As my air supply is suddenly cut off, I consider that this wasn't the kind of embrace I expected. My father's face comes toward mine, his lower jaw unhinged at an odd angle and aiming right for me. I pull my body back as far as I can with him holding me there as I try to avoid the bite.

His teeth chomp down an inch away from my nose, his spit flying out and onto my face. In case you were wondering, zombie smell has nothing on the stench of zombie breath. Even without the ability to breathe, that much was crystal clear.

Struggling against him, I bring my hands in a prayer position and not because I'm suddenly religious. I pull my clasped hands up on the inside of his outstretched arms in order for my elbows to break his chokehold. I manage it but the whole not breathing thing has me dizzy. Gasping for air, I use my hands to grab his head and push him back.

I run behind an aisle, putting a blockade between us as I manage to pull my gun back out. “Dad!” I yell. This literally can't be happening. 

“You have to recognize me! It's me, H. Don't you know me?” I beg. I feel wetness running down my cheeks and I push it away.

The thing that was once my father growls and stalks me through the aisle. I guess that answers my question.

I find myself at the end of the aisle and I feign going right then run left. My dad doesn't miss a beat and he pursues me.

He’s smarter than the other stinkers, just like Plastic Chick, the first creature who attacked me. I wonder if his body remembers any of his army training because if it does, I probably won't make it out alive. I’m great but he has more years of training and experience on me. Plus, he wants to hurt me and even now I don’t want to hurt him.

“Dad,” I try again. “Please. This isn't you. You can fight this. You have to remember.” 

I see a small freestanding newspaper cart behind me and I run toward it. 

“Remember that time when you took Mom, Justin, and me to the circus?”

Dad chases me down and I begin to wobble the cart. It’s heavier than expected but if I can push it enough I can throw it into him and get away while he's distracted.

“We sat in the front row. We got to pet the-” I get to the cart and wobble but it needs more momentum, “-elephants. Then I told you I wanted to be a flying acrobat. You told me I could be anything I wanted. That you love me. Don't you remember?” 

It’s one of my favorite memories. Justin was just a baby at the time. We were happy. Of course, it was before he shipped me off to the training camp from hell, so he didn’t really mean it, but I think at that moment he did and that’s what stuck with me. 

Before I can blink, Dad growls loudly and charges at me once more. I push the cart but he pushes it back. I scramble but I'm not quick enough and a blinding pain goes through me as I'm crushed from the chest down. 

“Dad,” I cry desperately but deep down, I know there's no mercy for me.

He pounces on top of me like an animal, digging the shelf even further into my legs. I grit my teeth and pull out my gun.

“Please,” I say one last time. I manage to lift my gun and the only place I can reach is his chest. My hand trembles wildly as I hold it there. I know I can't do this but he doesn't hesitate at all. He lets out a bellowing growl and claws at me. I feel my skin opening over my skull as he tears at me.

I try to move but can't. I already feel the blood trickle down my stinging arms. With the force of the gun I push up on his chin and knock his aviators so they’re askew.

This isn't him. His eyes are sickeningly white.

“I love you, Dad. I’m sorry,” I say with hot tears streaming down my face.

I pull the trigger.

He claws at me even harder.

“Damn it!” I yell. I pull the trigger again and again. As the fourth round pumps out, his body slumps over me.

I can't move, can't breathe and I don't want to. My father...I just...I...my brain can't even finish its thought. Tears pour down my cheeks and I just lie there. I'm unable to process what I've done. I want to curl up in a ball. I want to die. Maybe I will, I wonder absently. I'm still stuck under the cart and his body.

Suddenly I hear another door open and close. I hope it's a smart zombie that comes in and not one of the idiots. If death is coming for me I want it to come quickly even though it's no longer what I deserve.

“Angel,” a voice calls out. “Can you hear me? I'm going to pull the newsstand off you.”

I look up to see the old gas station attendant standing above me. I notice his eyes are still blue and not glaring white. So, he didn't go stinker on me yet. I guess that's good. I can't find the will to care.

He leans over, kicking my father's corpse out of the way. I hear myself whimper but I feel disconnected from it.

Then the old man tries to lift the cart. He pulls and pulls. I just lie there, staring at him. He stands back up and wheezes, grabbing onto his chest. I was already tired of watching this.

I sigh and release my gun at an awkward angle so it clatters to the floor. I’ve functioned as a hollow shell before in order to survive. I suppose I can do it again now. 

