My head is just pounding. Jeez…what the hell happened?
I was face down on the cold, rigid floor of the gas station store. Who the hell did this? Stupid asshole better hope he's far from here.
I groaned and rolled over to my back, neither position was comfortable, but I wanted to stay lying down for a couple more moments. Just a little bit so I could have some peace and quiet, at least.
I sat up and frantically searched for my gun in the dim light that bled into the convenience store, was there a clock around here? I patted my surroundings desperately; it couldn't have been that far from here.
My head ached just from moving, so I slowly stood up, but stumbled around a bit. I almost lost my footing, but the counter with the cash register saved me.
Leaning on the counter, I reached in my pocket for my phone. No service, not too surprised by that, and just my luck, it was dying.
It's 4:22 AM. Well at least it's not night time anymore.
I rubbed my head some more, I guess I wasn't alone when I thought I was. How naïve of me, how could I be so stupid? I swear if I find that son of a bitch…
I wandered to search for my gun, It wasn't near me, or around the store either, which frustrated me more and I came to the unfortunate conclusion that some motherfucker took it.
I was desperate enough to go check the cash register, nope nothing, just some twenties and change. Should I even take the cash? Does it even hold value anymore? Screw it, I'll pocket it anyways, you never know.
Where are the damn lights in this place?
I stumbled around some more, angry that I couldn't find my gun and even more annoyed that there weren't that many useful items in here. I can't really expect much though; it's just some run down convenience store in the middle of nowhere.
I made my way to the front door so I could get the hell out of there, and I noticed something funny. Well, actually a couple of funny things.
The first thing was that my things were right next to the entrance of the door.
The second thing was that the door was locked, and the keys were hung by the door.
That's nice, that asshole had the decency to lock me in here and leave my stuff in here. Y'know, since they didn't feel bad about knocking me out and leaving me here, but they would have felt bad for taking my things.
I know I'm not going to like what I see when I open this door, I'm not stupid. I know my car is gone. I know that someone took my gun and my ride. Just fucking great.
The only upside to the whole shitty situation was that I had keys to lock the place up and there were some supplies in here I could put to some use.
So I finally decided to look in my bags to see what was in there, I don't even remember packing them. For the past couple of days, I'd just been taking advantage of the supplies here. Why go through my own supply when I'm surrounded by food?
I crawled over to my bag and unzipped the largest section of it, turning it over to dump out all of its contents over the floor. I didn't care that it made noise; nothing and no one stumbled upon this place yet so I don't give a fuck.
Let's see:
Phone.
Food.
Cigarettes? Do I even smoke? I guess I do now.
Other miscellaneous items…I kept digging through the contents of the bag until I reached the bottom and found a note which was addressed to my name. Okay…that's a bit weird. I thought I packed my own bag, but I guess I'm wrong.
I unfolded the neat little piece of paper and squinted to read the small, delicate handwriting.
Something about someone being sorry and how this 'Jane' will miss me.
Who the hell is Jane?
I haven't been able to sleep the past couple of days.I keep having these dreams – no nightmares, of me going through absolute hell. I know what my brain is trying to tell me, or well, remind me. When I got knocked upside the head it must've messed up my memories.
I'm well aware that these memories exist, it's just putting the pieces together is what's so damn hard. Another thing is the pain I'm waking up with every night or morning, this killer pain that shoots up my forearm and the feeling of guilt that settles in the pit of my stomach afterwards. I can't explain it, my dreams can't explain it. I've checked my arm several times as well and there's nothing anomalous about it. There's a faded bite mark that resembles more of a dog bite than anything, probably from me being a stupid reckless child, and even if it were something else it's not in any of my dreams.
It's starting to freak me the fuck out.
No sleep, no surprise.
Another dream.
Yesterday, I used these nightmares to my advantage; I started writing down what had been happening so that it could help me piece the puzzle together. Everything just felt so fuzzy to me.
But first, I'm going to eat. I dragged myself out of my corner I'd set up and made my way to the stack of food, let's see…chips, cereal, candy, beef jerky, other canned food. I would go for the canned food, but those need to be saved for another time.
I grabbed the box of cereal, it wasn't anything special, just one of those generic corn flake brands that I needed to get rid of before they spoiled.
I ripped the bag open and dug my hands open to scoop some of the dried flakes. I know, I know, this needs some milk, but the generator died so the milk is most likely spoiled and I really don't want to find out anyways.
Once I finished my sad excuse of a breakfast, I got back to checking my notes on some random notepad I'd found in my bag. I flipped through the pages several times, it seems that I have enough so far to piece this mystery together once and for all.
The first page talks about being attacked…but when it comes to me it's just blank. It's like I wasn't even there, my dream was just this person getting attacked by this walker. The second page is about being locked in a room with someone who's infected but there was nothing about getting out. I don't even remember how I got out of that room; in my dream it's just me being stuck with this girl. This girl I kept seeing in my dreams…
The third and fourth pages are about me escaping the house for some reason, I mean I know it was probably because I was in danger but reading it makes my stomach sink.
Why isn't anything coming back to me? Why can't I remember anything? Who is this girl who keeps barging into my dreams? Who keeps writing notes to me? Why is she in my head?
Out of frustration, I threw the notepad across the store. This was a waste of my time.
I'm so pissed off right now. But I'm going to stay seated on the floor because I know if I got up right now I would probably break something on my head. Maybe that would help me remember.
My head started to ring from the migraine that was coming on, that's super. Just what I needed!
I clutched my forehead with both my hands, hoping that the strong grip would make the pain go away, make all my problems go away.
The more I concentrated, the more that came back.
I was now finally able to put (at least most) of the story together, some parts were blank, which I assumed to be the most traumatizing memories (that I'll probably keep having dreams of). I don't even know how I made it this far, to be honest.
