Young Writers Society

James looked down at the bat in his hands and pondered for a moment. Ideally, he would want a sword. Or a mace. Or an ax. An ax would do. But this was a little department store, not a smithy.

He hummed to himself and put the bat down. He didn't know enough about robots to say, so he decided to trust Briar's judgment, on this at least.

He started scanning the nearby shelves for something else more suitable to Briar's description. Most of the kitchen knives were small, giving little reach. And he couldn't imagine them cutting through steel, or whatever the robots were made out of.

"Then we might just have to find weapons elsewhere." Or they would just have to get creative. Strapping a knife to a bat, though, didn't seem too dependable. Or.... safe.

Briar looked over the selection in the kitchen section and sighed. Lots of stuff here would be very useful if their targets were human, but they were not. This was going to be difficult. Maybe the hardware section? This was a department store, so they probably didn't have anything too fancy, but even a hammer had a better chance of hurting one of those things than a baseball bat. Worst case, they put some nails through the bats like that old apocalypse show. What was it called?

She shook her head. She didn't have the time to be distracted by ancient television.

"I say we check the hardware section and see if they have anything. Or just go to a different store. We're not locked in here."

Kaya kept wandering the store, putting in random things here and there that she thinks will be useful, although most of it was nonperishable food and water. She wanted to find a crowbar or something long and metallic that can be used to dent metal, but turns out they're not sold at grocery stories. Bummer.

Her basket was getting full, so she walked around the store to look for a backpack, but then happened to run into the group who were standing near it anyways. They bickered about a usefulness of a bat while she put the basket's contents in the bag. It was obviously a child's backpack, but she wasn't exactly being stylish here.

At least, Kaya wasn't. Saya was a different story.

Right on cue, she slung the backpack on and twirled in a circle to show off her matching bag. "Nice backpacks," she said with a playful smile, her eyes darting between Jacob and Jason. "But also, I agree with... pigtails," she said, adding pigtails in last second because she didn't actually know her name. "This store doesn't really have anything we can use to defend ourselves against the robots."

Queenie glared at being called 'pigtails', but ignored it for now. "So we agree. Time to move on."

There had to be a hardware store somewhere around here. She - they - would wall find something a bit more useful in a place like that.

Milo had been quietly following the group for a while, keeping himself out of sight, and hopefully, out of mind, at least until he knew more about their personalities.

Yeah, you did so much talking that everyone knows you are a bumbling idiot, but you no fudge-all about them.

Well at least I'm trying my best to stay quiet now.

Which makes you look submissive and weak.

Shut up.

Hearing the others intending to move on, Milo noticed that all he had in his hands were a can of beans and a bottle of what he assumed would be water. Quickly grabbing some random things from the shelves; a small ball of yarn here, a can opener there, a odd-looking souvenir cup over there. While he couldn't find clothes that would fit Elliott's body, he at least found a bottle of cheap cologne, to mask the fish scent. Once he was certain he had taken enough "essentials" he could think of, he rushed over to the door where the majority of the group were waiting for the last few of them.

"Don't suppose we'll need to pay for any of this," he said, attempting his best to crack a joke as Elliott. He noticed several of the others had found backpacks or bags for themselves, but he had just stuffed everything into his pockets.

Like an idiot.

"Just wait a moment, please." he said to Briar before darting down an aisle to get a leather satchel that was slightly too small for the body of Elliott (he supposed that in hindsight it might just be an oversized handbag, but yeah), in which he stuffed the items that were uncomfortable in the pockets. "Now I'm ready."

You wish.

Queenie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

Don't suppose we'll have to pay for any of this. That guy wasn't nearly as old as he looked if that was how he delivered that line. Like some anxious middle schooler trying to break the ice. 'Elliott' was going to be frustrating, in that case.

Older-looking, taller - though, everyone was taller than Briar, 5 feet and 1 inch wasn't enough to reach the top shelf at any supermarket anywhere - and far, far more immature than Queenie. If they ran into any actual people, she'd have to compete with this doof to be seen as anything but some tiny, weirdly muscular, mildly creepy, nerd.

Great.

