Wasteland

Tangled in the Great Escape

More irritable and grumpy than usual, Merida opted to sit in the passenger seat once again. She rested her head against the window, staring out forlornly. “Where are we?”

I jumped a little when she spoke. She hadn’t said anything all day except to tell me to shut up. “Uh. Almost in Kansas.”

“Alright. Let’s stop soon to get food.”

“But where? All of the other stores we swung by were almost picked clean.” I asked. I didn’t really want to stop by another store. There were undoubtedly hungry zombies who craved our brains. Already three times today we’ve been run out with them at our heels. And besides, I was still uncomfortable with killing zombies. They were once people and their blood would stain my hands just like an innocent person’s would. It still felt like murder.

“Look. There. A gas station in the middle of nowhere. Zombies tend to congregate in densely populated areas—more food— and it would take a lot of energy in the heat to travel here.” She said. It made sense but I still felt trepidatious.

“Okay…” I pulled in and killed the engine. The absence of the cars humming left us in complete silence.

“Ready?” She asked, pushing her bushy hair out of her eyes. We each took an empty backpack to fill.

“Sure thing.” I grabbed my gun and double checked that the knife was still hooked into my belt. The sliding door opened with a ding to announce our arrival. I could hear my breath rolling in and out of my lungs and the soft whistle of Merida’s breath. My sweaty hand gripped the gun tighter.

“Let’s spilt up. We each take an aisle and stuff as much into our bags as possible. Try for highly caloric and nutritious foods, not too much junk food.” She said, walking forward on bent knees like an army member.

“Might be difficult.” I responded as I surveyed the food in the first aisle. Chocolate bars, chewy candies, chips. I stilled slipped a couple of those in when Merida couldn’t see.

The store looked like it had already been hit. One of the racks had been toppled over and plastic shiny bags scattered out around it. Another pile of empty cartons lay in a pile by the checkout. I was in the middle of grabbing a water bottle when I heard a familiar whirr. I spun on my heel and raced to the window.

“Merida!” I yelled, breaking the glass-like hush with a bat. The calm subsequently shattered around us. Merida swung around the corner, her bow leveled to take out any hungry zombies. But there weren’t any. “Shit…”

I raced outside with her on my heels. Our dented and bloodied sports car was speeding away without us in it. I saw a flash of blonde hair and a red shirt that I’m pretty sure read Shell Gas. Both Merida and I ran down the street. But the distance between us and the car only stretched and stretched like a rubber band until it snapped.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Merida screamed, flipping off the small flashing dot on the horizon. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. FUCK!” She even shot a couple arrows after it. “The bitch! I didn’t even see her!”

I shrugged. “Maybe she was stuck in that gas station all by herself with no way to get out. She probably was just waiting for a getaway.” My mind flashed to the pile of empty containers. How long had she been stranded and terrified for her life?

“Yeah. Well she just stole our getaway,” Merida growled, leveling her murderous gaze on me. I put my hands out to ward her off in case she wanted to take her anger out. Luckily, she didn’t. I scanned the road. No cars for me to hotwire. When the zombies came, everyone must have made a hasty get away.