The harsh sun beat down on the ruined badlands. An intense heat wave roared, propelling sand and dirt as a motorcycle sped along the deserted highway. The rider, clad in torn and tattered clothes stared cautiously along the desert, being watchful for any sign of movement. Any sign of danger. The biker spotted a building ahead. It was old and caked with sand and debris. A sign stood tall welcoming visitors, but the wear of the storms made it illegible to passersby.

Figuring it a decent place to scavenge, the motorist veered off of the endless road. The engine came to a sputtering halt as the mysterious rider made it to the abandoned gas station. A few moments later, a second motorcyclist arrived parking next to the first.

Off of it was a cloth-masked figure. The only designing features were her wild brunette hair flowing out of the back of her helmet, and a set piercing gray eyes. Eyes so powerful, a person could crumble by just a glare. The women stared at the first biker. “Wile,” She pointed the way the two of them came. The winds were rampaging in the far off distance. Neither the path they came nor the way they were going was visible, being blanketed in the dunestorm. “The dust bowl is getting worse. We need to take shelter.”

The man, Wile nodded in agreement. He pulled off the scarf protecting his face from the rays of the sun to reveal his dirt tracked face. His hair was messily short and a heavy black beard disguised the fact he was barely an adult. The two dismounted from their bikes. With weapons in their hands, they warrily took shelter within the decrepit building.

They entered the store slowly, the woman holding out a spiked bat. Wile readied his gun in case anything attacked. It was evident that when the apocalypse started, the place was left to disrepair. There was a stagnant, foul odor from rotted food and long decaying bodies. Aisles of expired snacks littered the store, and everything over the counter was already pillaged from previous scavengers. There were fresh signs that someone was here recently, but the deathly quiet was evidence that there was nothing but them for miles. If it wasn’t for the storm, the pair would agree there was nothing for them here, and it would be best to leave the place immediately. For now, they were safe.

The two set up camp within the building, lighting a fire out of broken debris and found some half-decent food. The woman stared out to the howls of sand outside. “The storm should last the night, we should take turns keeping watch.”

“I’ll take first watch Kris, You get some rest.” Wile cradled his loaded shotgun on his shoulder. He was barely drinking age, but with a gun in his hand, he looked as strong as any survivor on the badlands.

Hesitant to leave this rookie to rest, she knew fatigue would overcome her soon. “I’ll leave it to you, wake me up if you sense anything…” With that, she placed her signature bat upon a wall and closed her eyes to rest.

With his partner now in a quiet slumber, Wile was left to himself. He stared out into the storm. From the raging wind, he could hear the bellows of something far off. Wile wondered to himself what dangers could be outside in the storm. He had seen some terrifying beings since the apocalypse spread throughout the land, but he wondered if anything could possibly survive in that mess of gales.

He looked into the burning embers of the dying fire. The last remnants of kindling crackled do black charcoal. He thought of his past life, the childhood he was forced to leave behind. Before anything bad, he lived happily with his family. It’s been twelve years since then. As much as he tried, the faces of his parents faded from his mind. All his memories drifted in and out like blips, sometimes he could remember the good times, sometimes he just remembered the horrors. It made him feel a desperate loneliness. There were missing pieces in the puzzle of his mind, only remembering the emotions of happiness he felt back then.

Then it all changed when the bombs were dropped. An experiment by the president he said, a tool to control the harsh storms recently plaguing the country. In reality, it released the toxic airborne viruses that killed half of the country’s population. The last of the living were considered lucky, in the case that the airborne viruses seemed to not affect them. Just as the remaining people believed the worst was over, was when they appeared.

Wile didn’t realize he was dozing into his thoughts until he heard a loud crash. He stood up quickly, looking for the source of the noise. He heard another ominous sound, a moan, coming from the backroom of the store. He knew that alien noise meant one thing, danger.

Wile went over to his partner. He shook her awake, “Kris, wake up. Wake up!” She jolted to life, lifting her hand to his mouth as another moan filled the air. She stared into my eyes and they both nodded in agreement. The storm continued to stir outside, leaving them with one option.

She gripped her weapon tightly in her hand as she led their way toward the distressing noise. Standing outside of the doors, she slowly gripped the handle of the door and forced it open. As the light illuminated the room, they saw a horror.

Within the room was a large humanoid monster. Its pale rotted skin was blotched with red pustules. It had milky white eyes, caught in focus eating its prey. Under the creature seemed to be the remnants of the last patron to this gas station. It was a bloody carnage few would fathom if the world wasn’t plunged into a dystopia. But these things- these undead beings that generated from those who died in the virus. Unable to think, only able to hunt and kill, zombie was the best way to describe these predators of the apocalypse.

Kris sprang to action swinging her bat into the gluttonous creature. The spiked weapon dug itself into the monster, it let out an enraged howl. Taking its attention from the corpse it swung an arm towards Kris. The zombie's movements were inorganic. She stepped out of the way, giving me a perfect straight shot to fire three rounds into its bulging sides. Black puss spewed out the wounds and it bellowed in agony.

From her holster, Kriss pulled a revolver and fired another shot into its head. As the bullet marked between the creature's eyes, it fell to the ground, pussing but silent. It landed upon the body of the wayward traveler that fell into its territory, unknowingly keeping the beast at bay as Kris and Wile sat no more than twenty feet away. Without him, the zombie would for sure have realized their presence.

There was a dull moment of peace as the two stared at the horrid sight. Neither of them knew what to do except move on. Wile winced as Kris reclaimed her bat from the zombie’s head, yanking it and causing more putrid liquids to spill onto the tiled ground. She rested her prized weapon on her shoulder and never looked back. “Let’s go.”

Wile couldn’t release his eyes from the two still beings left in front of him. This disgusting abandoned place was their final resting place. The image made his mind spiral, it made him feel everything wrong about this ruined world. Scavenging, trying to survive in a wasteland of brainless monsters and harsh weather. This isn't living, this was holding on until the last of the humans died off. The two decaying figures were just an example of how the shamble of this world will never be the same.

“Wile, I said let’s go!” Kris didn’t like to think about the inevitability of this world. You could tell from her somber-ridden eyes that she didn’t care about how pointless dystopia was. The only thing that mattered was she was alive, she could still fight.

His eyes took one last long look at the zombie and his prey before Wile shut the door. “Coming.” Outside of the battered windows, the storm had subsided. Intense winds continued to shuffle the desert sand but the weather was at least bearable to continue their trek back to the camp.

They prepared their bikes for the road, taking any equipment they could scour within the gas station. With a last somber look at the petrol shop, Wile followed his partner back onto the desolate highway, with new perspective weighing down his mind.