Curls (10K fanfic) Z Nation

Chapter One: Breathe

I managed the last puff of my now (officially) empty asthma inhaler, the remnants of my long past worn out boots scuttling along the bloodstained tile flooring as I pushed my way through the breakroom doors. Here I was, a seventeen year old girl sneaking around inside an abandoned pharmacy in search of an inhaler and, if I was lucky, maybe some painkillers.

Down to the last bullet in my revolver, I huffed while holstering the now practically useless weapon. I always kept a bullet left inside no matter how much I needed it. Why? Because some day I'm going to run out of luck. And there's no way in hell one bullet can kill more than two Z's without a lucky shot- but it sure as hell can put some sorry sap out of their misery. Hopefully not me, but it was never out of the question.

My hands worked hastily to push a large shelf in front of the door, securing myself from the drug-addicted cannibals that scratched and growled outside. "What the fuck do I do now?" I cursed myself for locking myself in a room with one exit. There was no way that the makeshift barricade I'd manufactured would hold for long, but the chances of me going down without a fight were the about the same.

"Come on, Dory. Think." I scolded myself. "You've made it through worse. You've come too damn far to give up now!" And just as the words escaped my chapped and dehydrated lips, the time I had to think up a plan and execute it best I could diminished greatly. The adderal Z's had supercharged their way through and were stumbling over one another to gnash at me.

I grasped my big brother's hunting knife tighter and tighter until my knuckles whitened with stress. I could feel the adrenaline rush coming on, the only noise audible (or at least registered by my brain at the time) being the pumping of blood through my head. Think, Dory! For the love of God and all things not-so-holy, think!

I would not just let it end here. No, the bright eyed seventeen year old I used to view myself as was full of too much potential and hardheadedness to die in such a manner. Killed in a beefed up pharmacy in a poor attempt to retrieve another rescue inhaler. And by what? Well, none other than a group of super speed ADHZ's. The legacy I had yet to make would not be silenced by these antics.

And then, in the midst of my panic-filled calamity, I realized the last thing to do was think. I always over analyzed things, a weakness long kept harbored in my mind. It was a dark place that overworked itself and never seemed to stop- much like the world we were living in now. But sometimes, things just happen. One after another with little consequence to be had. And that's how the world went on. And that's how I had to be to survive.

The peaceful epiphany was short lived as a zombie made its way into the breakroom. I cursed and raised my arm, bringing down the hunting knife, dull in its multitude of uses, and puncturing the beast's rotten eye. It dropped in an instant, but by the time I'd managed to take care of the one, four more had made it inside, another eight or so still pushing through. "All I want is my goddamn inhaler! Why can't you bastards lay off for five minutes? Just enough for me to, I don't know, breathe?" I groaned with agitation as I used all of my strength to push one of the Z's back into the other three that had lined up behind it.

Taking advantage of the Z's being down, I managed to stab the first one in the forehead, stepping in its chest to pin the others down. My actions followed suit of the first homocide, but the shelf was now practically pushed to the middle of the room. Zombies poured in, seeming to have multiplied in the minute and a half I'd taken to kill the others. I bolted to my right in a very much failed attempt to escape through the doors, but a tall Z stood in between me and the exit. I reached up and stabbed it just as his meaty fingers grasped at the bright red curls that bounced tightly on my head. He collapsed, leaving a bit more dirt and grime in the once downy hair.