When I stepped inside, the isles were wrecked, and items were strewn across the floor. There were streaks of dried blood everywhere, and the room smelled of rotting flesh. I plugged my nose and sucked in a deep breath. It took a lot of willpower not to gag.

I walked forward, shuddering at the horrid sight. Bloody hand prints were wiped across the walls, and half-eaten bodies were scattered on the floor, their skin turned a repulsive green. Some didn't turn when they were bitten, I don't know why and honestly I don't plan to find out. I looked away from their faces, hoping I didn't recognize any.

I unzipped my bag as quietly as I could, shoving a few loaves of stale bread and rolls into it. They were definitely expired, but it's not really like I had a choice. With the bread, I also added a few more energy bars, thank god there was something left in this dump. There was probably a reason this place was so well stocked, the pungent smell in the air gave an obvious hint. A horde most likely but they seemed to be out at the moment, lucky for me I guess.

I turned around to leave, when I saw it, the pharmacy desk. Medicine was a rare thing to find, but I didn't want to risk it. I huffed out a frustrated breath, there could be something there, the glass seemed intact behind the counter so it didn't seem ransacked yet. I stepped forward, but felt the uncomfortable feeling of stepping on rotting, soft flesh. I gagged silently before continuing my tiptoeing through the mess.

Fat chance there was anything useful here, but I always keep my fingers crossed just in case. I leaned over the desk and cringed as I saw bones on the other side. Past the locked sheet of glass there lay an almost skin free corpse. They must have died in there well before things got bad, probably locked themselves in, couldn't find a way out around the horde, and starved to death. Most people did in the beginning. Hell I might in a few weeks. Michigan was cold in the fall, but it got a fuck ton colder in the winter.

I could see the key on a shelf well behind the desk, no luck there. I could smash the glass, but that ran the risk of drawing attention. Fuck it. I lined the butt of my lacrosse stick towards the glass, pulling back to ram it home. Nothing. Not even a small crack. Thinking back, duh, that glass held against a horde, clearly it can withstand a puny blow from my non-existent upper-body muscles. Okay, so that's not gonna work, maybe there's a door around the side? I was spit-balling at this point. Circling the counter I came across a door.

"Please, if there is someone, anyone out there, please let this door be unlocked." I whispered to myself. Trying the handle, the door didn't budge. Yeah, I thought so. Okay, so maybe I could kick it? Sure, the best I got so far. I stood back a little and bent my knee up to my chest.

Okay judging by the humid air and the amount of time the door has been left untouched, the lock should be pretty rusty but now. I just had to kick about an inch below the handle and it should give out. A clean kick too otherwise I could break my ankle and I didn't want to have to set that back into place myself. I could already hear the sickening crunch of bone, bleugh. Yeah, no thanks.

Pursing my lips and taking a deep breath, I jabbed my leg forwards. A loud crack echoed through the empty store as the busted handle gave way, the creaking door swinging open. Okay, well that went a lot smoother than expected. I reached forward, fingers sliding across the rough metal and pushing it out of the way.

A soft draft blew past, whisking up the stench of rotting flesh from the massacre around me. I swallowed thickly and walked around behind the counter. Contrary to my inference, there was not a plethora of medicine, just my luck. Only a few bottles littered the floor and shelves, most likely empty. Picking up a few, I shook them, waiting for the familiar sound of rattling pills. No luck. I thought about leaving, but there were still bottles left and I wasn't in a rush.

Jack shit though, the strewn bottle danced across the grey carpeted floor in my wake, the caps getting caught on the loose threads and snags in the rug. Empty, they're all empty. Screw the inference that the skeleton died, they probably popped as many pills as they could thinking that this was a better way to go than being eaten alive. Spoiler, they were right. I thought about it before but could never find enough pills to see it through. I didn't want to, but some days it was better to think about what could happen after death rather than what would happen tomorrow.

I stood up, resting my palms on my knees in a hunched position and sighed. I didn't expect much, but this was below the bottom line. It smelled like shit and it was boiling in this backroom so getting out was moved to the top of the priority list. Not to mention the uncomfortable atmosphere of death that loomed over the place and the horror movie fear that one of the rotting bodies was about to stand up and attack me from behind. Actually, now that I think about that, it was a perfectly rationalized fear.

