Sequel: Static Screams
Status: bloody

White Noise


There was something calming about missing things from life before the apocalypse. Things like sweet iced tea and your favorite band releasing new music. Making lists is incredibly calming; so listing off things you miss now that everything was gone must be calming. And it was.

“I miss wine drenched kisses.” Natalie offered up as she started pulling cans from kitchen cabinets. We had woken up right after sun rise, and after a breakfast of granola bars and water, had split into groups of three to clear the final floor of the apartment building. We’d been holed up in this place for four days. Which meant tomorrow we’d go through everything we had found and decide what to leave, what to hide in case we came back this way at any point, and what to take with us.

My pistol was tucked into the holster I’d taken from a dead officer, and my axe was in my pack on the floor. I was stuffing clothes that hadn’t been too ravaged by bugs and mice into it. “I miss beer.” Peter grumbled. Nat and I laughed.

“I’m sure you were a heavy drinker.” Natalie joked. I caught the glare he gave her in return as I moved from what used to be a teenagers room into the master suite. He threw a torn up pillow at her and they both laughed. Natalie, who I would suspect as being quite curvaceous before the end of everything, had blonde hair chopped roughly at her neck. She had made two long feather earrings out of feathers and beads she’d found at a house we’d ransacked two months back. We both wore one in our right ears. Sasha had joined us not long after, and Natalie promised to find the supplies to make her one as well.

I stepped over a rotted man’s head on my way to the closet. He’d been groaning and banging his head on the bathroom door when we hacked into the place. There was a small dead nearly completely decomposed body in the bathroom; which was probably what he was trying to get at. I grabbed only the pants and t-shirts, along with a couple jackets, and then headed to the dresser. I dumped all of the socks and clean under garments into my pack, cheering when four sports bras fell from the drawer.

Nat peeked her head into the room, and a wide smile spread on her face when she saw what I was holding up. “Yes!” Sports bras were so much easier to fight zombies in. But ours had been essentially ruined during The Great Boat House Flood. She kicked the head out of the way and shut the door, telling Peter not to come in. We both yanked our shirts and bras off and I handed her the smaller of the four bras. I tried to avoid checking her out; though her tan, smooth skin made it incredibly difficult. Though during the end of the world you tend to not have as much of a sexual desire as you used to. I pulled the bra over my head, and then we both stripped off our jeans and I doled out clean underwear.

Clean under garments on, we dressed again, and stretched; feeling like new women. “That’s so much better!” Natalie enthused. She gave me a quick smile, and then headed back out to finish clearing the kitchen. I followed suit.

Peter threw a fist in the air when I tossed him a Yankees ball cap. “Thanks, Scar. Nice beanie.” I graced him with a small smile in reply, subconsciously tugging the beanie down on my head. I’d had to let my hair down to put it on, put I missed wearing them, so I dealt with it. Though with hair down to my waist, it wasn’t exactly ideal. But we were only clearing apartments.

“Y’all ready to move on?” I asked.

They both nodded and zipped their packs. We all took out our ‘melee’ weapons, as Peter insisted on calling them. Like this was a video game and not the reality of our lives. Maybe it was just his coping mechanism, but maybe it was just him being annoying. Regardless, we headed into the hallway. Sasha, Ian, and Darren had taken the other side of the hallway, so we moved down to the next door on our side. We’d cleared seven and had three more to go.

I sidled up next to the door, pressing my ear to it. There was a slight sound of shuffling. I held my hand out in a thumbs up so they knew we had friends inside, and then tried the doorknob. Ninety percent of the time, the doors were locked. This one wasn’t. So I swung it open, letting it hit whatever was behind it with a sharp thud. The shuffling turned to a shriek that headed in our direction, we all backed up. A zombie burst through the doorway, still shrieking, and hit the wall. When it turned to find us, I swung my axe full force, decapitating what used to be a soccer mom, based on the bloody and torn track suit.

Peter moved around me, stepping over the body, and went into the apartment first. Nat and I followed, shutting the door behind us so nothing could creep in. Peter whistled, and the sound of groaning and thudding came from the hallway. He moved down to the furthest door with noise, and I took the first one. Nat went straight into the kitchen to start scavenging.

I pushed open the door with force, causing the zombie to be shoved backwards. Still, it recovered quickly, and ran at me, screaming. I didn’t have enough room to hit it with the axe. I cursed at myself for not finding a better whacking weapon as I was thrown against the wall, holding the zombies chomping teeth at bay with the wood of the axe. The decaying flesh on its face was flapping and hitting my hands. In the beginning of the end, that would have disgusted me. Now, it was just another thing you got used to.

“Ugh.” I groaned, pushing against the zombie with the axe, trying to force it back into the room, where I’d have room to dispatch it. But it kept pushing forward, desperate for a meal. I brought my right leg up, and folded it against me so my foot could reach the zombies stomach. I kicked out, and only deterred the creature a little, mostly because all that happened was my leg was shoved through the stomach and my foot was now stuck in the mushy guts. Some of the said guts fell to the ground with a squishing sound.

“Jesus!” How did Nat and Peter not hear me struggling? I tried to keep my balance, but the zombie shoved towards me, and I fell to the floor, my one leg giving out. The rest of my jean clad leg went through its stomach as it fell on me. I cried out in disgust, finally reaching that point.

