Zombos

Chapter 6: We pick up a hobo

Hi everyone! I've been so very tired for the past weeks with exams and everything, and soon I'll be leaving for vacation (yippee!) so I'll try my best to update one more time before this. Again, any comments, votes, or constructive criticsm are welcome!

x Charlie

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My arms were tired. So were my shoulders. I was tired from running and shooting and being scared. Heck, I was tired of being scared. It all seemed so surreal. Sometimes, I'm so into it, like I'm gaming or something. But as soon as it's all over - my mom, the farm, the baby, the people just now - I'm at a loss again. I feel like...like...a fish floundering around in the ocean. I have no idea if what happened is even real. Nor do I know what will happen. Just that I will have to learn to reload guns properly.

Sage and I made our way to the restaurant on the corner, the one with the dark green awning. It looked all posh with curtained windows, heavy wooden double doors with brass handles, and a fancy name plate.

"If we're going to have food, we should have good food." Sage said to me. "We deserve it."

I shrugged in response. "I guess."

I felt so numb and hollow so I just leaned against the door and let my weight push it open. Immediately, the dank, putrid atmosphere of the room made my stomach turn. My aching arms felt like lead but I kept a tight grip on my hand gun.

The restaurant was big. It was also littered with table cloths and broken dishes and wine glasses on the floor. Utensils glittered around the room. And food. An overpowering scent - the foulest smell I've ever smelled - accompanied the blemished interior of the restaurant. Clumps of half-finished dinners colored the room. Steak, potatoes, puddles of emulsified soups - ugh. I glanced at Sage. She had her nose pinched and her lips were pressed into a grimace.

"Let's get out of here?" I choked. She hesitated.

"Wait, let me check the kitchen. Come." It wasn't a question.

I followed her to the back, and as we entered through the swinging doors, I couldn't help but think that she was scared. I should have been, too, but my head was too muddled at that point. The kitchen was dark, and Sage's boots clicked on the tiles as she felt her way along the wall for the light switch.

Click.

The lights above us flickered to life, but all I could think of was that the kitchen looked dead. Hm, how ironic. Huge fridges and numerous ovens lined the back walls. We were surrounded by silver countertops, food half prepared. It smelled even worse. Suddenly, I heard a slight shuffling sound. I looked around. Nothing.

"Do you hear that?" I asked.

"Hear what?"

We both stood still and concentrated.

"There. Again."

"No-" Sage paused. "Oh. What do you suppose that is?"

"I don't know." I said uneasily. It sounded almost like - scurrying? I shook the thoughts from my mind and changed the topic. "Let's check the pantry."

"Yeah." She agreed, running her hand through her hair. "Good idea."

A huge door to the side was left slightly open. I walked up to it - half boldly, half not really thinking - and pushed it back open a little. The kitchen lights poured into the small, narrow room. For the second time that day, I screamed.

Rats. Rats.

A body on the floor.

A body, with the telltale signs of infection. Bloodied fingers. Bloodied mouth, open wide, a rodent's tail poking out, fat tongue pushed to the side of the bloodied mouth. Empty eye sockets, lids peeling back.