Stop The Clocks Now

Chapter-16

Felicity's POV

                                 My body was becoming a virus. Eat. Throw up. Eat. Throw up. I knew I shouldn't throw up because it's not safe for the baby. But after my binge sessions,  they're to much to bare. I was hungry all the time, and yet also sick. The thought of food was both pleasurable and deceiving yet disgusting. People say a baby is a miracle of life, then why am I regretting it? It's not just the timing. But everything else. If we weren't in a zombie apocalypse then Devin would leave. Or at least that was my fear...

Dom's POV 

                         It was a relief to see Woody's country store down the road. That meant that my aunt's house wasn't far, and I prayed someone was there. Shooting a zombie in the middle of its head, like a dart board. Eli and I continued our journey and jogged the rest of the way to the store. It felt like part of the dream I've been wanting for weeks now. Eli reloaded his gun and I kicked open the glass door. With a small creek, it opened. Eli kept moving around the aisles with caution as I stocked our backpack full of goodies. Grabbing soups, canned fruits and veggies, bags of chips and pretzels, candies, juice and Gatorade. Back in the day this would be shop lifting but now, it was a way of living. A choice to life or die. The cashier laid completely dead across the front counter. An old dollar bill laid between his fingers, covered in blood. I couldn't help but notice a solid, broad ring on his left hand, he was married. Maybe it was a good marriage. Maybe it wasn't, maybe this was a relief. To finally be away, and gone from a nightmare he could've lived forever. Eli tampered with a radio behind the desk, as I took a few more minutes to search the store. For any few other things we could use, or eat.

                        We stayed in a house across the street. It had zombies in it but not as many as we've seen before. I took an empty room upstairs by the bathroom. While Eli took one downstairs, trailed off from the living room.

                       I crept along the old room. Rubbing my finger across the old dresser frames. A metallic smell filled my nostrils as I lifted the sheets off the bed. A woman laid alone, dead. Her arms were handcuffed to the frame of the bed. Her tight outfit allowed me to see the outline of her breasts, hips, and thighs. Someone had already killed her, a bullet through her head. Her head that was starring towards something on the nightstand next to her. I strolled my way over and picked up the small diamonded ring.

                     My heart clenched as I tossed the ring into the dresser drawer like an old sock. I broke off the woman's handcuffs, wrapped her in the blanket and gently put her in the closet. It felt awful to do it, almost like a crime. After realizing I got her blood on my skin, I got in the shower. Surprisingly in turned on, but cold, like always. I got in and scrubbed my skin until it hurt. No more blood. No more guilt.