You're Hoping For A Taste

Kellin stands leaning against the front of the car, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, his hood up. A strand of dark hair has escaped his hood and is fluttering in the breeze, and I want to slide down from my perch on the roof and brush it aside. But I don't.

We're doing a stake out of Walmart. At first I felt a bit twitchy, seeing movement everywhere, when in fact there was nothing there. Now I'm just bored. There's no life here at all. The store is relatively intact, except for the gaping hole out front where the windows have been smashed in. A few abandoned cars litter the car park, but that's it.

“I think it's fine, Kellin,” I call down to him. His back is to me, and at first I'm not sure if he's heard me. He's reverted to silence again.

He moves away from the bonnet and wanders round to one of the back doors. Kellin got all confused earlier when I called it the 'bonnet' instead of the 'hood'. We laughed about it, but talking about the differences between English and American English only made me miss home more, and I guess I've kind of been silent since then too. Neither of us is in the mood for today. It feels ominous.

Kellin pulls out a gun from the back seat and tosses another one to me. His is larger than mine, but I don't think I'd be able to handle anything bigger than a handgun. “Come on then,” he says, propping his firearm up against his shoulder. He holds out a hand for me. I slide to the edge of the roof and dangle my legs over, taking his hand; it's cool and a little rough. I hop from the roof and we start walking towards the store. My heart is beating double time, so wild that probably every Walker in a ten mile radius can hear it. But nothing stirs, inside or outside the store.

Kellin peers through the hole in the windows. It's so big I can only guess someone drove into it in a desperate attempt to get supplies. The front of the store is a mess. There's broken glass and crushed boxes and cans everywhere. The smell of rotting meat drifts towards us. The back of the store is in complete shadow, daylight only reaching so far. I really don't want to go back there.

We already had the debate about whether we should split up or not, and eventually we decided to just get in and get out as quickly as possible, and that meant going our separate ways. I don't really want to. I would much rather stay with Kellin and just take a bit longer, but the more time we spend here the more likely we are to be found by Walkers and people alike.

The glass crunches underfoot. It's impossible to avoid it and thereby impossible to move quietly. The sound of it echoes through the store and I grimace. But no Walkers come tearing round the corner, arms reaching for us, so we keep going.

Once we reach the first aisle Kellin says quietly, “Okay, so if you go that way and I go this way and we circle round, we should meet at the back of the store. Then we can get the hell out of here.”

I nod. “Alright.”

Before Kellin can go speeding off, I draw him into a hug with my free arm. He doesn't react at first, just stands there awkwardly with his gun still cradled against his shoulder, but then slowly, and to my relief, he wraps his other arm around me. We stay like that for a few seconds. He smells like earth and life and he's comfortingly warm. When he pulls away I feel cold.

“Okay?” he asks, smiling at me.

I feel blood rush to my cheeks and my heart is still hammering away. “Yeah, okay, let's go.”

Kellin turns and jogs down the nearest aisle, already sliding his bag off his shoulder, unzipped and ready to fill. I head in the opposite direction. My hands are sweating. I'm worried that my gun will just slip from slick palms. A rustling back the way I came startles me, but I know it's only Kellin. Yet still I feel on the verge of gagging with fear. I don't like enclosed spaces, not even buildings this big. I like the wilderness. I like outdoors, air, freedom. Out there you can move, outrun anything. In here I'm trapped.

I come across an aisle of things like batteries and I start shoving stuff into my bag, anything I think we might need. My shoes stick to something that's been spilt. In the dim light I can't entirely tell what it is, but I try not to focus on it anyway. If it's blood I'd rather not know.

When I reach the end of the aisle something catches my eye. The CD section. I smile to myself. My CD collection got left behind in my old car; I'm sure I can spare a few minutes replenishing it. I start rifling through them. Most of them are intact; I wouldn't really expect other scavengers to be stealing them anyway. I reach the 'S' section and that's when I notice something: Sleeping With Sirens. I feel my smile stretch into a grin as I pull out two CDs. I rip the cellophane from them, not caring about making noise anymore, and start leafing through the booklets. I skim read the lyrics, trying to imagine Kellin singing them. He seems so subdued that I can't think of him up on a stage.

I've wasted too much time already. I put the booklets back in the cases and put the CDs in my bag along with the others.

And that's when I hear it. A kind of guttural snarl, liquid and low. I don't want to turn around, I don't want to see anything. I just want to get my things and meet Kellin and leave this place, all in one piece. But that was never going to happen, was it?

I turn my head slowly and I see the Walker stood at the far end of the CD rack, just watching me. His head twitches and rolls languidly towards me. His eyes are clouded over, completely blind, but he knows full well that I'm here, and his lack of eyesight won't hinder him at all when it comes to the chase. He just needs to smell me, sense me. His fingers flick where his arms hang at his sides. The skin has been wrenched back from his fingertips, the bone pushing through.

I don't know what to do. He's not running at me so I can't run, because if I do then he'll just do the same. I could try and sneak away but that wouldn't work for long, he'd only rush at me. If I shoot him then the sound could alert any other Walkers in the store, and possibly endanger Kellin.

I don't know what to do, I don't know, I just don't fucking know.

I feel like I'm about to be sick.

I take one step back, trying to keep my movements slow, almost imperceptible. People forget that Walker's are smart. His head jerks when he senses that one small movement of mine. This isn't going to work. I'm going to have to run.

As soon as I start sprinting he's after me, his snarls turning into rasping shrieks. And I'm screaming Kellin's name, just calling him over and over, and the desperation in my voice makes it crack. Why didn't I just shoot the Walker? For fuck's sake, why didn't I just shoot the bloody thing and get it over with?

I skid down another aisle, almost rocketing into the shelves. I'm still yelling Kellin's name when I hear, “Alexa?”

Kellin's voice sounds so far away, so distant. I shout his name again and he shouts mine in return and the panic in his voice rings clear.

“Get out of the store!” I scream, hoping he can understand me.

I'm never going to shake this Walker. The only hope I have is getting back to the front of the store and racing to the car. If Kellin gets out before me he can shoot the thing.

“Where are you?” he calls back. Why does he have to save me? Why does he always have to try and save me? And I know why, it's because he couldn't save his wife and child, but he's only going to get himself killed. He needs to save himself, then he can save me too.

I don't reply to him, I can't. My breathing is becoming ragged, my legs are tiring. I haven't eaten properly in so long and it's only adrenaline keeping me going. I go round another corner and that's when I slip. I hit the ground hard, my elbows crashing against the hard floor and something wet. The Walker will be on me any second, I can hear him coming, and I fumble desperately for my gun, but it's no longer in my hand. I spot it a few feet away, and it's as I'm scrabbling towards it that the Walker comes flying round the corner.

I scream. I just need my gun, just need to reach for it, but-

Two shots ring out. The Walker goes down just a foot from me. A figure steps into view in the dim light and I lie there, breathing hard.

“Alexa?” comes Kellin's voice again. “Alexa, please! Where are you? Alexa!” But his voice is still far away.

Whoever shot the Walker isn't Kellin.