When I woke up from getting knocked unconscious, it was funny that I didn't remember the past couple of weeks but I remembered my memories from when I was younger and a lot of memories from when I was in basic training. Just these series of incidents were the hardest to recall, and I could assume that it was from losing Jane that my brain locked away most of my story.
My heart ached at these memories I could recall, and now I kind of wish that I hadn't remembered them, but it really does beat having the nightmares each night and not knowing what they mean.
There were still some unanswered questions though…in my dreams there's always another face there, but a blank one, someone I couldn't remember. An example was that one morning waking up and hearing someone being eaten downstairs, but not knowing who it was or why they mattered.
It was another mystery that would be solved another day I suppose. All that mattered now was that I remembered my other half, Jane.
It's pretty early right now, and in the span of about five minutes or so, I've decided to leave this place. I know what you're thinking, it's pretty fucking stupid to make a decision like that in a couple of minutes. But something just doesn't feel right, and I made it clear earlier that I was bound to leave at some point, and that point just happens to be today.
I feel like I've been here long enough, I've used enough supplies and I need to leave some in case some other band of survivors stumble upon this place, well, actually I'd call it a safehouse. Yeah, that sounds better.
I pulled the flimsy blanket off of me and stretched on the floor to work the ache out of my muscles. I need to exercise more.
I emptied the contents of my bag once more to check that everything that needed to be there was there. I packed some other things from the store in there, and I laughed at how happy I was when I found razors the second day. It may have been the end of the world, but I still wanted to have clean shaven legs.
I replaced the expired cans in my bag with the other ones in the store, but also made sure to throw away the expired ones, of course. I grabbed several bottles of water from the shelves and threw them in my bag. I pretty much had everything I needed.
Wait.
I need a map.
At the front of the store near the door (the one place I avoided the most) there was a tourist rack with all kinds of maps of the area, among other souvenirs. Who the hell wants to be reminded of their time spent in Georgia?
I quietly tip-toed near the door, since it was basically a window to inside the convenient store and even though I knew there weren't any walkers around that didn't mean I could make a big ruckus, and grabbed several maps, whichever were in hands reach.
I grabbed about four or so, one was solely of Atlanta, the other was of the state of Georgia, and the other two were just of the country. It was good enough.
What else should I grab before leaving?
I thought to myself, I suppose I could leave a note to any other survivors.
The pen kept slipping out of my hand, as if I didn't know how to write.
But I had to do it, I know if I were going to some safehouse I'd want to know if it was worth my time staying or not.
The generator died, but there's still water around. There's some food left. I left the keys to lock the door under the mat.
Good luck
I put on my backpack, which felt a little heavy since I haven't carried it in two weeks, and grabbed the keys on the counter by the door. I peeked outside quickly to assess any potential problems.
Coast was clear, so I jammed the key in the door and unlocked it.
I was nearly blinded by the sunlight from being locked inside all day. The heat nearly killed me as well, but it was nice finally being outside. I turned around to tape the note to the door, hoping that any potential wind wouldn't carry it away, and placed the keys under the mat, just as I had promised in the note.
Goodbye, random convenience store. I hope to never see you again.
My legs ache. And I hate bitching, but my legs hurt. I should've exercised more while I was holed up in that place.
I really need to find someone or some weapon and fast, because when it starts getting dark, I am so fucked. I guess the only good thing is that I hadn't encountered many walkers, but that was because I didn't make much progress so I was still in the outskirts of Atlanta.
I eyed the signs on the road carefully as I passed them, keeping note of anything that could be useful.
This had to be a sign from God, it just had to be, it was a sign for a police station up the road ahead.
Now, if I were really lucky, the place would be abandoned. And if God hated me, then the place would be surrounded by walkers.
I'll take the chance.
Maps are really good at hiding valuable information, such as the fact that a police station is in the middle of a city. A small city, but still a city. With people. And by people, I mean walkers.
I needed to keep my cool. I could see a few of them wandering around mindlessly in the streets, and they couldn't see me. If I can make a mad dash to the back door, I'll be fine.
I would count the number of walkers, but that'll only freak me out. It doesn't matter how many there are, what matters is that I get to that back door that was basically calling my name.
I tightened the straps on my backpack to keep it closer and stretched my legs some more. The last thing I want is to get a cramp.
After stretching, I crouched and made a mad dash across the street to a parked car. Oh God, if you're hearing me, please let there be no car alarm.
I peeked over and eyed the walkers some more, they continued to wander aimlessly. Good.
The door was now only fifteen or so feet away, and if I make one more run I'll make it.
I tightened the straps again, just in case, and could feel my thighs burning from crouching, but I ignored it. I stood up slowly and ran as fast as my legs could take me to the door.
When I reached the back door, I could feel my heart beating in my ears and gripped the door handle, making sure not to make any noise. It would really suck if I got this far, only for a walker to notice me.
I held my breath as I twisted the handle down slowly, and heard it click, it was unlocked! I opened the door slowly and closed it the same way.
I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief and start doing backflips out of joy, but I needed to keep it together in case there were any walkers in here.
Before taking any more steps though, I turned to lock the door behind me.
Hallelujah.
The armory couldn't be too far from here, and from the looks of the place, it looked abandoned.
I stood in the same place for several minutes to listen for anything.
Nothing.
No sounds.
Absolute silence.
I was alone.
I read the signs in the hallway that showed a map of the station, the armory was only down the hallway and around a corner. Awesome.
I walked my tired legs to the armory, only to find it locked. Sweet Jesus are you kidding me?
I mean it makes sense, but how in the hell am I supposed to unlock this? Fuck my life.
I kneeled down to examine the lock further, but my hands froze as I felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed to the back of my head.