“This is ridiculous,” I say in a voice I don't even recognize. “Hold on,” I continue. I grasp the cart with both my hands and try to slide out from under it. It takes me a few tedious minutes but somehow I manage it as the old man feebly pulls at it from above.

Once I'm free, the old man stares at me. I stare back. I instantly realize this is the last place I want to be. 

“Do you have somewhere safe you can go...um...I didn't catch your name,” I say as I wipe at my blood and pick up my weapons, careful to avoid my father's body. 

I push down those thoughts and push them down hard. You can’t think about that, H, I remind myself. 

Block it out, kid. Block it out or you might as well lay back down and die, my brain repeats. I focus completely on the man in front of me like my sanity depends on it, and it does.

“It's Bill, and no, I'm afraid I don't. I live in the apartment above the store,” he points up. 

“I’ve lived here alone since my wife died. I usually do take-out. I have no food at home and I don’t have a car. The survivors ransacked the store. I can't say I blame them but I haven't wanted to move for fear of the biters. Plus, I have nowhere to go.”

I wipe at my clothes and realize it's pointless. I need another shower stat. The smell is definitely rotting away my brain cells.

“Did you think of trying a shelter, maybe?” I ask with what I think is an enormous amount of restraint on my part to hold back my sarcasm.

“You mean a deathtrap? No thank you, young lady. I’m better off out here than being herded like a sheep in there.”

I roll my eyes. Why do I bother holding back my sarcasm, I wonder?

 “You’re one of those,” I say. 

“You’re one of those people who don’t trust the government. So, where’s your tin foil hat? The aliens might be listening in, ya know.”

“Listen here, I’ve lived a long time and I’ve earned the right to be skeptical after the things I’ve seen. Why aren’t you in a shelter?” he asks as his eyes narrow on me.

Ok, so he had a point. I didn’t trust much either, especially not that Senator Cookie lady. Maybe I could use his assistance. I want Mom and Justin to know I’ll be back if they find their way to the house while I’m out. 

“I'll take you somewhere safe. It’s a secure area and it has food and weapons and is not sanctioned by the United States government. In exchange you have to look after the place while I'm gone.”

“Of course! Anything you need,” he replies. “Where will you be?” 

Oh me? I’ll be searching for my mom and brother who are most likely either dead or stinkers but if they aren’t, I get to tell them what I’ve done. 

“Don’t worry about it.” I give him a withering stare. 

“You need to do a better job of fighting off the stinkers and thieves. Can you do that, Bill?” 

“With weapons and sustenance? Absolutely.” 

“Fine. I’ll hold you to your word. Let's go now.” I wipe my brow on my arm and as I'm heading toward the door something stops me. “Do you have paper and a pen?” I ask.

Bill nods. “Behind the cash desk. In the drawer.”

I hop over the desk and get what I need. I scribble out my address and write the words, Safe haven only. Ravagers will be shot, on the top. 

A little of my blood has dripped onto the page but at least the words are clear. The blood just makes it seem like it was a blood oath but heck, I was giving these people a place to stay.

I stick the note over the three bags of raisins.

I take one last look at my father. I'll come back for you, I swear it, I vow silently.

I turn to the door and don't look back. “Come on, Bill,” I shout.

“I saw what you wrote,” he says softly. “Do you think people will come?”

I honestly didn't know but I had to try to help somehow. Finding Bill just proves that there are more of us alive out there and it was clear that the government was done trying to reach us. These people were defenseless and probably about to go hungry sooner rather than later. Like it or not us humans had to stick together if we wanted to survive this. I shrug, ignoring his question. “Come on, Bill. We've got a hot car to steal.”

Bill Stares at me in amazement. “What do you mean steal?”

I smirk and shrug. “Just what I said,” I say as I keep on walking. I take a last look at my black beauty. “I’ll never forget you!” I scream at her direction and Bill laughs.

We walk for a good 15 minutes till I see a parking lot with a good number of cars. “Can we please take a break, H? I'm too old for this.”

I stare at him and laugh. It's a hollow laugh but it's hard to feel anything at the moment. “We’re almost there but stay here and I’ll go get something nice.”

He stares at me as he hunches over, hands on knees, and begins huffing for air like we just ran a marathon.

 “Okay. Sounds great!” He puts his thumb up and I walk away.

