Although, for all I know, they’re following us around the store like stalkers, which wouldn’t fucking surprise me at this point. Still, it gives me a small amount of peace to check aisle by aisle anyway, even if it’s impossible to truly clear the damn building such as it is.
Winding our way through the aisles and finally passing all the stuff that expired months ago, we come to the canned and packaged foods. It’s untouched, with rows and rows of food for the taking. Pallets of soda, juice, and water line one aisle, and I could cry because we may be alone and fucked, but we won’t die of dehydration anytime soon. The next aisles include canned vegetables and fruits, crackers, cereals, and more. It’s a paradise of food that I wouldn’t have eaten before all this but now sounds like heaven.
After checking the remainder of the store—as best we can anyway—we sit at the entrance and chow down on canned green beans and potato chips, which are remarkably good considering, following it with a sports drink chaser.
“Well,” Enzo says, wiping his mouth. “What do you think?”
“I think we should stay. There’s so much food,” I whisper, waving my arm around. It would be a shame to leave it behind now that we’ve found it, especially when our efforts outside have been so much wasted time.
“Here?” Enzo asks.
I nod before clearing my throat and murmuring, “Yes. Why move it somewhere else?”
There are only two of us. If someone really wants to take what’s here, they can. However, if we make it look like it’s still untouched and full of zombies, we might have a better chance. There’s not much in the way of sleeping available, but there are bathrooms we can force water down to flush and, of course, so much fantastic food.
“Okay,” Enzo agrees, and I lean my head against the concrete wall with a tired sigh. Although I’m relieved to find a place to hunker down, it’s hard to be excited when my heart feels dead in my chest.
I miss my people so fucking much.
We haven’t completely cleared the store, which could take days at this point, so we bring the truck closer, but not too close so as not to tip anyone off and then sleep inside it for the night. It’s not ideal, but we each take turns keeping watch, and by morning my neck aches, my head hurts, and the dull ache in my chest has become a familiar pain.
We spend the next few days combing the Sam’s Club, removing any remaining undead—there were a few—and cataloging what we have. Because we’ve decided to stay, we move everything around inside to block off access to all the doors but a few, which are strategically left exposed for a quick getaway.
Thankfully, Enzo knew how to use the forklift because I probably would’ve been moving shit by hand for weeks. When I asked, he just shrugged and said he worked in a warehouse once.
The sound brought zombies to our door, but we figured it was the best way to keep others from trying to break inside. We found a few cans of spray paint at a nearby store and sprayed warning messages on the doors and walls outside the building too. Hopefully, the threat of zombies inside will deter anyone from trying to enter. With any luck, the winter weather will keep others at bay as well.
Enzo and I work companionably but silently because I don’t have much to say, and just going through the motions takes all my effort sometimes. Having a focus is helping to keep my mind off everything, but I know eventually I am going to have a come-to-Jesus moment with my emotions, and it’s probably not going to be pretty. For now, I’m putting it off for as long as possible.
As the weeks pass, we fall into a routine, trading guard duty, moving items around within the store, and tracking what we have to ensure it lasts a long time. Now that December is upon us, we’ve gone out to find battery-operated space heaters, which are now coming in quite handy, along with sleeping bags, pillows, and air mattresses.
The Sam’s Club is a wide-open space, containing bulk food items on huge pallets. It doesn’t contain heat too well, and I’m only halfway warm if I lay directly in front of the heater, but I know as the weeks go by, it’s only going to get colder. Still, being inside is a boon, and we’re lucky to have found a place to stay to ride out the snow because we got our first dusting of it yesterday.
There’s been no sign of the group we ran into before, and we’re content for now to stay where we have shelter, food, and heat. At night, to pass the time, we play games. Card games, board games, mind games. It’s all we do all the time.
We still turn in early, with the end of the sun each day, but being inside means it’s dark all the time, and we can’t risk exposing ourselves, so games it is. Tonight, we’re tired of board games, so we’re playing truth or dare.
“Okay, truth or dare,” Enzo says.
“Truth,” I respond noncommittally.
“Okay, hmmm. How old were you when you lost your virginity?” he asks playfully, and I tamp down a spike of annoyance.
Technically, I lost my virginity at the age of sixteen when I was raped. Still, I don’t want to take out my rage on Enzo because so far, he’s been nothing but a gentleman and helpful with this whole survival crap, so it’s not fair for me to continue to punish him over my paranoia.
“Sixteen,” I say flatly. “You?”
“Uh-uh, nope,” he teases, and I roll my eyes in the dark. “Okay, truth or dare?”
“Dare,” he says gleefully.
I glance around, but the building is pitch dark as usual. What the hell am I gonna dare him to do in here?
“All right, go open one of the refrigerators in the back,” I say with a smirk because that shit has gotta be ripe after all this time.
“Damn, you’re harsh, woman,” he says before grabbing his flashlight and disappearing into the store.
I smile in the dark and even giggle when I hear the sounds of gagging from the back, but all too soon, he’s back and saying cheerfully, “Truth or dare?”