Hammers and Strings

Two days, and I refused to speak to William. It was obvious that we were running out of stuff to eat. Mostly because William's a guy, and he eats. And I'm human, so I eat. There wasn't much to start with anyway, but the grocery store's locked, and there were zombies outside. So, we stayed in. And William carried on conversations with me like I was talking to him. It's kind of really annoying.

But I refused to say anything.

Four days, and I felt like jumping out a window. There's nothing left except alcoholic beverages and tap water, and William won't let me within five feet of the fridge anymore. He locked it, actually. This kind of sucked. I missed drinking alcohol. I was craving it. On the fifth day, I put on my leather jacket and tried sneaking back to my apartment, but William grabbed my arm and started dragging me to the stairs.

"Que el fuck, William!" I shouted, trying to stop him from dragging me any further. Really not working.

"We're leaving. We're going to Butcher's place." William continued to tug on my arm. I felt as if it was going to pop out of its socket. I tried to pull my arm back towards my body, but William already had me halfway through the doorway into the staircase area. I realized William had a bat in the other hand. He's serious.

We flitted down the steps, and I finally blurted out:

"Why are you suddenly changing your mind?"

He looked at me. "Did you look at what was in the fridge?"

I stopped. "We're going there because there's food?" I crossed my arms. So the plan was: Mooch off Butcher and whatever he has left in his fridge? Smaaart.

"No. We're going there to bring our friends to the grocery store." Oh, so he actually somewhat thought this through. I saw the radio hooked to William's belt. We really were leaving. "We're going in my car." I remembered William's wonderful dark blue BMW which he bought half a year ago. It was still in wonderful shape. No scratches or dents. He took real good care of it.

After going down several flights of stairs, we finally reached the lobby. William made me stay behind him, just in case there were any zombies in the lobby. I was scared. But we made it there without being attacked. Unfortunately, I couldn't really say the same for when we stepped out of the apartment complex and into the parking lot.

Cars were absolutely demolished. Parts of the concrete ceiling had collapsed somehow, and cars were stacked on each other. I spotted William's car...

It was crushed.

"FUCK!" he shouted, sprinting over to his vehicle. He slammed his fists on the hood. "GOD DAMMIT! Just when I thought things could turn around--''

I found my black Yamaha motorcycle which was chained up to the railing near the elevator, started the ignition, and drove over to William. "Hop on," I said, handing him my helmet.

"It's dangerous to go on that thing!" William replied, refusing to take the helmet.

"Okay, Mr. 'I'd rather be eaten alive than ride a motorcycle.' If you can either hot-wire a car or magically fix your BMW, I'll turn it off. If not, then I'm going on my bike. Feel free to join me." William scowled. I knew he didn't know how to hot-wire a car. The only option we had was my motorcycle.

He pushed my helmet back towards me. "I've got one in the trunk." William jogged to the back of the car and lifted up the mangled trunk, grabbed his helmet, and tried to shut it. The trunk lid just wouldn't stay closed. Once he gave up, he hopped on, held onto my waist, and we went off.

I sped past the zombies, who reached out to grab us. William started to bat them away as I kept my eyes on the road. I felt as though I was driving like a drunk monkey. I was swerving to the left and right, trying my best not to hit the zombies. William was swinging wildly to prevent them from hurtingme us. But, unfortunately....

William fell off the bike.
"WILL!" I shrieked, trying to turn my bike around. Through my mirrors, I saw him getting up. I wasrelieved angry. He swung the bat at the zombies, which drew closer and closer.

"I'll be fine!" he yelled, smacking them with his bat. "Go on without me!"

Was he insane?

I revved the engine and turned the motorcycle around. It was time for me to stop being a wuss. I drove full speed ahead back to where William was surrounded by zombies. He kept swinging as they came closer, but I drove over these stupid monsters. "Get on!" I yelled, revving the engine again. Once William had one leg on the bike, I sped off towards Butcher's apartment complex.

"Slow down!" William shouted, trying to balance himself on the motorcycle. He finally just fell onto the seat. "Christ, you're driving like a crazy soccer mom whose daughter just lost the soccer game!" He's gripping onto my waist for dear life as I watched the speedometer hike all the way up to 80. I made a quick turn into the parking lot, and the same thing had happened to this one like at ours: Blaring alarms, broken cars, concrete rubble. I screeched to a halt, and William jumped off.

"Why do I get this feeling that you wanted to kill both of us?" He started up the steps as I attempted to chain my bike up to the railing near the elevator area.

"Because I'm the psychotic ex-wife of Jim Carey who's out to kill men with manginas named William Eugene Beckett Junior." I skipped up the stairs after him, watching him trudge up the steps. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Bilvy, it was a joke." I frowned. Was he actually upset by my comment?I was a tad insensitive. Alexis Cameron never admits fault. Oh God, I was back to calling him pet names!

He turned around. "Bilvy?[/i}" he said questionably, standing in the middle of the steps.

Growling.

William turned around and smacked the zombie in the face and beat it down to the ground. He kicked the body down the stairs as I hopped out of the way, cringing. He continued up the steps and by the time we were in front of the second floor door, William turned to look at me. "Does this mean something, Lex?" he asked quietly.

I blinked. It just kinda slipped out on accident. Did it mean something?