Ava awoke to the ground shaking beneath her and a resonating boom sounding in the distance. She leapt up immediately, rushing to the door of the ramshackle shed that she had spent the night in. She stepped out into the sun, shielding her eyes to peer into the distance. A plume of smoke drifted lazily into the sky. She frowned, worry tarnishing her delicate face. Instinctively, she took a step forward, wanting to help.
Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that there was nothing she could do. She hoped that, whatever was going on, no one had been hurt, but she was only barely managing to survive herself. She'd lost track of how long it had been since the infection had broken out, and the world had fallen apart. At least a few months. The days were getting shorter, and the nights were getting longer. It was still hot out, but the nights were already growing chillier, hinting of the impending winter. She would need somewhere to stay once the harsh cold hit. And some people might be nice to have around, as well. There was safety in numbers, although she was always cautious about approaching strangers now, after the last ones she met had taken all of her supplies and left her for the dead to eat. Not all people were bad, she realized. She thought of her friends briefly, the small group she had been traveling with since the chaos had broken out. Individuals all more adept than her at surviving in this new cruel world, who had helped keep her alive. They were all dead now. Somehow, she was the only one left.
Food. That's what I need, she thought, banishing visions of their last moments from her mind. Food and shelter.
Ava stepped back inside to grab her small, nearly empty pack and the gun she carried but still didn't really know how to use. She paused a moment as she exited the shed again, letting the early morning sun warm her, and staring worriedly at the smoke once more. Finally, with a determined deep breath, she set off. The smoke continued to pour into the sky behind her, black clouds washing out the bright blue sky like an omen of misfortune to come.
With every gust of wind, Ava could smell the acrid odor of the smoke, though it was growing fainter as she walked further in the opposite direction. According to a map she had found at an abandoned travel station, there should be a camp ground up ahead. She wasn't sure how much shelter it would offer, but she was hoping that it might have some supplies that hadn't been touched yet. The sun moved upwards in the sky while she walked down the side of the road, occasionally stopping to consult her map or check an abandoned car for supplies. Her stomach ached with hunger and her feet started to drag. As the sun reached its pinnacle, beating down on her from above, she paused in the shade of a tree, savoring the few sips of water she had left in her water bottle. She laboriously stood back up and set off again, exhausted and starving, her boots scuffing against the pavement.
A familiar groan from the woods to her left alerted her to the presence of a dead one. It was far enough away that she thought she'd be okay, as long as she moved quickly. Ava preferred to avoid them when she could. Despite the protestations of her empty stomach, she moved her pace to a trot. She crested the top of a small hill and saw a fence rising up in the distance. Her hope soared. If the campground was completely fenced in, perhaps she'd be able to stay there.
There were a few of the dead ones meandering around the outside, but she saw an opening and ran for it. She tossed her pack over the top of the fence, and then grabbed on quickly, pulling herself up. Jamming the toe of her black combat boot through the chain link, she started to climb as fast as she could. Three of the dead were getting closer.
Shit shit shit. She was starting to panic. Her foot slipped, and one of the horridly decaying creatures was close enough to grab it. She kicked out at it, connecting with its head. It stumbled back momentarily, but now another grabbed her pant leg. She stifled a scream and kicked again, freeing herself long enough to grab the knife from her belt and forcing it through the thing's decrepit eye socket. She grabbed the fence again and hauled herself up, swinging her leg over the top and dropping to the other side. She hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of her. She lay there, staring up at the sky. She was sure this was it. Though she couldn’t feel it, she must have been bitten. Her good fortune had run out.
Finally, she summoned the last of her courage and ran her hands over her legs, checking for bites. She let her breath out in an audible sigh when she found none. Rising to her feet, she triumphantly looked through the fence at the dead one she had felled. It lay sprawled in the grass, facing up towards the sky, a mirror image of the pose she had just vacated. Her feelings of victory faded quickly, though, as she got a better look at it. Her knife jutted out of its eye socket still. Shit.
Ava grabbed her pack and began walking the perimeter of the fence, checking for holes or gaps that would allow the dead through. She’d managed to cover some distance before the angry grumbles of her stomach grew too much to bear. Reluctantly, she ventured further into the campground, desperate for food. A few campers had been abandoned, some still hooked up to the facilities that no longer worked. She stood on her tiptoes and peeked through a dusty window, before immediately recoiling in horror. In the driver’s seat sat a man, long dead, a bullet hole through his temple. Tears stung Ava’s eyes, and she wondered if she would ever get used to the new state of the world - if it were even possible to become accustomed to situations so unnatural. She took a few paces backward, feeling uneasy about letting the dead man out of her sight.
