Warnings: Gore.
Chapter 2
A old man, a dog, and a boy
It was the loneliness that affects her the most, Elisha thinks to herself as she walks down the abandoned street.
She has gotten used to killing the Infected. She barely blinks when she sees a dead body rotting into the earth. She even manages to hold back the tears when she spots an Infected child.
But the silence seems to ring in her ears every time she bunkers down for the night in whatever fairly safe building she'd managed to break into.
There's no car engines, no TV's playing, no muffled conversations, or footsteps, or the sound of plumbing or neighbours banging; all sounds she'd gotten used to hearing in her old flat.
You're all alone, it feels like the silence is taunting.
Not that she needed reminding; the last person she had spoken to was Rick (her dreams about him didn't count) and that had to be a month or two ago now.
Elisha sighs heavily before glancing around. Houses surrounded her. Almost everyone of them had a broken window or door, either from the Infected's forced entry or people deciding to loot.
At the end of the road were local shops, which was where she was heading. She found that big town centres or large food stores were almost always empty, and a waste of time because in the beginning of the end, they were the first place people went to for food and supplies.
Whereas convenience stores and smaller shops often had something of value (and were a lot less dangerous), even if it was only a forgotten chocolate bar which had fallen behind the shelves, or an flat can of energy drink.
Elisha takes her time as she approaches the convenience store, making sure to drag her feet and give a small, out-of-tune whistle so any Infected would make themselves known at the sound before she entered the store. No way did she want to find herself trapped inside with no other exit.
No Infected had appeared by the time she reaches the shop. She glances up at the cheap, gold sign which was probably falling apart before the world went to shit. It was missing practically all the letters and the blue paint behind it was chipped and cracking.
She then turns her head to the left and notes that the shop next to it was a hairdressers. The shutters were down, and she could probably get them up if she really wanted to but she highly doubted there was anything of value inside.
On the pavement by the entrance was a large, brown smear. She recognises the colour as old blood, having washed it out of her clothes more times than she cares to count.
To the right side of the convenience store was some kind of betting shop which also had it's shutters down, the only difference being the several smeared, brown hand-prints which decorated the metal.
She guessed that someone, most likely the owner, had locked himself in the store and unless it had a back exit, they most likely never came out again. The bloody marks were probably where the Infected had heard, or smelt, the occupiers and attempted to enter the building until they were drawn off by something more interesting.
Just past the betting shop was a small park. The red, metal fences with gaps was rusted and a dead, male body stained with blood and dressed in torn clothes laid on the merry-go-round. It was a gruesome sight but she was thankful it wasn't a child.
Licking her dry lips, she turns back to the convenience store. Unlike the other two shops, the shutters were tucked away above the window, allowing her to assess to the glass. It was dirty, so dirty she couldn't see into the shop itself.
So she spat onto the sleeve of her black jacket before using the area of damp material to try and wipe away some of the grime. She didn't really want to get dirty but she knew it was a small price to pay in order to see what she was about to walk into.
When she manages to make a small, clean spot, she attempts to peer inside. The shop was dark and dim thanks to the dirty glass blocking most of the light from outside, and it probably didn't help that the sun was hiding behind black threatening clouds, but she was able to see enough to know that it wasn't crowded by Infected and the four, waist-height shelves had a few items on them. It was all she needed to know.
Subconsciously, she bites the corner of her bottom lip as she steps away from the large window and approaches the glass door which stood next to it. Elisha reaches her hand out and flattens her palm against the large sticker, next to the handle, which she can just about tell says 'Push'.
Placing a small amount of weight onto the door, it eventually gives way, much to her surprise and luck. Nothing ever seemed so easy any more.
The thick morbid smell of rotten flesh hit her senses instantly and she quickly pulled the collar of her once-white-now-questionable, long-sleeved shirt over her nose with a grimace. It was a stench she knew, and came across daily, but accumulating in the space of the small shop for who knows how long, it was so strong she could almost taste it.
At least it told her that there was a body or Infected within the store.
Her shirt offers little help in filtering the stench but she uses the fingers on her left hand to keep it pressed against her nose anyway. Her right hand goes to the back of her Jeans where she keeps her weapon and pulls it out.
The hammer is heavy in her grasp, heavier than the long piece of metal she used to have before Rick forgot (or maybe he did it on purpose) to give it back to her. She hadn't realised that he'd walked away with it before it was too late, leaving her no option but to head back to the closest location she knew of which had a weapon.
And unluckily for the passed out drunk guy who thought she'd stole his tinned peas, it just so happened to be his hammer. She tried not to feel guilty about leaving him pretty much defenceless so she told herself it was probably for the best anyway; someone as unstable as him shouldn't have anything he could use to harm someone (living) with, like he'd tried to do her.
Elisha's fingers grip the handle firmly as she steps into the shop and lets the door fall closed behind her with a small click.
There are four shelves in front of her just a bit higher than her waist. Now that she was standing closer, she can see that the items left behind are a mixture of energy drinks and chocolate bars. Perfect for keeping her alert.
Although she would only use the energy drinks when she really needed to. While they were great at keeping her awake when she needed to be, the crash which followed wasn't exactly... ideal.
