C5

I felt entirely ridiculous. The bike was too large for me (a recurring problem it seemed) but the bar was low due to it being a girl's bike which meant it wasn't impossible to get on. I rode standing, butt halfway between the seat and the handlebars. My only solace was that the man on the seat behind me probably felt even more silly. Or maybe not. Avoiding becoming zombie-feed made everything else fade into the background.

I worried a bit during the escape from the parking lot, bike wavering from side to side due to the slow velocity and passenger, but after a hundred feet we had a rhythm going. A good thing, since if I had to call out every time we were going to change directions we'd never lose the zombies.

A couple hundred yards later a copse of trees blocked us from sight from the majority of our rotting followers. I felt safe enough to break silence for a moment as we reached the highway. "So, left or right?"

"Left."

We continued for a time. We passed burned out vehicles, broken signposts, the occasional zombie on the shoulder. Thankfully the latter rarely noticed we were there in the dim moonlight until we were already past them. My passenger gripped my shoulder a bit firmer when we passed them but was otherwise cool-nerved. A useful trait for the apocalypse. Less useful was his horrid weight. This body's endurance wasn't entirely terrible but the added weight was not something it was prepared for. "How much further?" I asked.

"Two miles… Two and a quarter with the driveway."

"Got any water in that bag?" It was a struggle not to wheeze.

"No."

'This… isn't going to work.' If I was fresh I might manage even carrying him, but the only reason I was staying upright now was the cool night air. "Is your leg good enough to pedal you think?"

"Maybe."

Why was it that I was the one out of breath and he was the one giving monosyllabic answers? I clicked up to a higher gear, slowing our progress but easing the strain on my heart. "Well, either we can trade off, or you can give me that bag and I'll do my best to make it there on my own. But I don't," I paused for air, "have enough energy to get us both there."

He didn't say anything for awhile, wheels buzzing into the dark. "There should still be water bottles left out about a half mile ahead. Can you make it that far?" I nodded to conserve my breath. "Good, my ankle should be rested enough by then."

"We left them out for you," he said. "In case you came back. I… I thought you were dead."

I didn't reply. Didn't entirely know how to and this wasn't the best environment for talking about body snatching, death and resurrection. It felt like an eternity before we came upon a blockade of ruined cars. I slowed the bike to a stop. I had no wish to try and ride through those narrow passageways. My passenger appeared to agree as he dismounted and prompted me to do the same.

"Stay quiet," he whispered, as if I didn't know. I ventured cautiously ahead as he followed using the bike as a crutch. I heard his footsteps and stopped in turn. I realized why a moment later, noting a number of bottle and can-shaped objects on the hood of a car. "Stay here. I'll be back as soon as I can with the others. Just keep the car doors locked and stay down, the walkers won't even know you're here."

I wanted to argue with him. I'd been the one to pedal the bike thus far, it hardly seemed fair that he should just take posession of it. I didn't though. Not only did I steal his truck, the bottles of water left me better off than when I'd started even if he never came back for me. Besides, even if he had a limp he was still a hell of lot bigger than me. "Go, quickly," I said. He glanced back once before riding off into the night.

The light breeze whisked at my body heat, but it was far from hypothermia inducing. I kept my eyes and ears open as I examined the goods. It was too dark to read the labels but the jar of peanut butter was recognizable nonetheless. Beyond that there were three bottles of water (full), two cans of something or other, and some type of juice. For non-consumables there was a blanket and a flashlight (zombie-bait?).

I sipped at one water bottle greedily, too thirsty to care about the plastic aftertaste from however long it had been in the sun. I finished off the first and wanted to start the second but I forced myself to stop. My brief companion might not ever come back and I needed to conserve water for that scenario. At least now I had something to carry more with if I found a stream.

The car was a tempting haven but I could smell too much death in this place. How many others had id in their cars here and eventually died? No, the car was far too similar to the confines of a grave for my comfort.

Coming to a decision I hid the cans, the juice, and the empty bottle underneath the car for safekeeping. The peanut butter and full water bottles I tucked inside the blanket and took with me. The ground sloped steeply into the trees as I made my way with weary feet. I felt a strange sense of deja vu as I entered the dark confines of the woods but ignored it, intent on keeping my senses sharp rather than drifting into daydreams.

The tree I found wasn't perfect. It was nowhere near as large as the last and the zombies might have a touch more luck climbing it but it was the most my tired limbs could manage to climb. I placed my items in crooks of the tree as I climbed before I settled in on the highest limb I dared, some twenty feet above the ground. Wrapping the blanket half around me like I cloak I assumed a position on the branch that would likely be uncomfortable for a man and braced myself for a long wait.