Chapter 7

Blue pre-dawn light flooded the second floor kitchen. Elliot opened the cupboard doors one by one and took stock of what they had. A few dozen cans, some bread about to go stale, a few boxes of granola bars, and enough water to last the three of them a month. They had eaten the perishables in the first week, and now, they were quickly depleting their long term supply. Plus, they were almost out of dog food. Sighing, Elliot made for her room, to prepare for the day ahead.

...

Nathon awoke the same way he had for the past couple of weeks- in a fair amount of terror. Most of the time it was simply the lingerings of a nightmare he hadn't quite forgotten yet, and he would quickly get over it. Today was slightly different. Today the fear was caused by a real force, and an image he knew would stick with him for the rest of the day. He opened his eyes to see Sarah towering over him in a faded grey suit jacket and red blouse. He didn't even have time to wonder where the hell she kept getting all these new outfits before she dropped the camera on his chest, knocking the breath out of him and scattering his not-quite-conscious thoughts. She had only ever done this on the morning Elliot had destroyed the stair case, so he knew something was going on.

She issued her now familiar "Get up." before striding out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Nathon sat up, wondering where the dogs had gone. They had spent every night in his room, but now they were no where to be seen. He grabbed his tattered brown jacket off of the edge of the bed and put it on over the greyish t-shirt he had been wearing for the past two weeks. He had fallen asleep in his jeans, so with a vague patting down of his hair, he grabbed the camera and left the room.

The house was as quiet. The moans that had so prominently been heard for the first two days of the outbreak had now dispersed, and although Nathon had no expectation of ever getting used to them, they were occurring more and more rarely. The hall was empty, but there was the occasional rustle of paper a few rooms down, in the dining room. Nathon walked quietly down the hall and peered into the room. He saw not Sarah's intimidating figure, but a red headed figure facing away from him, sitting at the table. Elliot was hunched over a note book, writing furiously, occasionally glancing at a leather bound journal lying open on the table. She was already dressed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved green shirt. Nathon made a movement to walk into the room, and Elliot heard him. She inconspicuously shut the journal and tucked it into her belt, before turning in her seat to Nathon.

"Oh, it's you." She brushed her hair out of her face. "Uhm." She glanced at the pad of paper she had been writing on. It's about time I went out for supplies. Our food won't last forever, and I think we'll be here for a while. The first wave of the reanimated seems to have passed, so now is an ideal time to go. There's a grocery store right down the street, and I'm just deciding what we need." She glanced at Nathon's not so cleanly clothes. "I could probably pick up a few shirts or something for you."

Elliot's attention suddenly focused at a point behind Nathon's right shoulder. "Good morning. I was just telling Nathon that I'm going to be going out for supplies today."

Nathon twitched as Sarah spoke from right behind him. "That sounds... exciting."

Elliot frowned. "I'm really hoping it won't be."

"Are you going to need any help? I'm sure Nathon and I could probably be of assistance in some way." Nathon's eyebrows involuntarily raised at this unexpected offer. Elliot had been busy doing something almost everyday for the past two weeks; moving food into safe storage, patrolling downstairs, which she reached with a knotted rope that she tied to the remaining banister. She had cleared the rubble of the staircase, and barricaded each window and door securely. Sarah watched all of this happen from the balcony looking down on the atrium, asking occasional questions while Nathon filmed the entire thing. She blatantly refused to offer any help whatsoever, completely ignoring Elliot's light implications that the sooner the work got done, the sooner they were even slightly safer.

Elliot also seemed a bit thrown off. "Well, sure, if you two are willing to risk it." Her face became more serious. "There's nothing I can do if one of you gets infected, but end it early if you'd like. I'm not jeopardizing my safety or anyone else's if I can help it. I'm not going to stop you from coming, because having you along means we can get more supplies. So, the choice is yours. I've got bikes, and guns, if you know how to use them. If not, you're better off with a crow bar." She stood up, grabbing her note pad. I'm going downstairs in ten minutes. You're going to want tighter, lighter clothing, if you have it. I'm just going to grab some weapons. Either of you want a gun?"

"I can use one." Sarah said. This did not surprise Nathon. Elliot turned to him, and he just shook his head.

"Right. Ten minutes. And, the camera is not a good idea." Elliot walked out of the room and to the third floor staircase. When Nathon turned around, Sarah had also disappeared.