Standing up fully I stretched, my back was stiff from being hunched on the floor, maybe from sleeping on it for the past years too. There was so much dust in the air that my eyes started to water and my rapid blinking was an unnerving distraction considering the predicament I was in. Centered in a hoard nest looking through empty prescription bottles with my back turned to the door.

With the load on my back, I started to make my way out of the store. I swear it smelled even more putrid as I walked past the greenish flesh a second time. My hand was pressed to the cool glass of the exit as a low groan came from behind me. Fuck, see? Fear: rationalized. My heart plummeted, I knew that groan. That unmistakable, annoyingly consistent sound of a hungry body. I turned my head, my breath hitching when I looked into dead eyes.

It stalked towards me and I froze, unable to peel my eyes away from its ghastly towering features. Its face was sunken in, eyes unfocused, it was most likely blind. Its mouth twitched and drooled as if craving something, anything, me. The smell of its rotting body made my stomach churn and it was all I could do not to vomit then and there. Its nails were dark and bloody, discolored from insufficient blood flow.

It trudged closer, one foot dragging behind it, bone sticking out through yellowed muscle. I saw its skin close enough to notice that it was falling apart. It was flaking away from muscle and bone. I saw everything that I never wanted to see. In that instant, somehow, my body found itself and I discovered how to move again. I pressed against the door exhaling in relief that it pushed open. Thank god for two way swinging doors.

Untucking the second shoulder strap over my arm and swinging the pack to my front, I shimmied through the small crack in the door, careful not to make it creak. As the zombie continued to shuffle across the floor, its injured leg got caught on a stray arm hanging into the aisle from under the dividing shelves. It stumbled forward, towards me, hands first. Great. I shoved past the door, ignoring the stealth I tried to use, as the door let out a high pitched whine.

The cold morning air coursed through my lungs and dried my already parched throat as I ran. My heart was beating so fast, I was scared it would lead the zombie right to me. That, or it would burst out of my chest. Both options sounded rather unappealing. I ran until I couldn't see the smudged glass and grimy bloodstains of the corner store. I let my hands rest on my knees as I took two deep breaths. In through my nose, out through my mouth. After wiping away the beads of sweat on my forehead I analyzed my situation. Not good.

The blood pounding in my head made my ears stuffy from the pressure and my temples felt like they were being pounded upon by the blunt end of a heavy anything. It was still early and most of the air was filled with a thick fog that made me anxious. There weren't many ways I could run too, I wasn't familiar with this town and I certainly wouldn't be able to make my way back to the house I was previously staying in.

Looking for the nearest escape, I booked it into the alley across from me. I had my arms stretched out in front of me as I ran. If this path led to a dead end I wanted a bit of warning before colliding with a brick wall. A broken wrist was much better than an open head wound in my opinion. The lingering hoard had to be around here somewhere, rarely do they just pick up and leave.

My pace picked up and I thanked everyone and anyone when I saw a dim shine of a dying street light on the other side of the alley. I swung a hard right turn down another alley but cursed when I faced a wall. Okay, it was expected but I had really wished it split somewhere. Why make an alley if it just deadened anyways?

"Shit," I mumbled under my breath. I gripped the wooden stick so hard that my knuckles began to turn white. There was no way that the stumbler from the corner store had followed me that quickly, but I wasn't exactly silent in my haste to escape. I turned around to face the entrance of the alley, just one zombie, I could do that.

I took big gulps of air, hoping that it would give me more confidence, but the jittery feeling in my stomach wouldn't go away. Through the mist, a shadow stalked towards me, great, this was it. But, just as confidence was starting to shine through my fear, a second shape joined it. And another, and another, and so many more I lost count. Okay...so, less great.

Holy crap, this was it, I was going to die right here. In this sketchy back alley of a town that I'd never been to because of a careless mistake and an empty run at the most fucked up corner store I'd seen since I was in high school. I backed up farther as the decaying monsters stumbled closer until my back was firm against the wall. The cool brick warmed my heaving, sweaty body as I sent myself into a panic. I'm sorry, Dale, there was nothing I could do, but at least I wouldn't be alone anymore.

I sank to my knees, cowering in the corner, holding my lacrosse stick over myself for protection. My breath grew shallow and came out in shaky exhales. I squeezed my eyes, trying to wake up from this horrible nightmare, god I wish it was. I looked up and saw the slow creatures lurching forward. No, this wouldn't be the end, not for me. I stood up, planting my feet in a fighting stance, holding my stick out in front of myself. Screw it, what do I have to lose?