"Please tell me you remembered to grab a can opener," Melissa grumbled.
They had stopped for lunch by a group of large boulders; Melissa was currently shrugging off her backpack, while Punk was already sitting on one of the sun-warmed rocks, sifting through his backpack.
"Better. I brought two," Punk said with a smirk.
Melissa rolled her eyes as she sat down next to him. "You're silly."
Punk pretended to look offended. "Do you want lunch or not?" he said teasingly, waving the can opener in front of her face.
Melissa grabbed at it, but Punk leaned back, effectively putting the opener out of Melissa's reach. "Your arm reach is longer than mine. It's not even fair."
"Who said I was fair?" Punk teased. He tossed her the can opener, which she barely managed to catch. "Don't hurt yourself."
"I'll try," Melissa laughed. "No guarantees." She leaned back on the rock for a moment, staring up at the cloudless blue sky. "It's a nice day." It felt odd to say it; she hadn't said it for a long time, even though the weather had been nice before, but the amicable hiking across the fields with Punk felt nice, especially since they hadn't seen any zombies at all. It almost felt normal.
Punk looked thoughtful. "I suppose it is." He snatched the can opener out of Melissa's hands, muttering that if she wasn't going to use it she should give it back. He searched around in his backpack, dragging out a can of pineapple. "You want to share and save the food?" he asked.
Melissa sat up with a sigh. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. Now what the heck am I supposed to eat it with? I don't fancy putting my fingers into a can that has jagged edges. Last thing we need is sliced fingers."
Punk dug through his backpack again, pulling out two metal sporks.
Melissa eyed the pack suspiciously. "What is that, Mary Poppins' bag?"
"I'm the best in the world at packing," Punk said as he started opening the can.
"Obviously," Melissa said with a laugh.
After eating lunch, the two stayed on the rocks for a little longer before starting south again. The sun was now past its zenith, and was slowly sinking towards the horizon, though it wouldn't be dark for quite a while yet; Melissa would venture that it was about one or two in the afternoon.
They hiked for a few hours more, before stopping near the large ditch that they had jumped over last night. Melissa was surprised that it had taken them so long to get back. She figured that the fact that they hadn't run all day had something to do with it. She shivered, the fear from last night returning to her for a moment. She hastily looked around, trying to see if there were any zombies nearby. She found it extremely odd that she hadn't seen any all day, especially since the field had been swarmed with them the night before. Maybe they're all back at David's camp, she thought. She hoped again that the Shield had made it out safely.
They ate a quick dinner, wanting to get across the ditch before the sun set. After finishing up, Punk flung their backpacks across the gap, knowing Melissa wouldn't make it with the weight on her back; she'd hardly made it last night. The cans in the bags rattled loudly as they landed. Punk was about to jump when they heard something moving in the copse of trees behind them.
"What was that?" Melissa whispered. She prayed for a wild pig, a skunk, a deer, anything, anything but a zombie.
She didn't get her wish. A zombie stumbled out of the trees, quickly followed by another, and another. Punk didn't stop to count. He leaped across, and then motioned for Melissa to follow. She took a running leap, jumping across. She didn't get the distance she needed, though. She screamed as Punk's fingers passed through her own as he tried to catch her. She fell to the bottom, and while it was no Grand Canyon, it had to be a good seven or eight feet deep. Her legs buckled as she hit the sandy bottom. She saw Punk standing at the top, and saw a look of fear cross his face. "What is it?" she called up as she hurriedly searched for a way back up out of the gorge, or at least a spot where Punk could help lift her out.
"There are zombies on this side too…" she heard him say. He looked down at her, indecision painted clearly on his face. It lingered a moment and then passed.
Melissa watched incredulously as he disappeared from sight. She heard him pick up his backpack, the cans rattling. "Punk!" she screamed.
Randy Orton's words suddenly came back to her, chilling her to the bone. I want you to be careful around Punk. Call it a gut feeling, survival instinct. He's only in it for himself. If it comes down to you or him, he'll pick himself without even hesitating. Well, he had hesitated, but only for a moment. He'd left her to die without as much as a goodbye.
