The Rift

Chapter Thirty-Five: Aftermath

Hey y'all. It's been a while since I last updated and I deeply apologize for my absence. High school has just been an absolute pain in the ass and that leaves hardly any time for me to write anymore. Anyway, here's a new long chapter to make up for it. Hope you like it

ELSEWHERE...

(Maya POV)

Silence.

Silence is the only thing that I can hear.

It's extremely eerie if I'm being honest, but at the same time it's almost peaceful. Not a single sound, not even a breeze but it's still cold and cloudy. I sit down on the concrete of an empty WalMart parking lot against the side of a military patrol vehicle. I already checked for any supplies inside the empty shell, but it's already been looted.

I puff on one of my last cigarettes, taking a hit of the addictive substance and then blowing out the smoke through my lips. Sure, it could kill me but we're all gonna die sooner or later.

My brown colored rucksack lay beside me, and inside of it is where I put my gas mask. I wear it mainly for protection, but also because I don't like showing my face to strangers. It's just something about the current state of the world that really affects running into someone. You don't know if they're a real threat or not until you have a six-inch blade lodged in your chest.

I've been on my own for a long time now. I was with some people in the beginning, but that's a story for another time.

I finish my cigarette and flick it onto the concrete, putting the small pack in the breast pocket of my dark colored combat suit. It must be designed for men because it's way too baggy for me. The suit is designed like military armor with lots of pockets, great for the apocalypse. I slowly climb to my feet, stretching my arms and neck. I pick up my rucksack and swing it on.

I begin my way across the empty parking lot over to the front of the huge Walmart, its exterior walls and iconic logo faded from long exposure to sunlight. I reach the entrance, pushing open the glass doors that used to open automatically for you. The darkness of the once prosperous supermarket is not at all welcoming. I swing off my rucksack, lifting the large flap of the bag and digging around until I get a hold of a large flashlight. I switch it on and aim it into the darkness, lighting a path for me. I look around at all the empty checkout lanes, the magazines sitting it in racks now growing extremely dusty.

I don't miss the old days of supermarkets at all. The aisles packed with shoppers (during the holidays especially), screaming children, rude and sometimes extremely perky employees, and not to mention the fucking ridiculous prices on some items. Ten dollars for a bottle of shampoo. Ten.

Anyway, enough with the nostalgia, I need to focus.

I walk past the grocery section of the Walmart, the tall shelves bare from looters during the early days of the outbreak.

I then head down one of the home section aisles, walking past a row of assorted mirrors. I stop and stare into one of them, running a hand through my short wavy hair. I like to keep my hair short, it's just always been that way. I lean closer towards the mirror and wipe a smudge of dirt off of my chin. God, I miss showers.

I continue on my path through the store, carefully stepping over fallen dressers and tables. At the end of the aisle, I hear the sound of glass crashing against the floor somewhere nearby. I react quickly and yank the hatchet from the side pocket of my rucksack. It's not that big, but it gets the job done. I walk slowly through the dark walkway with the flashlight in one hand and the bladed weapon in the other.

From around the corner of one aisle, a slackjaw emerges. The rotting skinny female woozily walks out of the aisle and doesn't notice me at first, but then it spots my flashlight. She growls, then begins to shuffle towards me. She wears a long black dress, spotted with dried blood and possibly vomit. The slackjaw gnarls her teeth as she steps closer to me, then I raise the hatchet and swing it into the side of its head. The thick blade sinks into the slackjaw's skull, causing blood to spill out from the wound as the undead being goes limp.