James nodded and stepped forward to lead the way, pausing briefly by the door, with the cover of the nearby wall to check for robots again. Even as he stepped out of the door he was searching the streets and glanced up and down just to be sure they weren't being watched or followed. There was always the possibility of cameras or people behind windows that they couldn't see, but if it was anything like that robot, and they were hostile, they needed to be ready for it.

He looked down the street at different storefronts and buildings, searching for something that might have more suitable weapons, but most of them looked like residential buildings. He nodded with his head to start walking to the left. Unless someone spotted something he didn't they had to keep looking.

Stephanie mirrored Jacob as she stepped out into the street. She glanced down the street before she had entirely left the shop, looking for any sign of more robots. She wasn't sure if she expected there to just be one or there to be more, but it just didn't sit well with her. She knew there was always more. That was how things like this always worked.

A single, non-violent robot wasn't climatic enough. All it did was provide a questionable hint that Stephanie hadn't even tried to decipher yet.

Go. Camp. Us. Go.

What did those words mean? There had to be something important about them - and the robot must have wanted them to go somewhere. That was the one part she was the most sure about; it had been insistent on the last go.

She looked down the street again.

"We should look for a store that looks for outdoor gear," she suggested. "Like Dick's Sporting Goods or Bass Pro Shops. There would probably be things we could use as weapons there."

She glanced in the direction the robot had walked off towards earlier.

"And the robot did mention camping," Stephanie pointed out. "It's our only clue so far."

As they all walked out onto the street, Lacey felt more prepared. She kind of wanted something else to come at them so she could hit it with the bat.

Then, a robot said something about camping. Lacey was okay with that. That was something her family knew a lot about. First, according to Jason, they should find a sporting goods store.

"Come on," she said, not sure why the group was just standing around. She started to walk down the street. Fuck these shoes, too, and without the stockings they were starting to rub against her feet. She needed something more comfortable. Didn't people sometimes wear flats in 1933?

Maybe there would be more appropriate clothes wherever they were going.

Kaya tapped her finger on her arm, absorbing what Jason just said. Outdoor gear because the robot mentioned camping... What could this mean? Was it telling them to make their own camp, or was it saying that they had to find a zombie camp?

She had no idea. It's not like she had any experiences with zombies or robots outside of the books she read when she was young and naive. Still, it was probably best they find outdoor gear anyways. Who knew what else will appear in this city when night fell?

"I agree," she said to Jason, deciding to just go along with it. She was about to ask if anyone saw a store like that, but then Anna started walking. Well, that answered that. Kaya briskly walked behind her, not wanting to get too close because that girl irritated her to no end. Even the way she was walking was stupid.

James noted what Jason said, still trying to decipher the cryptic message for himself, but with no luck. They just didn't have enough context to piece it together.

He followed after Anna, hurrying a little to catch up to her and match her pace while keeping his eye open for storefronts that matched Jason's description.

"Or," Queenie cut in, falling in step with the few at the lead of their group - where Briar's slight, unassuming form was painfully out of place, in Queenie's opinion - "we could find the 'camp' where the robot things are. That's what it sounded like to me. The idea that they're trying to send us camping is some nonsense."

James glanced back at Briar. “That could be what it meant, but we don’t know where to look for that either, so we’re going to have to get moving anyways.”

"Duh." She rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying that there's no logical reason they'd be in a sporting goods store. But whatever. You guys do what you like, I'll just trail behind."

If she was going to lose any authority she might have, she may as well lay the groundwork to do so with grace. Besides, she didn't know where to look either.

They walked down the street.

They passed a series of unsurprisingly closed and empty stores. They also passed a stray robot or two - ones that looked like just as much of an artificial person as the first one had - but neither robot noticed them. It was just like after the first robot had finished talking to them. If it did happen to look in their direction, it stared at a point far past where they were staring.

Still, Stephanie's hand lingered over her knife and gun the entire time they were within view of the robots.

But then their searching - and walk - was over. They arrived at a large store with no clearly identifiable name, but the contents were clear enough from the window display: sports gear, an unlit camping stove, and athletic jackets.

As Stephanie pushed the door open and stepped inside, a bell chimed.

And deep within the shop, things stirred.