She wanted to scream out in frustration again, but didn't, knowing that it would just attract the zombies. And she knew that they would have no reservations about falling straight down in here with her.
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, a zombie came tumbling down from the side she had jumped from. She hoped desperately that the ones on the other side would be occupied with Punk. The zombie stumbled up to its feet, and Melissa quickly pulled out the knife from the sheath on her side. She was silently grateful that she hadn't been carrying them in her backpack, because otherwise she'd be completely defenseless. She balanced the knife in her hand before she quickly darted forward, burying the knife in the zombie's head. She yanked it out as it fell down, lifeless. As it did so, two zombies fell down into the gorge.
"It's okay, just like Call of Duty," she muttered to herself. "Past round one, onto round two." She tried to control her hysterical laughter. She wondered for a moment if she was going to die. At this point it seemed likely; she was stuck down in a very deep ditch with no apparent way out, and the zombies were likely going to keep falling in.
She dashed forward again, instinct helping guide the knife straight to the skull of one of the zombies. Luckily they were a good distance apart, so she didn't have to worry about the other biting her. After she yanked the knife out, she ducked behind a rock. It seemed like the second zombie hadn't seen her yet. She heard the moaning coming closer. She peeked out from behind the rock, almost screaming in fear as she realized it was directly next to her. She swung wildly, the blade missing its mark for the first time. It cut through the stringy hair of the dead woman in front of her. The zombie lunged forward and Melissa stumbled backwards, a squeak of pain leaving her despite her wishes as she landed on her wrist wrong. She fought back against the sharp pain, scrambling to her feet. She didn't think it was broken, and luckily it wasn't her dominant hand.
The zombie had come rushing forward, barreling after Melissa. Melissa swung again, and this time did not miss. She buried the knife hilt-deep in the zombie's head, yanking it out with a nasty squelch as the body sagged towards the ground.
Melissa sank down to the ground, pressing up against the rock again. Her breathing was labored, and she tried to slow it, wondering if a zombie could hear it.
As another two zombies fell in, she decided she should stop thinking, because every time she did, it seemed like more zombies decided to join her down at the bottom of the gorge.
Melissa looked down at the knife in her hand, the blade glowing red in the light of the setting sun. She wondered if it could hold up much longer; it wasn't designed to stab zombies in the head, after all. Ignoring the two zombies for a moment, Melissa looked up to see the zombies at the top of the gorge getting restless; it probably wasn't going to be long before more ended up down with her.
Melissa was about to go deal with the two currently moving around a few yards away from her. She silently crept forward, seeing that she had the stealth advantage, if nothing else.
Hearing a thud, she looked back behind her, seeing another two zombies hitting the floor of the gorge. The numbers were quickly piling up against her. She sunk down to sit between two rocks, where she hoped neither set of zombies would be able to see her. She held the knife in her hands, trying to figure out the best strategy for getting the numbers back down. Peeking out again, she saw more zombies falling in. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Melissa wanted to scream, but she whispered it to herself instead. There was no way she was going to survive with just knifing the zombies. She glanced down at the pistol she had holstered at her side. She sheathed the knife and slowly removed the gun from the holster. She held it in shaking hands, trying to think back to the way her father had checked them; he'd been a police officer, so he had handled a pistol quite a bit. She wished in hindsight that she'd taken him up on at least one of the offers to go to the shooting range. She struggled to remember, but managed to find the safety and set it to off. It would be a serious mistake to try and shoot a zombie with the safety on. It was probably a serious mistake to use the gun, but Melissa knew it wouldn't be long before she would be found and killed anyway. "Might as well go out guns blazing," she muttered. She gazed down at the gun; she wasn't sure what model or type of gun it was, so she had no idea how many times it would fire before it ran out. And even if she did, she didn't know if David had used the gun at all; knowing her luck the damn thing was empty and as she peeked out from behind the rocks, she realized she didn't have time to check. The zombies had apparently heard her loud breathing and were now rushing towards her hiding place.
Melissa peeked out from behind the rock again, trying to recall her father's advice about shooting. She prayed that she wouldn't miss, and pulled the trigger.