Collapse: Chapter 3

THREE

The supermarket, miraculously, had not run dry yet. At least, the store rooms hadn’t. Most people seemed to give the aisles a cursory look and then move on to greener pastures, and for the past two years, Seth had managed to live off of the storage areas of the various shops near his apartment. That wasn’t to say that they were safe. Far from it. Several times he’d had close encounters with other survivors, and several times he’d been in situations where it was kill or be killed. Luckily, he’d always managed to come out on top, but he knew that one day his luck would run out.

So even as Seth approached the familiar supermarket on the corner of Garrett Street, which he had visited countless times, he was still on edge. He crouched low to the ground, checking windows, treading softly and listening intently for any sounds. He always made sure to keep his avenues of escape clear, so that he could flee at the first sign of trouble. This time, he had brought a hammer with him, which he held in his right hand. The encounter with Machete had been too close for his liking. He chastised himself again for being stupid enough not to have taken a weapon out that day. Safety always trumped travelling light.

Before too long, he was at the door. Or at least, what used to be the door. Now it hung off it’s hinges, rusted, the glass panes smashed. The metal was twisted and broken. Scars such as these were everywhere now. You could hardly find a street which wasn’t adorned by the burned out husk of some building or other. Many were littered with abandoned cars, and near the population centres skeletons could even be found, lying in the open.

Slowly, Seth stepped inside. The supermarket was totally silent, and every step he took echoed eerily. He stood on a shard of glass, which cracked underfoot. He froze, his eyes darting around. When he heard nothing, he let his guard down slightly, straightening up and walking at a more brisk pace. He meandered through the aisles, heading for the back. The stink of rot pervaded the place, partly from spoiled meat, partly from the corpses which lay here and there.

Seth swallowed. He was sure some of these hadn’t been here before.

His throat was dry as he pushed into the storeroom. He began to wish that he had brought what was left of the water with him. This morning, he had eaten the rest of the can of peaches and drunk a gulp of water, leaving the rest at the apartment. At least, if he failed here, he’d have something to go back to. The only light shone in narrow beams through the small windows, meaning that a lot of the place was almost pitch black. As quietly as he could, Seth crept over to the shelves and began to search.

He found three cans of food before he heard the sound.

He jumped, looking around nervously. It sounded again. A small scraping noise, like someone taking food off of a shelf. He wasn’t alone.

As hastily and quietly as he could, Seth delved deeper. A few cans wasn’t enough to last him a week on a full stomach. He’d have to go hard or go home. He heard footsteps nearby. Only one set. More confident, he continued. He was pretty sure he could outfight whoever was in here with him, if it came to it. Besides, they didn’t exactly sound like they were spoiling for a fight. They were being almost as careful as he was.

Unless they were Twisted.

His breath caught in his throat. He’d never seen any signs of a Twisted den before in here, but it was entirely plausible that one had got caught at daybreak and sought shelter in the supermarket. He thought about them unwillingly. He’d heard several accounts of the Twisted, all different from each other. Some said they were mutated, monstrous animals, huge dogs and carnivorous bats. Others said they were people, their bodies wracked by some mysterious plague. He wasn’t sure which he believed. Perhaps both were true. Perhaps neither.

Perhaps... Visiting another shop wasn’t such a bad idea.

He turned towards the exit, only to be greeted by a form silhouetted against a beam of light.

“Don’t fucking move,” came a woman’s voice, “I have a gun.”

Seth cursed under his breath. He could hardly believe how unlucky he was being. Two guns in as many days? He wasn’t sure if he believed her.

Best to play it safe, though.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “we can talk about this.”

“Ain’t nothing to talk about.” The voice replied.

“You sure?” Seth asked, trying to bargain, “We could share whatever’s in here. I don’t mind.”

“You aren’t in a position to be bargaining. Put down the hammer.”

Sighing, Seth obliged. The woman gave a grunt of approval.

“Now put your hands up.” Seth put his hands up.

“Please, ma’am. I’m running low. Just let me take what I’ve got and I’ll be on my way.” He said, taking a step towards her. She took a step back.