Confused and now thoroughly frightened, he sagged against the door frame. "Oh, God."

...

When Elliot reached the gaping hole where the staircase used to be, she found Sarah and Nathon waiting for her. She had folded up the list and stuck it in her pocket, and carefully tucked the journal into a pillowcase on her bad. She had a small backpack strapped on, holding ammo and some emergency supplies. She had two small, silenced pistols. One was tucked into her belt, and the other she handed to Sarah with a hint of apprehension. Sarah simply took the gun and slid into her belt as well. She had changed out of her normal attire into a pair of dark pants and a purple tank top. Nathon stood awkwardly to the side, without his Elliot handed him a sleek metal crowbar, and reached down to drop the coiled rope to the ground. She gracefully slid down. Sarah looked at Nathon, which he took as his cue to descend next. He slowly climbed down, trying with difficulty not to drop his crowbar. When he finally dropped to the floor, Sarah leaped down, barely using the rope to slow her fall. She landed elegantly, then looked to Elliot for further direction.

Turning away from the front door, Elliot opened the door that lead to the garage. She flicked the lights on, revealing an enormous garage, housing a hybrid and five bicycles of varying styles. Each bike had a large basket on the back, and Elliot pulled off her backpack and reached inside to pull out two other folded up backpacks that she handed to Sarah and Nathon. Elliot grabbed a dark purple road bike. "Grab a bike, and we'll get on our way. Nathon, you stay between us, you can't really swing a crow bar and ride at the same time. Sarah, do you think you can shoot and pedal at the same time?"

"Without a doubt."

"Good." Elliot grabbed the remote from her backpack and opened the garage door, which cranked quietly up. The suburban lawns outside were deserted in the early morning light. The sun had not fully risen, and the eastern sky they were facing was a violent red. Elliot held up a hand, motioning for the two behind her to not move. She could hear faint shuffling.

She dismounted her bike, and with the assurance of someone who knows how to handle a gun, she looked outside the garage door and to the right, down the street. Sure enough, a zombie was coming their way from a few houses down. It was male, and middle aged, stiffly limping on crushed right foot. She took aim and without hesitation, shot it right between the eyes. It collapsed with a light thud. Elliot surveyed for any more attackers, but none were in sight. She went back to her back, keeping her gun in hand. "Let's go."

Elliot took off down the street, the opposite direction from where the single zombie had come. She steered the bike with her left hand, keeping her right arm poised to pull the rigger. She rode quickly, and could hear Nathon struggling to keep up behind her. The houses were all slightly out of their normally close to perfect order. Windows were broken, and doors were agape. Their were a few cars abandoned in the street, which Elliot avoided. The five blocks to the store took all of two minutes to ride, but it passed painstakingly slowly. At least six or seven reanimated emerged from the houses when they heard the trio pass by. Elliot would release her grip on the bike in order to turn around and take aim, shoot, then grab hold again quickly in order not to fall.

Finally, they reached the end of the neighborhood and the beginning of a street made up of small restaurants, a few department stores, and most importantly the large grocery store. Elliot turned into the parking lot, which was mostly empty. She pulled up and braked next to the main entry. Nathon, who appeared paler than usual, rode up behind her, almost running into her bike. Sarah came to a halt behind him. Elliot stepped in front of the automatic doors, and found with surprise they opened easily. She stepped inside cautiously. If the doors still worked, anything could have gotten in. Sarah walked close behind, seemingly sensing the same thing. Nathon stayed a few feet behind,unaware of the probable danger stalking in the aisles before them. Elliot waited for the automatic doors behind her to close before giving a short shout.

Almost immediately, three reanimated appeared from separate aisles. Elliot aimed and shot the first quickly, but as she pivoted to take aim again, Sarah shot for the second time. Elliot glanced at Sarah, somewhat impressed. She listened carefully for any other approaching hazards, but heard none. She lowered her weapon.

"Right. I'm going after a few cans and some other miscellaneous supplies. Nathon, go find some water and feel free to pick up any clothing you want. Sarah, pick up any perishables that are still good and you think will last the next week. Elliot went to the nearest register and grabbed a bunch of paper bags, handing some to each. Once you run out of space in your backpack, fill these up. Anything that won't fit in the baskets will go on the handle bars. Pick up anything that might be of use, but keep it down to five bags and your back pack. Get everything you can, but remember we can always come back later." Elliot put her gun in her belt and walked toward the canned goods aisle.

