to face this person from in front, peeking around the bookshelf I was at to see when he walked by. No other voices sounded after his "hello", so it must have been only him. Finally I heard him walk past and crept along the opposite side. When I reached the main aisle with his back to me I stood up and aimed the gun at him, using both hands to hold it up to my eye level, my arms rigid.
"Don't move. Turn around, slowly."
When he faced me I saw a young man. He wore a thin black hoodie and skinny black jeans. His dark brown hair was parted over from his left side to his right, small gauges in his ears. His hands shook a little as he turned on the spot and I saw a blood-stained pipe in his right hand, but his eyes showed recognition the moment he saw me, as did mine for him.
"Neil?" Neil used to work at the cafe, though I never knew him outside of the bookstore. But I knew him well enough to not feel threatened by him at this moment. Ease washed over my body once more as my Survival Mode switched off.
"Jacob! Jesus...you scared the shit out of me."
I lowered my gun and replaced it in its holster. "Sorry, man. Can't be too careful, you know?"
He nodded, showing that he certainly did. "Yeah..."
"What are you doing here? Don't you have anyone with you?"
"I did. They, uh...they didn't make it very long."
This answer immediately set off a red flag for me but then went away just as quickly; I doubted he had killed any of those who were in his group. That was just the vibe I got off his person. Still, I was curious.
"Who were you with? What happened?"
He told me he was just with the people he was working with that day, guests included. When hell hit the streets, the majority of them kept their asses indoors. But when the lurkers broke through the front doors, he and his coworkers and the guests in the store at the time locked themselves in the back room. They decided to stay put for a while and wait for any police or military or someone to show up. But before long they would have to leave for food, and coffee drinks sure weren't going to cut it. So they stepped out and were meet by over a dozen lurkers. Some tried fending them off with whatever they could find, but half of them were taken and eaten up while the rest made a break for the grocery store in the plaza on the other side of the street. Neil was one of the lucky ones. Twelve of them were left after that first encounter, which trickled down to just him after only five days as the other eleven people either left to find their families or friends, or were eaten by the dead.
"I haven't been too far from this part of town," he said. "So many of those things are blocking the streets, and I'm too afraid to go out on foot."
"Yeah...as if the real world before wasn't scary enough. But at least we don't have to worry about paying for anything anymore."
Neil let out a laugh, but it sounded as though he was uncertain what I said was funny. "Yeah, I guess..."
An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment. The two of us looked at each other for a second and then at the room around us before I broke the pause.
"So do you still have food on you?"
Neil nodded. "Uh...yeah, a little bit. I actually just came back from the store, wanting to stock up on some...but there are so many more of those things there now. I barely walked in before I turned back. I...I don't know what I'm gonna do now."
He wanted to ask me for help, I could tell. He was just too afraid to ask. Seeing me must have felt like a golden opportunity for him, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't grateful to come across a person I knew at a time like this.
I sighed and groaned a little, tilting my head to the floor. "Fuck..."
I couldn't pass this up, I knew. The grocery store across the street was part of a chain and I was aware of couple more stores and where they were in correspondence to where I was now. But it would be incredibly naive to think they wouldn't be overrun by lurkers as well. Those types of places were sure to be major hotspots for them. I had to try, because I knew I wouldn't find a better chance. My supply of food wouldn't last forever either.
I looked up at Neil. "Wanna go back there together?"
Neil's eyes showed some surprise. "Really? Y-you'll go with me?"
I nodded and then pointed at the pipe he held. "You good with that pipe?"
"I know to bash those things in the head, if that's what you mean."
I let out a laugh. "Good enough for me. Come on, let's go."
Together we walked out of the bookstore and onto the street. I stopped for a second before crossing, waiting for oncoming traffic that wouldn't show up. Neil turned to look at me, confused. "What's up?"
I merely shook my head. "Sorry. Old habits."
All of the lurkers in grocery store parking lot were taken care of. All we had to do was stand feet away from the automatic double doors of the entrance and there they were. Countless dead ones, shuffling and staggering around the floor of the market as if they forgot what they came in for. "Uhnn...I need ointment for my open-flesh wounds" is what I liked to imagine some of them were thinking then. The two of us stood there for a few seconds, looking in and listening to that incessant gurgling-growling they were forever making. I felt Neil's eyes look on me, waiting for me to speak of a plan I didn't have at the current moment. When I didn't say anything right away, he asked instead, "So, uh...how do you wanna do this?"
That's a good question, I thought to myself. I said nothing at first, staring past the doors and the lurkers inside with my hands on my hips, gears turning in my mind as possible scenarios played out in rapid succession. Finally...
"I think I'll just improvise; I'm pretty good at that."
Neil, however, didn't sound to confident in this plan. "Okay..." But before he could ask how I intended to do so, I already walked up to the double doors until they slid open. I stopped, slipped out my handgun and...
BANG!
"Attention, shoppers!" I shouted at them all. The gunshot was enough to turn their attention to me, but I figured I'd go above and beyond just to make sure the job was done. Neil rushed over to me as they made their way toward the noise, his face stricken with panic.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"I told you. Improvising." And I looked back at the now-excited lurkers coming this way.
