Stop 'n Go | T H R E E
ALYSSA
REECE WAS RIGHT. The Stop 'n Go was completely vacant. No customers, no employees. Unease settled itself in my stomach as Reece pushed open the glass door and I tightened my hold on the book-bag thrown over my shoulder. A bell chimed overhead. "The sign says they're open."
"And the government said zombies didn't exist," I retorted.
Reece shrugged. "The government says a lot of things. Doesn't mean they're all true."
He didn't hesitate to head directly towards the front desk and made himself at home behind the register. I blanched. "What the hell are you doing?"
He crouched down behind the counter and came back up with two plastic bags. "We need something to put the snacks in, unless you were planning on wrapping it all up in your shirt."
I wanted to make a comment about how this was still considered stealing, but kept my mouth shut. If this really was the beginning of the zombie apocalypse, stealing wouldn't matter. Neither would money or laws anymore. The whole world would change in the blink of an eye, and the rest of humanity that managed to survive would be forced into compliance.
I grabbed a bag and started stuffing it with whatever relatively healthy food I could find: jerky, juices, water, crackers, canned foods and the like. There wasn't much to choose from besides that and junk food, and although the irresponsible part of me realized this was the perfect opportunity to gorge on unhealthy snacks, I learned from the best how to plan for an emergency. A rundown gas station wasn't ideal for survival food, but it was a start.
"Do you hear that?"
I rose up to stand on my toes and peaked over the isle at Reece. "Hear what?"
I rocked back on my heels whenever a crash sounded behind the door labeled Employees Only. Reece came around the isle and we shared a look before he answered with, "That." Hesitantly, I pulled my backpack off my back and grabbed my army knife from the front zipper. Reece shot me a strange look. "Don't you think it would be more beneficial to keep it on your person? You know, in case of an actual emergency?"
I glared. "I'm sorry, I didn't have time to think about it while packing and running from my feral mother." I threw the bag back over my shoulder. "Let's just get out of here."
"Hang on." He stalked carefully toward the source of the noise and craned his neck to see through the window. He jumped back as the door rattled with another bang. "Shit!"
"What?"
"Found the missing employee. He turned into one of those—those things." He took quick steps toward the store's exit and pushed the door open. "Let's get out of here." He didn't have to tell me twice. I grabbed a couple more waters, stuffed them in my bag, and followed him outside. "What's the plan?"
I turned my head to look at Reece. "What do you mean?"
"Eventually we're going to run out of gas," he pointed out, "and by that point, every other fear-crazed person out there will have stolen the last canisters and drained the last of the gas tanks at stations. Your boyfriend's car isn't going to last us long without it, not to mention we're going to need somewhere to stay."
"He's not my boyfriend."
Reece waved me off. "Whatever."
"So you want to know what our plan is," I repeated after a moment, then clarified, "Where we're staying when we run out of gas."
I didn't have an answer to give him. I didn't even know if he'd still be with us whenever we did find somewhere to stay. Sam had family out in Arizona, but that was a ways away and we'd definitely run out of gas long before we made it there. Plus, his family could have evacuated by then if we're not the only state to have an all out zombie outbreak. Entry would involve breaking a window, and that wouldn't leave us very safe from the outside world, but I didn't have any other ideas.
Sam was already behind the wheel with a full tank of gas by the time we made it to the car. I climbed in without a word and watched Reece jump in the back. He didn't question my sudden silence and I was grateful for it. Focusing on one thing at a time was a lot easier than thinking ahead and actually accepting the situation we were stuck in.
"We should probably head to an automotive store and stock up on gas and oil," Reece finally suggested.
Sam looked up from his phone with a dazed expression. "Huh? Oh, right. Gas and oil."
I followed his gaze down to his screen and swallowed the lump in my throat. He'd been researching the current dilemma, and by the looks of it, this zombie epidemic was happening globally. "It's everywhere," I said. Reece leaned in between the seats to see what we were looking at. A bead of sweat slid down the side of his face and we swiped it away with a shaky hand.
"Hey, are you okay?" Sam asked. "You don't look so good."
"I'm fine." He waved him off. "What's going on out there?"
"It started in Romania," Sam answered. "At least, that's what they're guessing."
"Romania?" My eyebrows dipped and I momentarily shoved aside my suspicions toward Reece. "How did it get here?"
Sam squinted at the screen. "By plane. A few passengers noticed a panicked woman boarding the plane in Romania. It took six people to take her down, and five of them caught the infection themselves."
"What happened to them?" I asked.
"They all turned. Hospital security took them down when the plane landed, but several passengers fled the scene before the CDC could set up a quarantine. I guess that's how the virus made it here."
Five out of six people died. That meant one survived. "What about the sixth person? You said they didn't turn, right?"
Sam scrolled through the article with a hopeful look before his shoulders sank. "He's dead. His body rejected the infection and his—his organs shut down within four hours of being infected."
My stomach sank. There was no surviving this. If you catch the infection, you either turn, or you die a horrible death.
I was surprised to hear Reece's voice. It was quiet, cautious. He was obviously dreading the answer to his question. "How long ago did this happen? When did the infected woman board the plane from Romania?"
"I hoped you wouldn't ask that," said Sam. He pressed the power button on his phone and the screen turned black. "It took three weeks for the infection to board the plane and spread to the U.S."
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Dystopia
ActionDystopia [disˈtōpēə] verb 1. an imagined place or state in which everything is unpleasant or bad, typically a totalitarian or environmentally degraded one. Alyssa. Hotheaded, good in a crisis, and falling for somebody she shouldn't be. Reece. Charm...