She reluctantly removes her hand from her nose so she can grab her bag off of her back and tuck the hammer into the back of her pants. The movement causes the fabric from her shirt to slid back down into place and the smell seemed thicker in her nostrils now that it wasn't filtered by the material. Apparently it had been helping more than she'd thought.
Taking a deep breath, she tries not to gag at the morbid scent before holding her breath and shoving the items she found into her bag. Once she was finished, a small box of tissues and something bulky which looks like a huge bag of pasta catches her eye on the shelf two rows ahead of her, the one closest and opposite the register
Her eyes brighten up at the thought of having tissues even if it was only a box. Yes! For the next week at the least she wouldn't have to wipe her ass on leafs, or when she'd grown really desperate, old clothes(whoever said the apocalypse was glamorous?).
And not only tissues, but pasta too! Carbohydrates and protein! She couldn't wait to mix it with the tin of beans she had in her bag. It would be her first decent meal in what felt like forever.
With her mouth watering, she practically danced towards the isle but as soon as she turned the corner and had a clear view of the floor between the two shelves, she stepped back with a sharp gasp.
What used to be a man but was now a decaying corpse laid slumped against the floor with his back against the shelf. Blood soaked his grey, balding head where she spotted an obvious, large gun wound which had left a gaping hole. On the floor in front of him was a shotgun. It became clear to her that he'd killed himself.
But that wasn't what upset her; it may sound cold but she'd long detached herself from the feeling of distress whenever she passed a dead body. It was an everyday thing now. Like walking past a lamp post.
But since this whole thing had started, she hadn't come across any dead animals, so she hadn't grown immune to seeing them in such a state like she had with humans. Which was exactly why her guts felt as if they were trying to crawl out of her throat as she gazed upon the dead mess of blood and brown fur on the floor next to the man.
She thinks it looks like a dog but the disaster which was once it's head made it hard to tell. She guesses that the man took his pet's life before taking his own.
With the mixture of colours in it's fur, and the size of it as it half-laid on it's owners lap, it was a German Shepherd. The poor thing reminded her of her own dog which had gotten lost in the beginning and she found herself attempting to hold back the tears.
"I'm sorry," she felt the need to say. Both of them were old, she could tell from the grey within both of their hairs, and the owner had more than likely done it out of mercy for them both.
The world was such a cruel place.
As much as she wants to leave this place and let them rest in peace, she really needed the items on the shelf which lay on the top of the display. Instead of disrespecting their bodies and attempting to climb over them to get to the objects, she decides to head around the shelf and grab it from the other side.
Her legs feel a lot more weaker than they did when she first entered the shop and she tries her hardest to stop the shaking of her hands. The pasta barely fits in her bag but she forces it in until her fingers hurt with the strain. To save room, she chucks away the box and shoves the tissues into a small pocket on the side of her bag.
The new weight in her bag is heavier than she's used to and she hopes that it won't cause her any back pain. Elisha really didn't need that showing her down if she needed to make a run for it.
She keeps her eyes on the ground as she passes the bodies once again and heads for the door. Her fingers lightly grip the sliver handle as she examines the shop one last time, just in case she managed to miss anything but all she can see are magazines, cigarettes and travel shaving kits.
She pondered for a moment whether or not she should grab one. Shaving had been the last thing on her mind and her legs, armpits, and lady garden were currently so hairy that she'd forgotten she was even a lady.
At least it had added extra warmth for the winter though.
Her fingers tap against the handle before she finally gives in and makes her decision. It wouldn't hurt, so why not? She could tell it was getting hotter and hotter so maybe she'd even find a nice pair of shorts to wear. Make herself feel more normal and feminine.
So she heads over to the tall shelves which stood against the right wall and picked one up. It came in a small blue bag and was obviously for men but that didn't matter to her. She rips off the price tag and lets it drop to the floor as she finally heads out of the shop.
Elisha doesn't really pay attention to her surroundings as she unzips the bag in an attempt to examine the contents. That was her first mistake.
She parts the blue material of the bag and spots a rechargeable battery next to a electric shaver. She hopes that it already has charge in it or she might as well as throw it away. The only way to charge it would be with portable charger which she can just about see underneath the items but she didn't even know how to start a car let alone drive, so that was that completely unhelpful to her.
"Don't move," demands a boyish voice behind her, soon followed by the sound of a gun being cocked next to her ear.
Elisha froze, her heart jumping into her throat. She suddenly regrets going back for the damn shaver. If she had never picked it up, she wouldn't of distracted herself, and now she was being held at gun point thanks to the girly part of her which longed for smooth legs again.
"...Crap," she breaths.
"Put that down and turn around. Now," he orders her and she can't help but frown when she hears him speak again. Just how old is this kid? It doesn't even sound as if he's voice has broken yet.
"It's okay, kid, I'm not gonna hurt you with my shaver," she attempts to joke as she slowly leans down and places the bag on the floor.
"Shut up," he snarls, "Now turn around."
She does as she's told and turns to face the kid who managed to sneak up on her while she was distracted with her new toy. As soon as she has a clear view of him, her eyes widen in shock, "My god."
Elisha wasn't expecting that.