"Don't forget to sign up for our membership card and save ten percent on every purchase! See your cashier or guest service assistant for more details! Thank you for shopping!"
I fired another shot in the air for good measure. The others in the neighboring lots of the plaza would surely be on their way over as well. Neil was already stepping backwards, away from the oncoming horde, while I stood there until a good number of them were merely feet from them. Then I turned to my left and jogged away from the entrance. Neil following close behind without hesitation.
"Wait! Where are you going?"
"To the back entrance," I said. "What? Did you think I was gonna have us fight them right there?"
"Uhh...kind of."
I laughed. "Come on, let's go."
We went along the side of the building. I felt pretty confident in my plan, it felt as though it would go fairly smooth...for about a few seconds. I didn't count on the back door already being left open, which I saw just as we turned the corner. Passing through it were some other lurkers curious of the gunshots that sounded.
I didn't say I was ALWAYS lucky...
Fear rooted me and Neil to the ground for a second. We couldn't exactly go back the way we came on account of the horde closing in behind, but I also wasn't too crazy about taking my chances on this other group now approaching us.
"Want to just run past them and loop around?" Neil suggested, but I shook my head.
"This whole plaza is one long building, I'm not about to run around it. Besides, there's no telling how many of them are still inside... Screw it." And I unsheathed my chef's knife, rushed over to the lurkers by the back door and started thrusting the blade into their skulls, side-stepping and backing away wherever necessary before striking again. I took three down before Neil finally pitched in, wailing on their heads with his pipe. But he was struggling a little, wielding it with two hands and taking long wide swings to connect the metal to their rotten flesh. At best he was simply knocking them down. One of them snatched at his hoodie and he furiously attempted to shove it off, one lying on the ground grabbed his ankle. I was quick to help him, stabbing one of them in its left temple and stomping hard on the other with my foot. Then I yanked the pipe out of his hands and handed him the knife.
"Here, I'll trade you!"
The pipe was a good deal heavier and taking the lurkers out wasn't as smooth, but it didn't hold me back much from bashing their heads and making a larger mess of blood, my arms vibrating a little each time I made contact with their bodies. Neil was doing a better job of fighting them off with the knife. By this point, the horde from the front entrance was peeking around the corner of the building. I spotted them and made to push through into the back area, beckoning Neil to follow.
"Come on, quick, before the others catch up!"
There was only a few more of smaller group to take of until we were finally inside. Neil wrenched the door closed just as the horde came over. They immediately began banging on the door and Neil and I took the time to catch our breath. Neil handed me back my knife but I held up my palm and shook my head.
"Keep it... You're too slow with that pipe. How did you not get overwhelmed before this?"
Neil shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "I didn't have to fight off so many at once. When it became too much, someone else was there to help me. Or I'd just run... I was never much of fighter, but the way things happened forced me to be like this. I didn't really have a choice."
I gave him a thoughtful look; he made a good point. "Fair enough. Come on."
Out of the back room we stepped into the dairy section of the store. Cheese, yogurt, sour cream and others were to our left. Coolers of milk, chocolate milk, almond milk, half and half and the rest was to our right. Neither of us had any intention nor use for taking anything that would need to be kept cool, so we moved on.
"What did you plan on getting?" I asked.
"Uhh...chips, maybe some canned beans. I don't know what else, though."
"That's not a bad start. I figured I would restock on some protein bars at the very least. Maybe grab some pop-tarts."
We split up. There were still shopping baskets around littered across the sales floor. We each took one and went browsing. What was kind of funny, though, is that when you shopped for groceries, you'd have a list. You knew what you needed, took it, paid for it, and then be on your way. But when given literally everything, I couldn't think of what I would want right away. I automatically navigated to the organic foods section and snagged what remained of the protein bars I usually bought in the old world. I just took what boxes they had left. Then I went back to the middle of the store for some boxes of pop-tarts; some strawberry, blueberry and brown sugar cinnamon.
All the lurkers seemed to have been led out the front by my membership card promotion; the place was dead quiet now, save for me and Neil. I met up with him by the canned goods and we added some fruit and baked beans in our assorted mix, along with a few other miscellaneous items we both considered to be good on-the-go foods. We could only get so much, and not because we couldn't carry a lot. The majority of the store was scrounged through and fought over in just the first couple days. Bags and boxes and cans of various foods were in small heaps all over the store, as well as bodies of dead and undead. The reeking smell of it all lingered and would likely continue to do so for a long time after we leave.
With the front end of the store clear I stepped outside and checked to make sure no other lurkers were coming from the neighboring parking lots. When I was certain I couldn't hear any more gurgle-growls from that direction, I beckoned Neil over to me and together we crossed the street back to the bookstore. Then we decided to take one more trip there and back before stopping.
"Well, I don't know how long that will last," said Neil, "but I think I should be good for a while."
"Yeah, same," I said.
"Hey, so..." I instantly knew what Neil was about to ask the second he paused, but I let him finish.
