UNITY

Chapter 2

I know that statement could cost me my life as movie MC's usually do encounter problems when they utter those words, and heck, maybe I was hoping it would. But I'm bored out of my mind and need some type of excitement once in a while.

I gestured for Tootsie to sit outside and bark quietly if she's seen someone suspicious.

I pushed open the glass doors to see... well, nothing. Nothing except littered newspapers and money on the ground. As the apocalypse progressed, I could confidently say that we've gone back to before Christ was even born in terms of the currency system we have today. Bartering and trading was now prominent, as having cash is as useful as a screen door is on a submarine.

I crinkled my nose as the air smelled like stale copper and wine, it made my grip on the bat tighter as I trudged quietly inside. I might be insane if I did this, but might as well take care of the problem here than face them later.

I whistled.

And it did not disappoint. Because in one of the aisles, particularly the junk food aisle, there was a zombie, a slender girl maybe my age with curly hair and a red tank top, her midriff exposing a large bite.

I got ready to swing.

This girl really looked familiar. I think she's my neighbor that I see every time I water the plants outside? She rarely goes out, and we rarely see each other, but maybe she got out hours before me and tried to loot the store but got bit in the process.

I sighed. What a pity.

Perhaps it's because she's a newly-turned zombie and rigor mortis haven't set in yet, but she was able to sprint towards me in full vigor as if she was a track athlete running for 1st place in a running race.

If she was running like she was in a race, I was trying out for the baseball team. I swung, hard. I almost knocked her head off if it weren't for her being freshly turned into a zombie. And because of this, I find it difficult to hit her head again and again with my baseball bat.

There is this thing called Pacifism, where a person is reluctant to harm people? Ever since I was young, I didn't think that violence was the answer to resolve conflicts. Up until now, I can feel that reluctance to harm other people. It's like throwing punches at someone, but the punches are subdued, almost as if you were pulling back, but you really want to harm said person and yet, your brain is telling you not to? Bottom line, your punches aren't as strong as what you wanted them to be, and it is happening right now.

Once I saw that she's not moving, getting in a last hit to make sure, I went and got myself a water bottle from the ground. Don't worry, it's sealed and unopened.

I know, I know. How could I, a woman who has never killed a person before, be okay with drinking water after I bashed someone's head in, much less my neighbor?

Simple. It's because I've killed before. It wasn't that eventful; it was just gross. My maid got bit, and I had to unalive her because I knew what was happening even before she did. All I did was vomit for a while, then I was good.

Ethical dilemma be damned, it's killed or be killed in these situations.

But that doesn't mean I don't dream about her every now and again. This one, my neighbor, who I think her name was Anne, is going to be joining my nightmares soon.

So, Anne, rest in peace.

If you're going to heaven, at least. But if you're not, well... sucks for you, but rest in peace nonetheless.

I thought the store was now empty given that I killed the only zombie I saw, but I was wrong. A convenience store clerk was shambling towards me with his arms reaching out, trying to grab me.

I grunted as I hit his, I mean, its head too. No use using pronouns on these things, since they're already dead.

Do they still use those pronoun thingies? She/her, they/them, he/him, etc.?

Damn, I feel old. It doesn't matter anymore, though.

I hit its head for the third time, getting confident with my whacks as I did so.

God, I hope that's all the zombies there are.

And what do you know, I didn't get any zombie brains on me!

Yay for little things!

I sighed, but this time, in relief. But fuck, the smell, ew!

I pinched my nose as I went farther away from the two corpses, focusing on going to the staff room to look for an exit, and there was.

Now that I've got two exit routes I can take if I needed a quick getaway, I went to looting.

Strangely enough, the alcohol section still has... well, alcohol in them. Aside from a few broken wine bottles that are strewn on the ground. Hm, I wonder why many people opted to drink wine instead of alcohol. Personal preference, I guess? A bottle of Jack Daniel's caught my eye, and I almost yelped as I almost slipped on a gin bottle.

Note to self: Watch your step.

I grinned as I took the Jack Daniel's off the shelf. Who knows? Maybe I'm going to need this someday, drinking my sorrows before getting eaten by those freaks outside when I get tired of life.

Yeah, no. Let's not get suicidal here. The population has already decreased massively, I'm not going to be one of those that takes the easy way out. Instead, I'm going to be one of the lucky ones to repopulate it.

Damn, I'm horny.

Focus!

Alright, got the JD, get some non-perishables that I'm surprised no one prioritized on getting, and a few water bottles in my bag for the journey.

I'm ready to go.

As if on cue, Tootsie barked outside. Multiple times.

She wants to come inside. That means whatever is outside, it's too big for me to ignore.

I went to the glass door and wasted no time ushering her in.

"Come inside," I whispered.

I tinkered with the lock mechanism of the glass doors, locking it in time to see the threat outside.

Another fucking horde?!?!

This only solidified what I already knew.

The zombies are migrating.