Rule #1 of Having a Girlfriend in Zombieland: Use protection.
Even though we are four of the only people we know to exist on earth, Krista and I are not exactly in a hurry to repopulate. Don't get me wrong, she's amazing, and I fucking love her, but pregnancy- not to mention, babies- are messy, scary, and have a lot of needs. This doesn't exactly mesh with our current life style, which is mostly hit and run. That is, hit zombies with our car, and run.
So, we were fine for the first few weeks, she had some condoms, and it wasn't like we had a lot of free time to do it with her twelve year-old sister around and Tallahassee just being himself. However, after a few covert hookups, we were running perilously low. Whenever we passed through towns, we always stocked up on ammo, but I hadn't anticipated having this much luck in my entire life. We were driving through Portland when Krista punched me in the arm and jerked her head at Tallahassee in the driver's seat.
"Hey, man." I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Dude, we're totally out of Purell. Can you drop me and Wichita near a drug store?"
"Sure, but what do we do while y'all are gettin' hand sanitizer?" He raises his eyebrows at me and looked over at Little Rock, drowsing in the front passenger seat.
"We passed a gun range a few miles back, you can circle around and have a little fun." Wichita said calmly. She had gotten a lot better at negotiating with the others as we learned how to work together.
Rule #2 of Having a Girlfriend in Zombieland: Let her do the talking.
Krista woke Little Rock gently before we climbed out of the car. "We're going shopping. You cool going shooting?"
"Sure." She shrugged and yawned. "Y'all have a good time 'shopping.'"
We watched them pull away and started walking down main street, on out guard for zombies. "She really isn't just twelve, huh?"
"You have to think of her as aging in zombie years." Krista said, laughing a little. "For every month, two years."
"Well that makes her-" I think for a second. "Nearly eighteen."
"Baby sister's all grown up." She smiled at me, and my stomach flipped. I got that we were likely the last people on earth and all, but I never forgot how lucky I was. That was something you had to keep reminding yourself as the days passed: We were only alive because of moderate skill and pure dumb luck. We turned our attention back to our surroundings, looking at every object with unveiled suspicion. Another good thing about living in Zombieland: no need to act on social cues. If you thought there were zombies around a corner, you could give that corner your worst death stare.
The street was deserted, so we let our guard down to amber alert, and looked around. A CVS was across the street from us, and we jogged over, still checking the area out suspiciously. The automatic doors swung open, surprising us momentarily.
"Back-up generators." We said simultaneously. We'd gotten used to occasionally running into working electronics. We entered the store, and she shot one of the cash registers, which made a loud noise, followed by a bell, and sprung open, showering us in money. When I was feeling contemplative, I meditated on the value we gave to pieces of paper, and how little that mattered in our new world, but at that moment in particular, I was annoyed by the lack of visibility.
"Shit." Krista said, summarizing my thoughts. But no one came. I saw a dead man behind the counter, holding a small hand-gun, half of his face intact and the rest of him completely torn up. Though I'd gotten used to carnage, seeing other people completely destroyed tended to ruin being alone with my girlfriend.
"Hey," She took my hand. I looked away from her. "It's okay."
"No," I said, clearing my throat. "It's not. I should be used to it. I've shot people in the face. I killed Bill Murray. I shouldn't-"
"Yes, you should." She said fiercely. "Because you're still human. I wish, sometimes that I was more like you. When I see him-" She looked straight at the corpse. "-all I see is a body." We stood there in silence for a moment before beginning to take stock of the store. She tackled the makeup aisle- her one indulgence was eyeliner. My priorities lay with the medical supplies. While none of us, again, by sheer luck, had been bitten by zombies, one of my main rules was to be prepared for contingencies, and scrapes, bruises and cuts all had the potential for infection. I kept a careful supply of antibacterial ointment, bandages, gauze, and painkillers. Since the sisters had joined our little crusade, I added tampons to my list. Little Rock was too young, but Wichita was incredibly grateful.
Rule #3 of Having a Girlfriend in Zombieland: Keep track of her cycle. It's not creepy, it's practical.
We covered most of the store in fifteen minutes, but the 'Family Planning' section had already been picked over. This was disappointing, but also weird. Why is the section with condoms called 'Family Planning?' Our plan was not having a family. Krista sighed. "I guess we can walk down the street, see if there's anywhere else?" I nodded and we left the drug store, still on the lookout for the undead.
We wandered down the street for a half an hour, and the only zombies we saw were on the ground. We jumped over pools of blood like rain puddles, and looked around the streets of Portland.
"Wow," Krista summarized, nodding her head. "They were right about this city. It's weird." She was not wrong. There was a yarn store right next to a trendy boutique selling sweaters, and a calligraphy store, and a store that seemed to only sell accessories for kittens.
"Yeah." I concurred. We walked for another ten minutes, passing weird, niche-market store after store, until we reached one that was exactly what we were looking for, between a store that would embroider your name on anything, and a seedy diner. It was called 'The Ball and Chain' and the window itself was a sight. The neon sign was dark, but a mannequin wearing a leather bra and panties and holding a riding crop was perfectly visible. Krista turned toward me, and smiled, and we opened the door, entering with a clang of the bell on the knob.
The store was somewhere I wouldn't have entered if you had paid me before the civilized world had ended. It was a place I imagined to have been occupied by blue-haired, pierced and tattooed chicks, who I'd be simultaneously attracted to and afraid of.
We looked at the store like an odd museum, full of artifacts of a more frivolous era. There was a fine layer of dust over everything, dildos the size of cucumbers with five different moving parts, lacy bondage gear, handcuffs in every possible pattern, and, at the back of the store, barriers. Literally everything I had ever seen in health class, and a few items I couldn't identify.
Rule #4 of Having a Girlfriend in Zombieland: Let her take the lead.
Krista leaned forward, and analyzed the wall of contraception. She carefully selected a few different packages, and slid them into her pockets, before reaching for the condoms.
"Don't put those in a pocket." I said rapidly, interrupting her. She turned towards me, as if concerned that I had recently contracted turrets suddenly.
"Why?" She asked, patiently.
"Because temperature effects them, they won't work if they get warm." I said, quieter.
She gave me a little smile. "Smart." She grabbed a handful of condoms and gave them to me, letting me put them away in my carry-on. Then, she grabbed another from the wall and I pushed myself up onto the checkout counter and pulling down my pants. She ripped open the wrapper and plucked out the circle of latex.
Rule #5 of Having a Girlfriend in Zombieland: When you have an opportunity, go for it. We all know you live and then you die, and you get eaten, so make the most of alone time in deserted sex shops.
