We drove around for a while as fast as we could, not wasting any time. We'd stop to refuel at the gas station before we left but Stewart, the gas-guy, seemed convinced there was next to nothing left. "That's not good," Andy had said when he heard. "We'll have to find somewhere else to get gas, or get years' worth of supplies on this run." That didn't sound like a likely option, so we vowed that whenever we drove past a gas-station, we'd fill up, but we didn't end up having much luck. Though we didn't pass many, they were inhabited by biters and we didn't want to take the risk, at least until we got guns.
"Are you sure guns are even a good idea?" I asked nervously as we were getting closer to home. "Aren't they going to attract more biters because they're so loud?"
"That's not the point, they're gonna be a last resort. If we get swarmed for example, we can't just beat them to death, we need something quick and easy. But guys, if there's ever just one of them, don't waste ammo." Drew said. "We need guns for protection, simple as that. And anyway, even if they do attract more biters, don't you think you'll feel safer with a gun in your hand?" He had a point, but I was still worried. I just told myself that we'd come all this way, so we may as well go and get them. They'd benefit us anyway, right? I'd always been so against guns, even before Michael joined the military. And the fact that he was shot made my fear - or hatred - even worse. But things were different now, as I was constantly reminded by the reanimated corpses trailing behind the car.
When it got to mid-afternoon we'd managed to find some form of superstore and we pulled into the parking lot, thinking it'd be easier to go now instead of later. It seemed practically deserted, which I guessed was a good thing, but it was hard to tell if anyone was inside the building. Andy and Drew had given me a shovel, though I wasn't sure I'd be any use with it. I was hoping I wouldn't have to kill anyone, but if I did, I was hoping they'd be old and decayed like the one that came into the gas-station earlier. Drew had killed that one pretty easily, but that might have just been him being strong. Sure I used to work out a few times a week, but that was to make sure I was a healthy weight, not a macho-fighting-gal. I didn't want to let the guys down but I was embarassed at how weak I was - hopefully they'd jump infront incase anything came at me. No, no, that's not fair to have them risk themselves for me. I was just hoping, wishing and praying nothing would happen.
"You okay?" Andy asked as he saw the concerned look on my face.
"I'll be alright. I hope." I gulped. I looked at the big building infront of me.
"It'll be good for us, getting whatever's in there. Let's just get it over with yeah? Then we just have to get the guns and pick up Stewart and we can be home." he reassured me. I smiled to myself, trying to convince myself that everything was going to be okay. After all, what were the odds to find Stewart alive still after I'd left? Not very high, and we were lucky. Who's to say we're not gonna be lucky again in a couple hours too?
Speaking of luck, the odds weren't exactly in our favour. The minute we walked through the doors, we were ambushed by four or five biters. Andy and Drew took 3 of them out and I was left with the other limping towards me. I squealed and kicked it in the shin, watching it collapse to the ground. "Now what?" I mouthed at Andy when I saw it was trying to get back up. I then remembered the shovel I was holding - now was the time to test my 'gardening' skills. I forced the end of the shovel down onto the biters neck once, twice, three times and sighed with relief as it's head detached. "Gross." I said, kicking it's still biting-jaw across the room. "Please, don't ever make me do that again."
"Gotta get some practise haha," Drew laughed. "Now let's be quick, grab what we want, hope there's no more biters and get outta here!"
We each grabbed a cart and ran down every aisle, pushing whatever was left on the near-bare shelves into them. It hadn't occured to me about expiration dates until now, but I guessed that we'd just eat whatever went off soonest first. I was running down the dairy aisle, grabbing cheeses and yoghurts and was suddenly stopped in my tracks by a biter, crouched down feasting on a body with it's back towards me. I grimaced as I realised I'd have to get rid of it sooner or later, and decided it'd be best to do it sooner. I began making my way towards it, shovel in hand, shopping cart immobile next to the fridge. It was making gruesome noises and it smelt awful, so I was more than happy to get rid of it. My shovel was brought down in a matter of seconds, decapatating the biter and pouring blood onto the floor. The biter was still, well, biting, and I was worried it could somehow still get around, so this time I brought my shovel down a second time and cracked its skull open.