She backed up against something hard, and immediately turned, her hand clutching uselessly at the spot on her belt where she kept her knife. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was only a sign that she had walked into, but it drove home to her how helpless she was out here, alone and with nothing to defend herself but a gun she couldn't aim. And she didn’t have very many bullets anyway. She peered at the sign closer. It was a map, indicating that there was a camp store on the other side of the grounds. She set off to find it, hoping that it had food. She promised herself that she would come back to check the campers for supplies once she was feeling more full, and hopefully more brave.
The store was mostly empty. Ava was clearly not the first person to think of checking here for supplies. The shelves were barren, some knocked over. Disappointment welled up in her throat. She wondered how she would survive without food. She glanced over the few remaining camping supplies, making a mental note to come back for one of the tents before nightfall.
She peeked around the counter and was surprised to see a lone cardboard box, slightly trampled, sitting on the floor. She stepped around the counter and peered at it more closely, trying her best to keep her expectations from swelling. She recognized the logo on the side immediately and greedily tore the box open. Inside were several small yellow bags, promising potato chips.
She grabbed a bag and pulled it open. Her parched mouth instantly salivated as the smell washed over her. The first chip hit her tongue in an ecstasy of salty, greasy perfection. She wolfed down the entire bag, sucking the remnants from her fingers, before forcing herself to stop. She didn’t know when the next time she would find food would be, and she was determined to ration her food responsibly.
Stepping outside again, she decided to investigate the rest of the grounds before returning for her tent and chips. She walked behind the store and came across a small shed. A sign on the outside of it read, “Shower.” She poked around the perimeter, before cautiously stepping through the door. To her surprise, there was a pump next to the shower head. Though she hadn’t done much camping, she wondered if this meant that it didn’t require electricity to work. She gave it a few halfhearted pumps, turned the spigot, and was delighted when a small amount of water splashed her in the face. She set her pack and gun down on the bench hurriedly, and returned to pump more vigorously now. She ached to wash the months of grime from her body. Ava quickly unlaced her boots, setting them on the bench with her pack and gun. She unbuttoned and removed her loose flannel, and then pulled her tank top over her head. She peeled her grime-caked jeans from her body. Lastly, she unhooked her bra and stepped out of her panties.
She stood under the water, completely naked. It was cold, but she didn't care. She threw her head back and ran her hands through her hair, letting the water wash away the dirt, the blood, and the worries that she had accumulated. She stretched her back and inhaled deeply, running her hands over her body. Her smooth skin was covered in goosebumps, and her pink nipples stuck straight out in the cold water. She scrubbed at her short light brown hair and couldn’t help but wish that she had some shampoo and soap. Grabbing her clothes, she scoured them under the water as best she could, rinsing them until the water ran nearly clear. Then she turned the water off and wrung them out. She darted outside, still naked, to hang them in the sun. She returned to the shower, flicking the water back on, and started singing softly. She knew she should save the water, but she was enjoying herself too much. Besides, what else was she going to do while she waited for her clothes to dry? She sang a little a louder, feeling clean and completely carefree for the first time in months.
Finally, the water sputtered to a halt. She squeezed the water out of her hair and ran her hands along her skin to brush the water droplets off. She stepped outside, and the sun hit her full on. She closed her eyes for a moment to adjust to the brightness, feeling the warmth already evaporating the beads of water from her bare flesh.
“You have a nice singing voice, little songbird,” a deep voice said in front of her. She jumped, and her eyes snapped open. Her hands rushed to cover herself, and she quickly ducked back into the shed. “Although I'm not sure how smart it is to be making so much noise. You're lucky it was just me that heard you, and not a bunch of zombies.”
Ava peered out into the sunlight, only seeing a man's tall silhouette against the now setting sun. She stepped back again, hoping to grab her gun. She couldn't make out his face, but could hear a teasing smirk in his voice.
“That's a bad idea, little birdie.” His voice lost the joking tone, becoming serious. “I don't want to shoot you, but I will.” He took a step towards her. “Here.” He tossed her clothes into the dirt a few feet in front of her. She took a step forward, and then hesitated in the doorway. “I suppose I could turn around for a minute. Since you obviously don't have any weapons on you.” He laughed a little, and then turned his back to her.
