Taylor is a college student home alone when the outbreak hits her small town. One minute she is working on a project, the next she is hiding away from the monsters outside. Taylor will have to find it in her to survive until her parents can -hopeful...
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They were safe inside, the garage doors are made to last through a lot. It would probably take driving one of the fire trucks through one to break it. There are windows on the first floor, but iron bars run through the thick glass, and they only open from the inside. They even had a roof they could look down onto the zombies from, too bad they didn't have weapons. And I'm not sure how I'd get them weapons.
..wait.
An idea runs through my head as I run to my car. I start it up as soon as I get into it, then take off down the street, then turn left to the west. Towards a small shop specializing in hunting gear, everything but guns, they do have bows and arrows. Dad would take me there often for arrow making supplies, but it's a thirty-minute drive.
At least it used to be a thirty-minute drive. Our little town was surrounded by forest and farmland, the highway that ran right through our town didn't have too many cars on it outside of the town. Once I hit the border of the town the cars thinned. I made an almost thirty-minute drive in ten because I was able to just speed down the highway. The small cabin of a house is on a small road just off of the highway, then down a small gravel drive. If you weren't from here, you'd probably never notice it through the trees.
Pulling up I grab my bow before hopping out of the car. I move up to the wooden door that was normally open before I hear the shuffling of gravel. Spinning I have my bow ready to just be met with another bow aimed right at me. For a few heartbeats, I think I might faint. Until I look at the person holding the bow and let out a sigh of relief.
"Taylor?" The older man says lowering his bow. I lower mine, he brushes a hand over his unruly gray beard, a confused look on his perpetually red face. "What'chu doing here?"
I hold up my bow to show him and wiggle it a little. "I need more arrows."
There was something in me that didn't want to divulge everything going on. Randy was friends with my dad, not good friends but they chatted every time we came up here. He's older than my dad by at least ten years, and a foot shorter, making him just a inch or two taller than myself. He does make it up in his shoulder width though, he had to have been a football player in high school. Now he had a big beer belly, thick arms, and grubby fingers. He managed to be great with a bow still though.
"Come on in then." He turns to trudge into the store. I followed behind him, the lights weren't on, the only lighting coming from the windows and a single large camping light on the counter.
"No power?" I ask.
I see his shoulder shrug as he moves over to the counter. "Turned off 'bout ten minutes ago, I was out back fixin' up the generator when I heard the car."
I hope that didn't mean power would also be out at my house. This place is farther out, maybe it was on a different power grid or whatever. I move over to the counter, placing my own bow on it. When I turn he's looking over at my quiver, frowning. "You shouldn't be usin' wooden arrows."
"I didn't want to chance losing my carbon ones."
"I have more carbon ones that'll fit." He says turning towards where he had all of them. I follow a few steps away, he pulls out a bunch of them that are tied together. When he turns he looks at me, I just look at him and he frowns. "Whatcha got to trade?"
I'm thrown off a little, but of course, he wants something in return. "I don't have much on me, I can go get some stuff, what do you need?"
He shakes his head. "Nah, I got food and first aid kits... there is somethin' I don't have."
His eyes move down my body and I stiffen. "No. That's not an option."
His lips purse and I move back a step, a creepy grin forms on his face. "I'd always wondered whatcha looked like without clothes, maybe I'll just take what I want, ya daddy ain't around."
It's like the world pauses for a second, as I process what he says. Then I turn to take off to my bow, my bag is grabbed and he pulls me back. I lose my footing, and he yanks me so hard I rear back, then fall back onto my back and he laughs. His foot comes down to meet with my side and I let out a cry, the shock of pain making it hard to take in a full breath.
"Ya don't run, don't fight and maybe I'll give you somethin' when I'm done." My mind races as I think about what to do because I was not letting this man rape me. My dad had given me warnings about men - a scare tactic - but I had always promised I wouldn't ever just let it happen. I know some women can't, their mind freezes and they dissociate to preserve themselves - but I had always promised, I would fight.
I roll to my side as he kneels down near me. As I consider going for the arrows on the shelf above me, I feel a lump in the side of my boot. His grabby hand caresses my face, then moves to my beanie as I curl up onto my side. I cringe and avoid looking at him as my hand wraps around the hilt of my knife.
"That's it, be nice about it. In this new world, ya gonna have to get used to tradin' ya body." He pulls off of my beanie, then grabs my shoulder, pushing me back onto my back. I don't even think about it, I just rip the knife out of my boot and straight at him.
