Slow Dancing- Troy Otto

2

  Scarlett slept in the same clothes she wore, being used to staying on guard in case she needed to run from being alone with the dead for so long. A creak in the old wooden floor of her cabin alerts her, waking her up from her light slumber. She grips her machete tight, opening her eyes and holding it out to the intruder as she sits up.

"Woah! Chill out it's just me!" Mike squeaks.

"What are you doing, how did you get in?" Scarlett questions angrily.

"I- I wanted to say I was sorry... a couple of the guys and me wanted to take you out of the ranch for initiation." He says nervously with his hands up in surrender.

"In the middle of the night?" She says confused.

"Yeah... it's fun I promise, just- let me make it up to you." He says glancing anywhere but her.

"Okay... let me put on my shoes." Scarlett says carefully.

  She pulls on her sneakers, grabbing her machete then following him to a hole cut in the fence at the far left side of the ranch. Once they drive far enough away from the ranch Mike speaks up.

"This is Stanley, and Nathan, part of Troy's militia with me." He says and she looks at the men behind her as they fail to meet her gaze as well. Her stomach churns feeling that something is off but tries to shake it off wanting to fit in.

  They arrive an hour later at a gas station just by the border and hop out, warily Scarlett followed them to the back door.

"So what's the—" Scarlett is cut off by rough hands grabbing her as Mike swings the door open, throwing her into the small building and barricading it shut. "Mike?" Scarlett calls out fear crawling up her throat.

"You ain't my sister, and you won't be coming back to the ranch." He calls out.

  Hungry growls sound throughout the building causing Scarlett to turn around slowly, the smell of rotting flesh becoming clear, noticing the dozens of ferocious cannibals staring at her like she's dinner. Scarlett pulls out her machete as she hears the laughter of the men outside followed by the truck starting up. This thankfully catches the attention of the dead, drawing them to the front of the building to scrape the glass with their bloody hands and torn fingernails.

  Scarlett spends the night fighting for her right to live, avoiding gaping jaws and yellow teeth, the sound of snarls and the shuffle of feet making her body quake with anxiety. The sickening squelch of metal thrusting through bone echoing around her repeatedly, the groans of the monsters left behind to ravage the earth pushing her fight or flight to the front of her mind. Survival is the only thing she needs to think about right now. Covered in the stench of rotting blood and guts and dripping head to toe in the substances Scarlett drops to her knees sobbing. Now she knows how 'welcomed' she really was. The ptsd of the broken world she'd traveled in haunt her relentlessly as she remembers some of the lives she had to take getting out of a similar situation a month ago. A small group of men offered her help and protection if she put out, declining the offer only made them that much more hungry for a taste of her skin. Scarlett grimaces as the echo of their screams binds her back to her past, the tearing of their flesh as she watched a horde feast on the bodies of her rapists, staying to see the life leave their miserable eyes. Only she was the cause that time, not the victim, Mike was her karma.

  Pulling herself out of her self pity she storms out of the gas station finding a new emotion within her.. rage. Treading back to the ranch, finding the same hole they snuck out of, sneaking back in, in broad daylight. It had to have been late morning by the time she'd arrived, searching for Mike as the people around her eyed her disheveled state. Covered head to toe in blood, holding a machete so tight her knuckles turned white, finding Mike laughing with the same men as before. She stops over to them, watching as their eyes widen at the sight of her return.