I had set my pack by the door before I opened it, and it was that that I reached for now. I jerked the zipper up, still trying to hold the zombie back with the axe, which I couldn’t use without the chance of the Z biting me. I grasped a hold of the first can my hand came in contact with, and yanked it out from under the clothes. I quickly smashed it into the side of the creatures head, turning mine as I did so, so none of the blood or guts would get on my face too badly. It shrieked at me, only angered, with a dent now in its skull. I brought the can back again, and then smacked it against the skull again, harder, and finally the shrieking stopped. But blood and decaying flesh fell against my chest and the left side of my face, by my ear and cheek.

I took a moment to take a few deep breaths and then shouted for Peter. He came out of the room at the end of the hall, and then burst into laughter. “Fuck you.” I growled. He set his pack down, and came to my side. He pulled the zombie off my leg and threw it back into the room it had been in. I dropped the can, and accepted the hand he offered. He pulled me up and I nearly puked as guts and flesh fell from my leg.

“Okay. I have one.” Peter raised an eyebrow at me. I looked up, a scowl on my face. “I miss showers.”


Everyone but Sasha laughed when Peter told them about my leg getting stuck in a Z. I was in the bathroom, peeling off my jeans and then setting them in the bathtub with my t-shirt, and pouring a small amount of lighter fluid I’d found in the last apartment on them. I lit a match, and then watched as they burned to nothing but ash. The fire died out and I sighed contently. Every sign that I’d almost been bested by the decaying body of a criminal defense lawyer was gone. I’d already used a towel and a little of our water to scrub my face red, and then slathered lotion all over my leg and face.

I pulled on a pair of pants I’d found today, and a three-quartered length shirt, before heading back into the living room. I held up a hand. “Anyone who says anything about it has double watch tonight.” I threatened, glaring at everyone to solidify my punishment. “Not one word.”

I snatched up a bag of trail mix, a water, and my vitamins, and stomped off to my couch bed. Sasha managed to stay stocked up on vitamins and medication for us. Since meat was a rare treat, she was insistent that we have iron supplements and vitamins to make up for it so we’d be strong and wouldn’t get sick. It meant raiding medicine cabinets and grabbing nearly everything from medical supply stores and pharmacies; but it had kept anyone from getting sick since she joined our group. So she had some validity to her point.

I swallowed down my pills and chewed for a minute on the gummy vitamin. Reaching down into my pack, I pulled out one of the three books I allowed myself to carry. I could switch them out if I finished them and found a bookstore; but I couldn’t carry more than three.

Though, sometimes I would find one I didn’t have on my bed. I knew it was from Darren, but neither of us ever said anything. The same way I would secretly sneak part of my ration of food into the others packs when I was on watch at night. Everyone knew it was me; but no one said a word.

Still. I wasn’t getting attached.

Because everyone dies.


After we had hidden a portion of our gatherings in a hole in the woods behind the buildings, we headed, as a group, to the important buildings on the block. We quietly took out anyone in our way, and avoided them if we could. My hair was in a bun at the top of my head, my beanie in my pack, and my last hair band fighting to keep my hair up. I had to find more hair bands and wraps today. Also on my list, three new books, a new journal (which I used to make lists like this in) to replace the one I’d filled and left behind, chapstick, period stuff, and laces. I’d found a barely worn and completely intact pair of sneakers in one of the apartments, and they were only half a size too big. But the laces had been taken out and the apartments tenant had used them to hang from the ceiling fan. So I wasn’t going to use those.

We made our way to the bookstore first, so we didn’t have to backtrack. I had left my old books with our hidden stash, so I quickly found what used to be the young adult section, and searched for the horror and action books. With Darren’s help, I quickly found three that had promise. As I put them in my pack, I saw that he put two of the others I’d thought of and discarded, into his. Again, neither of us said a word. I whispered to everyone that we were headed across the street and a little down the block to the pharmacy next. On our way out of the bookstore, I found a journal just the right size, and a pack of pens and pencils. I already had a sharpener. I threw them in my bag and then shuffled to catch up.

Darren led us across the street, weaving us in and out of the cars. We were all careful not to walk too close to any of the cars. That’s how we’d lost Natalie’s brother, Christian, about seven months ago, though I couldn’t be sure. It was definitely at the start of the spring. As dandelions came to life, we lost a life. A crawler was under a car, and grabbed his leg. He couldn’t get loose and it ripped out his Achilles heel. We killed the crawler and got him into a safe area, but within six hours he was turning gray, and his eyes were losing their color. Knowing he’d turn, he asked us to put him down. He said it hurt and he didn’t want to accidentally hurt us. Natalie went with Darren on a walk, and I gave Christian two of the strongest pain killers we had with us. Once he had passed out, I stood aside and watched as Ian slammed a hatchet through his neck.

So we didn’t walk close to cars.

People die without warning nowadays.

So we didn’t walk close to cars.

And I didn’t get attached.


Restocked and refreshed by the emergency chemical wash showers that somehow still worked in the middle school; we made it to the other end of the city by nightfall, and holed up in an empty convenience store’s old break room. We blocked up the doors to keep out humans and zombies alike, and hunkered down, covered in jackets. Darren took first watch, and I told him to wake me up when he got tired.

As my body tried to fall asleep, my mind told me to open my eyes and take one last look at Darren. Sitting on the floor by the door, his flashlight and a book in his hands. It was a biography of someone from the seventies.

I fell asleep tracing the tattoos on his arms.
♠ ♠ ♠
word count;; 2496

yet another post. we're on a roll mostly because I have nothing to do but write lately
and i'm a bit addicted to Scarlett and this story
and the direction that we've talked about it heading.

in loooooove. with this story and my bestie ss

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