“Stay right there,” she yelled, “or I’ll blow you away!”

Blow you away? Seth thought. Who the hell talked like that? He took another step forwards. He knew he was pushing his luck, but this woman spoke like a fake. She stepped back again.

“Stay right the fuck back!” She shouted again. She was in a beam of light now, and Seth could see her. He could see the gun. It was a pistol, and it looked loaded. She wasn’t a fake, after all.

He looked at her. Her skin was pale and her features were gaunt. She was tall, just a bit shorter than him he guessed. Her auburn hair drooped over her face in an unkempt mess, and her green eyes were full of fire. There was something else about her, too... He looked again at the gun, licking his dry lips.

“Throw me your backpack,” she commanded. Seth laughed.

“I’d love to, but... Your safety’s on.”

He darted forwards, closing the distance between them in a few short steps. She pulled the trigger, but the gun just clicked. Screaming, she attempted to bring the butt of the pistol down on his head, but he grabbed her wrist before the blow connected. He drove his elbow hard into her stomach. She grunted, the wind knocked out of her. Seth pried the pistol from her grip and hit her across the face with it. The woman fell to the floor.

Seth pointed the gun at her, turning off the safety. She skittered back until she was lying against a shelf.

“Safety’s off. We’re playing for keeps, now,” Seth said. She gulped, glaring at him angrily. Already, a bruise was appearing over her cheekbone.

“Fuck you.”

Seth laughed. “I’m guessing you’ve got some ammo for this thing?”

She nodded.

“How much?”

“Nine clips.”

Seth grinned. “Slide them to me.” The woman did nothing, her chest heaving with nervous breaths. Seth waited for a few seconds, then said impatiently, “I haven’t got all day.”

“Please, sir. You’ve got a choice.” She said simply.

“Damn right I’ve got a choice! I could either shoot you and take the ammo, or I could take the ammo and let you live. I’m just trying to be civil, miss.” Seth said, an edge of anger creeping into his voice.

“Civil?” She cried, “You’re pointing a fucking gun at me!”

“So were you.” He retorted. She sighed irritably.

“The safety was off, I wasn’t actually gonna shoot you.”

“Well, I am. So give me the ammo.” There was another moment of tense silence. Then she spoke again.

“Come on, sir. I’m not gonna live without that gun.” She swallowed. “I have a little girl.”

The colour drained from Seth’s face. What if she did? If he took a gun and found her desecrated corpse in the street later on, he’d never be able to forgive himself. The faceless girl would plague him for the rest of his life. But if she was lying and he gave her the gun back, she could blow his brains out there and then.

“Bullshit,” he said finally, “Give me the ammo.”

“Show some humanity, sir!”

Seth snapped. “You know what? I’m fucking done with humanity. You see those corpses back there?” He gestured back to the supermarket, “People who show humanity, they end up like that. Give me the goddamn ammo. I know one too many people who has died because they showed fucking humanity. I will not ask again. I will shoot you. Give me the fucking clips.”

The woman had recoiled further during his outburst. With shaking hands, she reached into her backpack, sliding the nine clips across the floor to him without a word.

“Thank you,” he said curtly, calming himself down. He crouched, placing them in his own backpack.

Then something connected with his neck.

A horrible sound, a mixture of buzzing and ringing, filled his ears. He let out an involuntary yell, his body spasming, then collapsed. The sound stopped, and all he could hear was the dim ringing, and his own ragged breathing. Then the sound started again, and his world went black.

Seth opened his eyes, his body aching. He was sprawled on the ground, his head lying in a puddle of his own spittle and vomit. He sat up with some effort, rubbing his head. She’d tazed him! How could he have been so stupid? Why hadn’t he checked her for any hidden weapons?

He heard voices in the back. A group of them. He listened hard. He guessed about four, though there could have been more.

He cursed vehemently, then frantically searched for his backpack, wiping his face clean from vomit with the sleeve of his shirt. He found it eventually, lying abandoned a few meters from him. He rifled through it. Empty. The bitch had taken everything. He looked up and down the aisles. Even his hammer.

Everything was gone, and there was a group of people, probably hostile, between him and freedom.