The Risks

May: Chapter 9

A/N: A heads up that we have a trigger warning for sexual assault in this chapter. And no, it has nothing to do with the photo above.

"Keep an eye out," Parker warned as we walked up the road.

He'd been talking about a superstore in the middle of town for the past few days, so after some planing and after a quick detour in a nearby suburb, we'd check out the superstore.

I gave him a nod and we walked up to the first house.

The interior was simple, but designed with expensive décor. It's funny how people will spend their life focused on their riches, but when chaos strikes none of it means anything. Everything they had spent their lives working for was for nothing. I walked into the house with my back against a wall. My feet crackled on broken glass, making me jump. Parker smiled in my direction and I rolled my eyes at him, suppressing a smile of my own. I let Parker search the kitchen for food while I searched the bathroom for necessities that I was running low on. Deodorant, to be specific.

The search through the next few houses went as smoothly as the first and I was beginning to feel confident that we would find enough to last us longer than I had originally thought. We could be living easy by tonight.

We came across a house near the end that was boarded up. Parker glanced at me -promising, but also not- and we made our way to the door. He burst through the door and began to search the downstairs while I went upstairs. I walked past a girl's room and went in. The walls were painted a light pink and the dresser was covered with photos and papers. I sat on the bed and looked at the pile of books on the nightstand. I picked one up, curiously. It was a journal. I flipped through the pages and looked at the dates -all from before the virus's outbreak. I thought about what I was doing on these dates. Then I flipped further into the book and my eyebrows knitted together. The writing was sloppy, written with a bad utensil. The dates read just a few weeks ago. I turned to the last entry and read the child's writing.

April 23rd

Daddy said we had to go. He said that it was dangeros to stay. He said the bad people were going to try to get in. He said we have to get redy so we can go tomaro. I don't want to go.

I tucked the journal into my bag and sat up straight. I pressed my fingers on my eyes and rubbed them hard as I thought. Maybe this girl and her father were still alive somewhere. A hint of hope bubbled in my chest. Maybe if we were lucky we would find them. There had to be people out there who were still normal, still human, as Parker had put it.

I heard footsteps in the hallway and I stood up, picking up my bag. "Hey, you have to see this journal I fou-"

"Hello there." The man grinned and his teeth were black by the gums.

My hand darted to my gun which I had set back into my holster, but the man jumped at me. He grabbed my hand twisted it up. I tried to stretch my left hand around to my pistol. The angle was awkward and my fingertips only fumbled along the leather. Grunting against my struggle, he spun me around and slammed me face first into the pink wall. My head spun and I felt blood trickle from my nose. I tried kicking backwards hoping I would hit a shin or knee, but the rancid smelling man had me pinned too tightly.

Time to try this again. I threw my head back and it collided with his. He stumbled back, letting me go. Painful, but not as debilitating as last time. I pulled out my pistol with a mildly spinning head and shot at him. The bullet burrowed itself into his shoulder, but he kept coming at me. I cursed and I pulled the trigger again. I felt the pistol jam in my hands.

This could not be happening.

I hadn't had this problem before and didn't know how to fix it, so I tucked my jammed weapon back into my holster and I reached for my pocket knife, but he was on me again before I could get my hand in my pocket. He tackled me and we both fell to the floor. He straddled me, pinning my arms beneath his dirt stained knees.