Zombie survivor

[72] Search

The group trudged along the cracked and weathered highway, the midday sun bearing down on them mercilessly. The dry air clung to their skin, making every step heavier. Ms. Heather's condition had worsened—her face was pale, beads of sweat dripping down her temples despite the cool autumn breeze. Her injured leg was swollen, the splint doing little to ease her pain.

"Are you okay?" Jean asked, glancing at her with concern as Brad carried her on his back for this rotation.

"I'll be fine," Ms. Heather said weakly, though her voice lacked conviction. "Just a little sore..."

"She's not fine," Akira whispered to Jean, her dark eyes narrowing. "We need to find something for her."

Jean nodded, his expression grim.

Ahead of them, Morgan stopped abruptly, her sharp gaze fixed on the horizon. "Town up ahead," she said, pointing toward a cluster of buildings in the distance.

The group followed her line of sight, squinting against the sunlight. The town appeared desolate, with abandoned cars scattered along the outskirts and dilapidated buildings looming like skeletons against the sky. Most of the structures were gutted, windows shattered and roofs partially caved in.

"Looks abandoned," Jordan said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "That's good, right?"

"Unless it's full of squatters or zombies," Tyler muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Then it's not so good."

Morgan ignored their chatter and adjusted her pack. "We need medical supplies. She can't keep going like this." She motioned toward Ms. Heather. "We're heading in."

***

As they reached the edge of the town, the eerie stillness set everyone on edge. The streets were littered with debris—discarded clothing, empty cans, broken glass. The faint smell of decay hung in the air, a grim reminder of the chaos that had once consumed the place.

Chloe wrinkled her nose, stepping gingerly over a rusted bicycle lying in the middle of the road. "Ugh, this place is disgusting. Are we seriously going in there?"

"Unless you've got a better idea," Morgan said without looking back.

Chloe huffed but stayed quiet.

The group moved cautiously through the streets, their footsteps echoing faintly against the cracked pavement. They passed a burned-out gas station, the pumps blackened and twisted from an old explosion. A clothing store stood nearby, its windows smashed, the racks inside overturned and empty.

"Whole town's been picked clean," Brad muttered, his grip tightening on the straps of his bag.

"Maybe not everything," Blake said hopefully. "There could still be supplies in harder-to-reach places."

"Yeah, and there could be people waiting to jump us," Tyler added with a smirk. "Keep your eyes open, Blake. Don't want your feminist ass getting eaten first."

Blake glared at him. "Not the time, Tyler."

"Guys," Evan interrupted, pointing ahead. "Shoppers Drug Mart."

The pharmacy's faded red-and-white sign hung crookedly over the entrance, one corner dangling precariously. The large glass doors were shattered, shards littering the ground outside. The group approached cautiously, peering inside.

"Looks clear," Jean said, his voice low.

"Looks empty," Jordan muttered. "Bet it's already looted."

"Doesn't mean we don't check," Morgan said. "We need antibiotics, painkillers, and anything for infection. Move."

The group stepped inside, their shoes crunching on broken glass and debris. The air was stale, heavy with the smell of mildew and old medicine. Shelves stood bare or toppled, their contents long gone. A few scattered boxes and bottles lay on the floor, but most were empty.

"Damn it," Morgan muttered, scanning the ruined shelves.

Ms. Heather leaned heavily against the wall near the entrance, her breathing labored. Chloe stood nearby, her arms crossed. "This is a waste of time," Chloe said, kicking an empty bottle across the floor. "There's nothing here."

"Shut up, Chloe," Jean snapped, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. "We have to try."

"Everyone spread out," Morgan ordered. "Check everywhere."

***

The store's interior was dark, the windows grimy with dirt and grime, blocking most of the sunlight. The group fumbled around, their footsteps echoing against the tile floor.

"Shit, I can't see a thing," Brad muttered, holding up his hand in front of his face. "Anyone got a flashlight?"

"Nope," Blake said. "We didn't grab one before the RV blew."

"Perfect," Tyler said sarcastically. "Guess we're flying blind."

"Not necessarily," Evan said, pulling a matchbox from his pocket. He crouched down, grabbed a piece of broken shelving, and began wrapping a strip of fabric around one end.

"What are you doing?" Jordan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Making a torch," Evan said, striking a match. The fabric caught fire, casting a flickering light that danced across the walls. He held it up triumphantly, grinning. "Ta-da!"

"Okay, Bear Grylls," Chloe muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Good job, Evan," Akira said softly, giving him a small smile.

The group used the torch to navigate deeper into the store, splitting into pairs to cover more ground. The flickering light illuminated the aisles, revealing overturned shelves, spilled pill bottles, and discarded wrappers.

Jean and Akira sifted through the rubble in the pharmacy section, picking up bottles and checking the labels.

"Everything's either expired or empty," Jean muttered, tossing aside an empty box of painkillers.

"There has to be something left," Akira said, crouching to look under a shelf. She pulled out a dusty bottle and squinted at the label. "Antibiotics. They're expired, but..."

"Better than nothing," Jean said, taking the bottle and slipping it into his bag.

Blake and Jordan worked near the back, where the prescription counter stood. The drawers were pulled out and ransacked, their contents dumped on the floor.

"This is pointless," Jordan muttered, kicking a drawer. "Why would anyone leave the good stuff behind?"

"Because they wouldn't," Blake said, crouching to sift through the mess. "But we can't give up."

Jordan sighed and picked up a bottle of cough syrup. "This count as medicine?"

Blake glanced at it and shook his head. "Not what we need."

"Figures," Jordan muttered, tossing it aside.

Chloe and Brittney poked around the aisles near the entrance, staying close to the faint light streaming in through the broken windows.

"This is disgusting," Chloe said, wrinkling her nose as she picked up a dusty bandage. "Why are we even wasting our time?"

"Because Ms. H needs it," Brittney said, her tone sharp. "Not everything's about you, Chloe."

Chloe shot her a glare but didn't respond, continuing to half-heartedly dig through the rubble.

Morgan stayed near Ms. Heather, scanning the nearby shelves with practiced efficiency. She found a roll of gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, slipping them into her pack without a word.

Ms. Heather leaned against the wall, her face pale and her breathing shallow. "I-I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'm slowing everyone down."

Morgan glanced at her, her expression unreadable. "Don't apologize," she said gruffly. "Just stay alive."

Ms. Heather managed a weak smile. "I'll try."

Try huh... 

Jean muttered.

Q: How would you scavenge a store?