Cross

Right, left, right, left. Stop.

Breathe in slowly, exale.

"Ok, Cross," she told herself, smacking her gum, "you're entering the danger zone." She brought her rifle up to her shoulder and entered the Super Walmart. She looked around noiselessly for any unwanted company, then proceeded, slowly, throughout the aisles, searching for anything edible.

Taking a hand off of her gun, she picked up various containers. To her dismay, they were all either mold-ridden or had already been consumed by previous visitors or rats. "Fuck." she cursed. She flung several containers off of the shelf in frustration and ran a hand through her hair, sighing.

She pointed her gun at the ceiling and sank down against the aisle behind her. Relaxation didn't last long, however. The front door flew open with a sudden bang. Cross' eyes darted toward the entrance, her lips parted barely. Her heartrate was soaring; her breathing was short, shallow, swift.

Should she steal a peek at the unknown stranger? She lifted her eyes up to the roof, her head against the shelf as she thought. She took a deep gulp, her Eve's Apple bobbing up and back down. She closed her eyelids, whispering silent prayers to herself. Then she opened her eyes again. But just as she was about to pop her head around the aisle, a man's voice rang out.

"I know you're in 'ere, darlin'! I don't want any trouble! I just hadn't had a piece 'o meat in weeks, ya' see. And if ya' come out now, I promise I'll kill ya' before I cook ya'."

Cross didn't reply.

"Come on, girlie! Let's see yer' pretty little face!"

Still, no answer. She knew better. Soundlessly, she set her rifle over her shoulder, got down on her stomach, and began crawling on her elbows around and through aisles. She sat up again against a shelf.

"Where the fuck are ya', you stupid little cunt!" the man yelled angrily.

Jeez, Cross thought, short-tempered much? She scanned the shelves around her for the object she was looking for, while running her tongue over her bottom lip. Her brows were creased with determination. Aha! She slowly stood up, her back hunched over so she would remain unseen.

She grabbed the item-a jar of peanut butter. She lifted it up and down, testing its weight. It'll do, she decided, and nodded in approval. She looked over the shelf. The man was facing the opposite direction. Good.

Her palms were sweating-hell, her whole body was sweating. She formed her mouth into an 'o' and breathed slowly, nodding quickly, assuring herself that she could do this. Her grip on the container tightened. She pulled her arm back, aimed, and lurched the jar towards the back of the store, right where the glass refrigerator was.

Smash! A direct hit. She smiled and patted herself on the back. The plan worked. The dumb fuck was running toward the scene of the crime. That was her cue. She reached behind her and grabbed the rifle, then began sprinting after the man.

She was only a few feet from him when she cocked the gun. He stopped dead in his tracks and spun around, his eyes wide with fear. "Shit." he said. Cross smirked. "You got that right, motherfucker." Then she squeezed the trigger.

The bullet pierced through the man's skull, blood spattering to the floor. Cross lifted the gun up and walked over to the fresh corpse, kneeling down beside him. With a free hand, she searched his pockets. Nothing but a few bills.

She shook her head disappointedly. "Yeah," she looked at the green papers in her palm, "a lotta good that'll do me in these times." She threw the money down and stood again, putting her gun to her shoulder in defense mode as she left the store.

Once she was out, she squinted her eyes in the scorching sunlight, then looked down at herself. There was a dark spot of blood on her right pant leg. She sighed and scratched her head, then popped her gum.

"Damn. That's gonna stain."