She darted out, and grabbed her underwear and jeans, yanking them on as quickly as she could. She scrambled to pull her bra back on. He turned back around as she was still pulling her tank top over her head. She pulled it down to cover her bra. Feeling more secure now that she was clothed, she glared at him.
He towered over her, though she was used to most people being taller than her slight frame. She looked over his face. She could tell it had been a while since he had trimmed his short hair and scruffy beard. His piercing green eyes bore into her steely blue ones. There was a hardness to them, belied by a mischievous twinkle. Despite herself, she found him attractive. She wondered what his scruff would feel like against the smooth skin of her cheeks. She shook her head, trying to physically banish her suddenly erotic thoughts. Her gaze shifted, and she nervously eyed the rifle he had slung across his back.
“I need my boots. They're in the shed,” she snapped at him, hoping her thoughts weren’t apparent. She brushed at the dirt which stuck to her damp shirt, reminding herself that he was an inconsiderate jerk who had just thrown her freshly washed clothes into the dirt.
“I bet they are. I bet you have a gun in there, too,” he smirked at her. She glared back. “Tell you what. You stay here. And I'll go in and get them for you. You could run away if you want, but-” he gestured towards her bare feet. “No shoes,” he finished with a laugh.
She crossed her arms in irritation, watching him step into the shed. She could hear him poking around in there, and the rush of water for a moment, as he discovered the working shower pump. She thought briefly about leaving, but he was right. She wouldn’t get very far with bare feet. And she was still lacking a weapon.
He stepped outside again, her gun now poking out of the waistband of his pants. “You know you only have three bullets left?” he asked, as he tossed her boots toward her. They hit the ground in front of her, making a little dust cloud rise up around her feet. “And no knives or anything? How the hell did you last this long?”
She said nothing, only bent over to grab her boots. She took a step back and yanked them on while standing on one foot, glancing apprehensively up at the stranger in front of her. She was surprised to notice his gaze lingering on her cleavage as she bent over, though his eyes darted away quickly when he saw her notice.
“There should be enough water left for you to shower,” she said finally, straightening, now that her boots were tied. “And there are potato chips in the store there,” she gestured. “Give me my gun and my pack, and I'll just leave.”
“And how do I know you won't just shoot me as soon as I give you your gun?” he countered.
“You know I only have three bullets. Why would I waste one on you?” she said bitterly.
“Maybe you want to keep all of these alleged potato chips to yourself.”
“You can go check. There are tents too.”
“Uh huh, and I bet there are -” he stopped mid-sentence, his hand going to the handle of a knife hooked in his belt. He stared off into the distance over her shoulder. She turned quickly to follow his stare. A dead one shambled out from behind the store and moved towards them, still a safe distance away, but alarming, since she foolishly thought that they couldn't breach the fence. Involuntarily, she took a step backward, towards the strange man. She still hadn't gotten used to seeing corpses lurch hungrily at her, and, despite her misgivings, apparently her subconscious found him to be a safer alternative than facing a zombie with her bare hands.
“You really don't have a knife or anything?” he said, stepping between her and the approaching creature. He pulled his knife and stabbed through the top of its head as it shambled closer. He pulled the knife back out with a grunt, the creature crumpling to the ground in a heap.
“It got stuck in a thing's eye,” she said, her face crinkling in disgust and annoyance at the memory.
He laughed, causing her to direct her annoyance at him now, which only seemed to amuse him more. “Here,” he said. He wiped the knife against his pant leg and then held it out to her, handle first. “Just don't stab me, okay? I feel bad leaving you defenseless, if there are more of them.”
She hesitantly stepped forward and took it from him, their fingers brushing quickly before she snatched her hand away, shoving the knife into her own belt. “More?” she said nervously, her eyes anxiously darting in the direction the dead one had come from.
“Did you bother checking the fence before you decided to strip and make a bunch of noise?”
“I checked some of it,” she replied softly, her eyes sinking to the ground as her anger faded, replaced by embarrassment and shame. It really was a wonder that she had managed to survive on her own at all.
“Needed a shower that bad?” he grinned at her.
She glared back, feeling defensive. “Did you check?”
“No, I had to investigate the mysterious singing shower shed.” His face suddenly changed from amused to alarmed. “Fuck!” he said.
She turned to see what he was looking at again, and froze with ice cold terror. Gently illuminated by the pink glow of the sunset, the dead shambled towards them, more of them than she had ever seen.