...

Nathon's hand still refused to quit shaking. His crowbar was kept under his arm, which was weighed down with several bags of bottled water. He had picked up a few packs of underwear, socks, and plain white t-shirts- all that he had found in the limited clothes aisle. The zombies had come out of nowhere, and Elliot and Sarah had both been immediately aware of their presence upon entering the store. Nathon had had no idea. Those two were prepared for everything, but Nathon was anything but ready. He knew the only reason he was still alive was Sarah, as much as he hated to admit it. Now, he was beginning to doubt that even she would be able to keep him alive for much longer. Not only did Elliot and Sarah both seem somehow trained for an event like this, but they had something Nathon had never really been able to achieve- confidence and a will to live.

He sighed, then almost screamed when realized he was a few inches away from stepping on one of the bodies Sarah had shot down. He inched carefully around it, and looked up to see Sarah glaring at him. He glanced down at the body on the floor, then turned around to continue picking up supplies.

...

Sarah was sorting through a stack of oranges that still looked okay to eat when she heard a small yelp. Her head jerked up to see Nathon cowering against a shelf of bread, away from the corpse on the floor. Sarah looked at him disapprovingly. He carefully escaped.

Sarah shook her head and turned back to her oranges. She had filled a couple of bags with bread and unspoiled vegetables. She walked around the produce section, the smell of rotting fruits drifting around. Sarah was listening intently for the sound of automatic doors. The slight sound of a tinkling bell was prominent in the silence.

Sarah tensed. She slowly turned her head to her left, toward the freezer section, then slowly walked in that direction. She turned down an aisle of fruit pops and ice cream sandwiches. At the end, a door had been left open, and a few tubs of vanilla ice cream had fallen on the floor, and was lying in a melted heap. Her eyes widened at the four legged creature lapping up the spilled mess. She quietly walked over to the grey fluff-ball of a cat, with mangled ears and a crooked tail.

When she was a few feet away, the cat looked up sharply, the bell on its collar quietly ringing. Sarah paused, then kneeled down. The cat tensed, ready to run, or pounce. Sarah just sat there, staring at the cat with a strange look in her eyes. She was trying hard to remember something, but it wouldn't come back. She made to stand up, but the cat stepped over the melted ice cream toward her. Sarah reached down and scratched the cat between the ears, and heard it purr. She picked it up, and looked at it carefully. She was just deciding whether or not it would tolerate being carried around in one of her grocery bags, when she heard hoarse shouting from the front of the store. She held the cat close and ran to the cash registers.

...

Elliot was scrounging through the medical supplies, grabbing band-aids, ice packs, and pain killers for the head aches that were all too imminent. She had filled two bags with canned food, and one bag of medical supplies. She could see the pharmacy up at the front of the store, and headed over. She pulled the list out of her pocket, glancing at the twelve different prescription medications she had written down. She came up to the counter, which was blocked with wire caging.

She pulled a small bobby pin from her hair, reached through the cage, and picked the lock securing it to the counter without much difficulty. She pushed the wire up, and slid over the counter. She landed on a sleeping figure, who did not remain asleep for much longer. Elliot gave out a sound of surprise as the man quickly jumped up, his eyes were wild, but not vacant like that of the people she had been shooting at for the majority of the morning. The man backed against the opposite wall of Elliot, his straggly brown hair covered much of his face.

Elliot pulled her gun from her belt, pointing it at him.

"Sir! Have you been bitten?"

"What the hell are you doing in my store?"

Elliot glanced at the name tag on the guy's stained shirt. It read "Richie"

"Richie, that's your name right? I'm Elliot. I live a few blocks down, and we just came here for some supplies. Have you been bitten?"

"No. You are not stealing from my store. Nobody is stealing from my store. They all tried to, but I stopped them." He was yelling now. The man reached into his pocket, pulling out a weapon of his own.

Elliot could tell the man was not in his right mind. She glanced around and could see that several pills were lying on the floor, along with discarded wrappings from snack cakes and bags of chips, and large bottles of soda. The man was ranting again, his gun now pointed at Elliot.