I look through the parking lot trying to find something but so far nothing is worthy of me putting my butt on the driver’s seat. I keep on walking until I stumble upon a white BMW M3. Holy mother of cake, I think my heart just healed from my Mustang.

I run to it, gun in hand, just in case there's a stinker inside. I reach the M3 and go for the door. Yes! It's open!

I look around the car to see if the keys are inside or if a stinker had them. 

Nothing. Just my luck these days. Some stinker out there was a real bastard.

Thank God I’m the most amazing person in the world because I would’ve been screwed with a major S. I look for the wiring under the steering wheel. I finally locate the wiring harness connector. I pull aside the battery and ignition wire bundle. Then I strip about 1 inch from the battery wires and twist them together. I connect the ignition wire to the battery wire and BOOM! The baby comes to life.

 “Yes!” I sigh aloud and put the baby in reverse.

I belatedly hope a stinker hasn’t gotten to Bill because that would’ve made me a horrible babysitter or in this case old man-sitter.

I see Bill still trying to catch some air. I honk at him and watch him react like he’s having a heart attack and is about to die on me, which by the way, is hilarious. 

“Get in. We don’t have a lot of time. I don’t want to be out here while it’s dark.”

He opens the door and gets in. His eyes flick over the ignition in surprise. “H, how did you turn on the car if you don’t have the keys?”

I glance in his direction and lock the doors. “Bill, sorry to tell you but I’m a convict. I escaped during the outbreak and this gave me a chance to be free.” I smile brightly.

His eyes get so big I swear to God they’re going to fall out.

“I’m kidding. Jesus. Don’t die on me.” I turn back to him quickly. “But seriously, don’t worry about it.” I put my eyes back on the road and speed away.

We finally get home, passing the same teenage stinkers on the corner. I wave as we go by and they snap their jaws. Bill shrinks himself down in his seat and looks at me like I'm deranged. He’s probably not wrong but he has no room to judge. On the way here, Bill filled me in on what he’d seen since the attacks.

The day after the bomb sirens, tanks led by the armed services began filling the streets picking up survivors to bring to shelters and clearing the roads of any cars or blockages. Bill said they came into his home to collect him but he saw them coming and he hid downstairs in the store. I told him that was insane but he didn’t seem to hear me.   

He also heard the ravagers that ransacked the gas station two days ago. That was the last he’d seen of anyone. The men and women came in with weapons so he stayed hidden. They were saying they’d been to Reagan airport but all the planes were either gone or damaged. The airport itself was filled with people infected with the virus. 

They said the union station was overrun with the virus too. The walls were preventing them from getting out. He didn’t know what happened to them after they left. The only thing he knew was that when he got hungry earlier today he risked getting bitten by going to the frozen aisle for food. They caught him and that’s when according to him I saved the day, or whatever.      

I park the car on the driveway and manage to turn it off. “Wait here, Bill,” I say, taking out my gun and walking towards my house.

I know there’s nothing wrong but it doesn’t hurt to be safe. Plus, I have this stupid hope that Mom or Justin will be there. 

I open the door and make sure the house is empty. I try not to attach any emotion to the fact that it is. I come outside and see Bill sitting in the car. “Come in, Bill,” I shout.

He walks over. “I seriously need to get you some clothes and you need a shower,” I mutter. Bill follows me over to the bunker and I show him the complicated way to get in. I give him one of the spare rooms that are down here and tell him to wait as I head upstairs to find him some clothes.

I go up to my parent’s room and stand right in front of their closet. With shaking hands, I open my dad’s side. I search blindly through the clothes because all I can think of is his lifeless body on the ground with those white eyes.

I killed my father. I didn’t have much of a choice and I know him, I know he wouldn’t want to live like that but still, that was my dad. I just have to live with it somehow. I don’t know how I’ll deal if Mom or Justin were bitten. 

I needed to find them. I grab a bundle of clothes that look like they would fit Bill and run downstairs.

I really can’t bear the memory of my dad and the fact I killed him. I renew my vow to go back and give him a proper burial. I open the bunker and find Bill immediately. He’s just where I left him. He’s got this constant deer in the headlights look that almost makes me want to laugh.

“Here you go,” I say, throwing the clothes on his small bed and then moving to leave. 

“H, that man you killed at the gas station, did you know him?” his voice asks curiously as it follows me.

I feel hot tears starting to form in my eyes. I don’t dare turn around to face him. “I don’t want to talk about this,” I say and walk out.