"...do you wanna maybe team up or something? I definitely won't be able to do this by myself."
I sighed. I hated to say no, especially when Neil was an innocent guy. But...
"I already tried grouping up with people once. It happened right after everything went downhill...but it didn't exactly work out. I feel I'm better off alone. I'm sorry..."
This really disappointed him, but I felt he understood. "I get it... But...would you mind at least...giving me a ride to my house? I want to see if anyone is there."
As much as I didn't want myself attached to another person or a group for the time being, I couldn't bring myself to say no to this. He was right, there was no way a guy like him would be able to survive in this world on his own. I gave him a small smile and nodded.
"Yeah, of course. I can do that."
He smiled at this. "Thank you so much."
"But first," I said, holding up a finger, "there are still some books I want to grab before we head off."
Neil helped me moving back and forth between my car and the bookstore, stuffing some select softcovers, hardcovers and a few graphic novels along with all the groceries we took into the trunk and the back seat. When it was all finished, Neil sat himself in the passenger side. I turned on the ignition and we were on our way to his house in a neighboring village roughly ten minutes away, but with the likelihood of a few crowds of lurkers blocking the road, it might have been closer to fifteen. Neil told me how he hoped to find his family so that could move on in the new world together, for however long they could last. I remember hoping he would find them. I had hoped I would find my family as well. The first place I checked the minute I got out of the restaurant in the mall was to my house, just minutes away from the bookstore. But when I got there, no one was home... I called them on my cell, but the satellites were quick to go down when disaster hit, and those who piloted them most likely found themselves out of commission. Or dead. I still held on to hope that I would find them, but I was afraid that hope would die out, whether it be the following day or week or month, assuming I could take care of myself long enough out here. Neil spoke to me about who he might meet up with should he find his family at home when...
My heart sank down to my stomach. Three men stood in the middle of the road. All of them armed. With reluctance, I slowed to a stop. The one in the middle waved at me but I didn't wave back. I simply frowned. Just tell me what you want, asshole. I rolled down my window but that was it; I wasn't about to expose myself.
"Hey there, friend," he called out to me. I don't know if he wanted me to respond, but I wasn't going to. He continued anyway. "I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind helping us out? We need a little fuel to get as to the closest gas station. Just a little, though, that's all."
Yeah, no. I didn't trust this fellow and his cohorts one bit. His buddies on either side had their hands on their weapons, for fuck sake. I was sure gas wasn't top on their priority list. I could almost hear Neil's heart pounding fast as he looked at them and then at me, hoping I would know how to deal with these three. Staring the middle man down with a stone-faced stare, I just shook my head. He shrugged.
"No? Don't want to be a good samaritan?"
Again. I said nothing. That's when he raised his assault weapon.
"Fine then. We'll just take all of it then."
I reacted then. Quick as I could, I moved my foot from the brake to the gas and pushed down hard. The man in the middle didn't move, just lifted his gun and fired right as I ducked my head. I heard my front tires get blown and my windshield break. But thankfully - BAM! - I hit him hard and he rolled over the top before I swerved off the road and slammed into a guard rail. My body lurched forward hard, knocking the breath out of me as I hit the steering wheel. Footsteps approached the car, but I remained still, instinctively playing dead. Moving my upper body as little as possible I slipped my handgun out of its holster and cocked it.
"Jesus... Crazy fucker," I heard one of the remaining two say.
"I didn't think he'd try to run us over."
"Yeah, well, I wasn't talking about HIM."
"Well whatever. Let's see what these guys had on them."
They walked up to the car on either side. That was fine with me. One came up to my driver's side door just as the second came over to the passenger's side, assuming to check and see if we weren't moving. I bolted upright, aimed and fired at his chest, twisted around and shot through the passenger window. Both of them collapsed to the pavement. It was afterward that I noticed my heart was also banging against my chest just as Neil's...
"Neil?"
I stared at him for moment...he wasn't moving. I placed my hands on his body and pushed him up against the seat. His eyes were wide open, but there was a red hole right between them. My eyes watered up automatically and my hand went to my face. This was my fault...I should have told him to duck, to shield himself. But I didn't. I just reacted and drove forward, too concerned with wanting to get the two of us away from those guys. I wasn't looking to hit any of them with the car. I just...wasn't thinking.
I sat there for a few minutes letting the guilt affect me. I hated myself, hated those three men, hated this new world we were forced to now live in and adapt to. I didn't want any of this.
Yes, you did, I thought to myself. You wanted things to get worse.
But how the fuck was I supposed to know they would turn out THIS bad?
You didn't. There was no way you could have. But you wanted SOMETHING.
I pounded my fist against the dashboard of my now-wrecked car, the one I had for years and had finally paid off. I pounded over and over and over until my knuckles bled and followed it up with one long scream.
That was when I thought to myself that I had to learn to accept this. I did want this, and I received much more than I would have expected. Too much. All of this, this new world, was my fault, and I needed to live with it somehow. Cliche as the old saying goes, it rings true for a reason: be careful what you wish for.
