Zombie survivor

[13] Deadly sales

The inside of the Walmart was bedlam. Under the dim, flickering light of the backup generators, people scrambled through the aisles, grabbing anything they could carry. Shouts echoed through the store as shoppers fought over cans, boxes, and supplies. The shelves were half-empty already, and the sound of breaking glass and crashing displays made the air feel tense and dangerous.

Jean and Akira kept their heads down as they wove through the crowd, heading straight for the daily necessities aisle. Jean glanced over his shoulder every few seconds, instinctively keeping an eye out for any threat.

"Stick close, Akira," he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.

Akira nodded, her eyes wide with a strange intensity as she followed him closely, never letting him get more than a few steps ahead. They arrived at the aisle, grabbing essentials as quickly as they could. Jean stuffed rolls of toilet paper, soap, toothpaste, and other basics into his bag, keeping his movements swift but steady.

Akira, meanwhile, was meticulously picking up her own items, including a few boxes of tampons and other personal hygiene products. She shot Jean a small smile as she tucked them into her bag. "A girl has to be prepared, right?"

Jean forced a smile, his mind more on the supplies than small talk. "Yeah. Let's just get what we need and get out of here."

Just as he reached for a pack of batteries on a nearby shelf, a large man with a shaved head and a scruffy beard stepped up beside him, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the batteries.

"Hey, those are mine," the man growled, reaching for them just as Jean's fingers closed around the pack.

Jean tightened his grip, not willing to give up that easily. "We grabbed it first, man. There's plenty of other stuff. Just find something else."

The man didn't listen. He lunged forward, grabbing Jean's arm and shoving him back. Jean staggered, clutching the batteries as he struggled to keep his balance, but the man was stronger, his grip like a vise as he tried to wrest the pack from Jean's hand.

"Back off, kid!" the man snarled, his face inches from Jean's as he pulled harder.

Suddenly, a flash of metal flew by, and the man let out an ear-piercing scream. Jean stumbled back, his heart pounding as he took in the sight: one of Akira's scissors was embedded in the man's eye, blood streaming down his face as he clutched at the handle, his other hand dropping the batteries.

"Ahh! My eye! You crazy bitch!" the man screamed, stumbling back as he tried to dislodge the scissors, his face contorted in agony.

Jean stared, shocked, as Akira stepped up beside him, her expression calm but with a dark glint in her eyes. "No one hurts my darling," she said, her voice low and cold, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Jean's mouth went dry, the reality of the situation hitting him. "Akira... what the hell?"

She looked at him, her gaze softening, as if the violence she'd just committed was nothing but a minor inconvenience. "I told you, Jean. I'll protect you. No one is allowed to lay a hand on you."

Jean shook his head, snapping himself out of his daze. "Okay, look, we don't have time for this. Just grab what we need, and let's get out of here. Now."

Akira nodded, giving one last disdainful glance at the man, who was still writhing in pain. She tugged her scissors out of his eye with a swift, brutal motion, wiping the blood off on her sleeve before slipping them back into her pocket. Then she turned back to Jean, her expression brightening as if nothing had happened.

"Let's go, darling," she said, slipping her hand into his as they hurried down the aisle toward the exit, leaving the chaos behind.

***