The Rise

Chapter 5

(Alice's POV)

I saw the buildings through the trees. Large concrete masses with boarded up windows and graffiti stood in rows. The town was small; the only street ran straight through. Crouching in the bushes, I peered around. A tiny flicker of hope burned in the back of my mind at the thought of finding other survivors, but as I listened and heard nothing, the hope disappeared. I slipped one of my throwing knives out of my thigh sheath, gripping it tight. I did one more scan of the area before cautiously stepping out from the thicket. The silence was unnerving. 

A thick, heavy wind made my throat dry and my eyes water. Gusts of sand whipped at my arms, legs and face. I jogged towards a 2010 Kia Forte, ducking behind it and checking my surroundings once again. The closest building was the shell station, with its boarded up windows and peeling paint. I considered pulling off the boards, but that would make too much noise. I noticed a large hole in the glass door, just big enough for me to squeeze through.

 I ran around the gas pumps and over to the door. I wedged through, trying not to cut myself on the sharp edges. It was dark inside the store. Racks had already been emptied and were now scattered all over the floor in pieces. "Shit." I cursed at myself. I started lifting up racks to see if anything had fell underneath. Luckily, I found two packs of beef jerky and a box of matches. After placing them in my bag, I went over to the fridges. The only food that remained was all dairy based and probably spoiled. There was nothing left here worth scoping for.

 I left the gas station and moved on to the next building. I had no idea what kind of store it was, the sign was gone. This time, the windows and doors were all boarded up and nailed. I trekked to the back where I found a second door that wasn't boarded up, but locked. There were no infects that I could see or hear, so I was willing to risk making some noise. Taking a few steps back, I ran forward and kick the door handle as hard as I could, but it didn't budge. I did it a second time and the lock gave away. Carefully, I stepped inside. 

The building was in the same condition as the first one. Racks were scattered and shelves were bare. Stands were empty and broken. Stepping over the debris, I made my way to the back room. Pushing back the ripped curtain, I stared in awe at the piles before me. Clothes. Jeans, sweats, jackets, shirts, shoes, most rotten from moisture but some worth sparring. I ruffled through some t-shirts and found one I deemed to be salvageable. I stripped down completely, not even giving it a second thought, and changed into the only pair of jeans that I could find in my size. I threw on the t-shirt and a grey hoodie I found, tossing my old clothes aside. I wouldn't need then anymore, they were filthy and just extra weight in my backpack. I found a pair of decent sneakers, so I put them on and chucked my old ones. It felt so good to be in new clothes.

 I left the clothing store and jumped through the window into the next building. It was the same as the last two, bare and trashed. Entering the bathroom of the store, I looked at myself through what was left of the mirror. I was taken aback. My eyes were hallowed and bloodshot from the lack of sleep. My collarbone was prominent and my hair was a tangled mess.  I tugged and tugged at my hair until I could manage a messy braid. It was good enough, and I was grateful to have it out of my face.  I turned to walk out of the bathroom, only to jump back in surprise. They had been quiet, I never heard them come in. In front of me stood an entire group of infects.