The Place That Remains

Twenty-one days.

Three long weeks since she had been separated from him inside the abandoned supermarket. A group of probably twenty walkers had found them inside as they stuffed their backpacks full of food and other supplies and they were attacked, forcing her to run in the opposite direction he was running. And she hadn't seen him since.

He would be dead by now. It was only by sheer luck that she had survived this long on her own. She'd never been a particularly strong person to begin with, but now that things were the way they were, it was nearly impossible for her to keep going from day to day.

She had been walking for days and she wasn't even sure which direction she was headed. She'd always been bad with directions. He'd always said she couldn't find her way out of a wet paper bag and he was right. She knew enough to stay off the main roads, when so many walkers were aimlessly shuffling around looking for people to eat.

When she got too tired to keep going, she'd pick out one of the many dead bodies scattered about in the forest and lay down near it, close enough that the stench would mask her own scent from the walkers who happened across her. She used the sleeve of her old green sweater to cover her nose in an attempt to block out some of the horrific odor radiating from the body, but it usually didn't do any good.

She would sleep for only two or three hours each night, off and on, never feeling relaxed enough to allow herself any more than that. Of course, you couldn't ever be relaxed in an environment like this one. The many many days she'd kept up this routine were beginning to wear her down.

She stopped in her tracks, looking around as she heard leaves rustling somewhere close to her. There they were. Three walkers were headed directly toward her, but they hadn't seen her yet. She slowly and silently took a step backwards, the tree now blocking her from their sight. They would still be able to smell her once they got close enough though. She knew she had to do something.

The extremely sharp machete she'd found a few days ago hung at her side and she gripped her tired fingers tightly around its handle, preparing herself to take a swing at the first walker when it reached her. Her left hand played with the pieces of thin metal on the fourth finger and she mindlessly twisted them around as she took a deep breath, preparing herself. The rings comforted her. Just having that tiny part of him with her always made her feel a little better.

Just as it was catching her scent, she lunged out from behind the tree, swinging her weapon out to slice the walker's head clean off his shoulders. The others were now aware of her and they had picked up their pace as they headed for her. She brought the heavy blade down directly on top of the next one's head, splitting the skull in two and making him crumple to the ground.

The last one reached out his dirty, bloody hands to her as he attempted to grab her by the throat but she swung her arm once again, slicing off one of his hands before quickly bringing the weapon down on his skull as well.

Once they were all taken care of, she wiped the blood off the blade onto a nearby tree and continued on her path through the forest, trying to be as silent as possible in case there were more in the vicinity.

She halted her walk when her boot-clad feet hit asphalt instead of the soft, wet ground she'd been walking on all morning. She had reached a road, but it wasn't a main one. There was a large building in the immediate horizon and she hoisted up the dirty gray backpack weighing heavily on her shoulders as she took off into a run, desperate for some food and water since she had run out three days ago.

There were abandoned cars all over the parking lot and she sighed in relief when she finally reached the building's entrance. Thank fuck for Walmart, she thought to herself as she gripped her machete tightly and cautiously pulled the door open.