"They tried to steal, they tried. I stopped them. They tried to get rid of me, they almost did. But I stopped them."

He starting mumbling, and scratched a bandage over his right hand, the hand holding the gun. It was blood stained, and obviously fresh. Elliot scrutinized the man further, and saw that his eyes were blood shot, his nose was running, and his skin was pale. Perhaps they were symptoms of living alone inside a grocery store for two weeks, but it wasn't worth the risk. Elliot tensed her finger on the trigger, but the shot fired from behind her caused her to pull sooner than she had intended. The man dropped dead on the floor. Elliot whirled around to see Sarah tucking her gun into her belt.

"I had that covered, you know."

Nathon came running from the back of the store.

"What the hell was all that?"

"Just a crazy probably infected civilian. Taken care of. Are we ready to go now?"

Elliot nodded, than shook her head. "Just a minute." She grabbed all the medication she needed, leaning over Richie's body. When she had what she'd came for, she went over the counter and joined the other two. "Okay. Let's get home."

...

Nathon was tying down his cargo to the rack on his bike with the bungee cords Elliot had brought along. His new clothes were in his backpack, and he had some of the medical supplies Elliot had picked up in plastic bags hanging on the handle bars. The water was loaded up on the rack, stacked at least twice as tall as the actual basket. He had no idea how he was going to keep up with Elliot and Sarah on the ride back. Elliot was in front of him, securing the several dozen cans of food and boxes of medication to her road bike, and glancing behind him, he could see Sarah packing up her produce, with a single paper bag on the handle bars. He thought he saw it move, but blinked and noticed Sarah glaring at him with more fury than he thought possible, so he forgot all about it.

He turned back to Elliot, who was now staring across the parking lot.

"Oh crap." She whispered.

Sarah turned in the same direction and grimaced. Nathon turned, already afraid of what he would see. A large group of twenty or so zombies were coming their way, and quickly. Nathon groaned.

"Do you think we can bike faster than them?" Sarah asked.

"Not with all this cargo." The zombies were now only fifteen yards away. Nathon shrank back against the building, grabbing his crowbar tightly.

"Alrighty then." Elliot said, and aimed her gun.

Sarah and Elliot had most of the horde on the ground by the time they were in fighting distance, but several still lunged at them when they reached the store front. Elliot and Sarah were taking them out with forceful blows to the head with the butts of their pistols.

Nathon swung with force, but it glanced off of the female zombie's head. It dropped her to the ground, but she still grabbed his ankle. Nathon yelled and kicked, but she didn't let go. He felt teeth begin to dig into his flesh before a bullet went through the zombie's skull. He flailed and got his leg free, but not before both Sarah and Elliot saw the blood drip onto his sock. They stared at him, Elliot with sympathy, Sarah with anger. Elliot kept her gun in her hand.

"Oh shit, no. Please, please don't shoot me, it barely bit me, I can still walk, I'm fine, please don't shoot me." Nathon begged, but all his only hopes for survival did was back away to their bikes and ride off.

"Oh shit."

Nathon jumped on his bike and pedaled for his life after them, the searing in his leg forgotten.

"Please!" He screamed after them. "Don't leave me out here to die!" He saw Sarah look back over her shoulder at him, and the anger in her eyes almost made him slow down.

He continued to ride after them, but their loads were lighter and they'd had a head start. He saw them pull into Elliot's driveway, and the garage door was closed by the time he rode up. He banged hopelessly on the door, but simply heard Elliot yell back at him.

"Would you like for me to wait until you enter the coma phase before I shoot you? That'll be in about twelve hours."

"I feel fine!" He called back. He tried lifting the door, but it was locked down. He ran around the house, and came to the wall he had climbed over two weeks ago.

He climbed up it, jumped over, and ran to the door, this time without any dogs trying to rip him to pieces. He banged on the door and even rung the doorbell, but there was no reply. It was past noon, and ther wasn't a cloud in the sky, but the sun brought no warmth to the autumn chill.

Nathon turned around and fell against the door, sliding to the ground. He wrapped his jacket around him, and looked past the gate. There were no zombies in sight, but he had a feeling they would get there soon. He stood up and walked to a point in the yard where he could see the second floor windows. Sarah was looking down on him. He looked up at her, confused. He was the one that was going to die, not her. She just glared at him before closing the curtains and leaving him alone.