World of the Dead

More Bad News

Quinn stayed in the same position until she had cried out all her tears and the headache from crying had faded into a dull throb. The rubber mat she was laying on smelled like dirt and faintly of soap that had been splashed many times over the years from the sink above her head used for cleaning the food trays.

She stared listlessly at the plastic container that contained the Windex and cleaning rags, her mind numb. It felt kind of nice to have all of her thoughts slow down to a sluggish pace for a while. It gave her some peace despite all the chaos that had been going down lately. But the stab of pain in her skull that occurred when she moved her head slightly reminded her that she had more problems than the zombies eating people outside. Her head and her mouth were beginning to really hurt now that she wasn't in a state of shock.

Alright girl, ya gotta get up and see if you're gonna die or not.

Slowly dragging herself up to her feet and wincing as her stiff limbs protested being moved, Quinn started towards the employee bathroom. It was a one-person restroom which she had always liked. The smell of the cheap air freshener assaulted her nose, making her cringe. While it worked, the smell of overly sweet chemicals never appealed to her. Plus, the little mechanism that periodically released the smell was loud and always startled her.

After closing and locking herself in the dark room, she instinctively reached for the light switch and flicked it up. To her delight and surprise, the light popped on. The power must still be working then she thought happily. Her joy was short lived though, when she saw herself in the mirror.

 Quinn's clothes were filthy, splattered with blood and smeared with dust. There was a hole where that zombie had tried to bite through her pants, but her jacket seemed fine. Her blue hair was a mess of tangles, making her wish that she had been able to tie it up when the evacuation had started. Her green eyes were bloodshot, and her face was caked in dirt and dried blood, which she hoped was hers and didn't belong to the dead man that had pinned her down in the truck or her mother's. The thought made her gag; she hated the sight of other blood, her own or other people's. But given the cuts and bruises on her face, she could safely assume it was hers. Her lip was busted, and when she moved her tongue over her teeth, she realized with a jolt of horror that one of the front ones was loose. She wondered how she hadn't noticed when she was eating but chalked it up to being hungry and full of adrenaline. 

The first source of pain being fairly simple and easy to manage -just don't mess with the tooth to much- now she needed to figure out how bad her head was. What were the signs of a concussion again? Dilated pupils and a headache? While her head hurt like a bitch, that was probably due to the fact she hit it hard. And other than her eyes being red and puffy, they looked normal. Vomiting might also be one she remembered, but since she hadn't done that either she should be fine. She reached up to the part of her head that hurt the most and felt it. There was a large bump but no blood. That had to be at least an okay sign, right?

Didn't matter. She was able to walk and run and think, so things were probably fine with her brain. To take her mind off things, she tried the faucet. Cold, clean water poured out. Bending down over the sink, she splashed the water on her face, washing away the grime. It was one of the few normal things that she had done that day, and it comforted her. Since she was already there, she decided to use the toilet as well. After washing her hands, she left the bathroom, feeling refreshed and a bit more at ease.

It was the little things that made everything seem at least a little less awful.

Scooping up the remaining bags of nuts and the last two water bottles, Quinn began to think. She needed a plan. While the store was slightly safer than outside, she knew that eventually someone or something would change that. With only the wrench she didn't like her chances.