Silver Horizons | 9

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"My zombie apocalypse plan is simple but effective; I fully intend to die in the very first wave." – Graham Parke

“We’re still in Colorado, I’m assuming,” said Forest from the backseat. “’Cause I mean I doubt we walked a whole state. Just saying.”

            We had found a map in the glove compartment. Honestly, it was like every American had a map in their car at least somewhere.

            “I agree,” Annie murmured from beside of him, which wasn’t really a surprise at all. She tended to agree with him a lot.

            “Right,” Kyle said, “but we still need to know where in Colorado we are.”

            That was my job—figuring out where on the map that we were. It wasn’t exactly an easy task, but it was one that had to be done. It took a while, but eventually we passed a sign that told me exactly where we were in Colorado.

            I laughed at how easy it was. “We’re in Denver,” I told them all.

            “Wow,” Kyle said. “That was too easy.”

            I scoffed. “Tell me about it.”

We drove for five days, and we were finally in the next state over: Kansas. It was scorching hot just like the previous states, but luckily we still had our car. To avoid what happened last time we camped out, we decided to stay inside the car from then on. Forest was more than happy of oblige.

            Speaking of Forest, things were going pretty smoothly with him. The conflicts diminished, and he was bearable. He was still grouped up with Annie, and that sort of pissed me off that they went off in their own little world while Kyle and I were trying to navigate the road.

            “Which way next?” Kyle asked me, peering over to the map that I had spread out. “We need to find a new place to raid, because we’re running out of food.”

            I searched the map for the next stop where a store was and said, “Right up here.”

            Kyle turned a right, and we ended up driving down an interstate. There were a bunch of buildings, but the names branded across the top of the them seemed to be out of lights, and most of them we couldn’t tell what they said. The letters had already started hanging off the walls and some where even fallen to the ground.

            We passed something that look eerily like a Fred Meyer and parked in the parking lot.

            “Okay,” Kyle said. “How is this raid gonna work?”

            “I don’t know. You’re the boss,” Forest said from the backseat. Even though he was more bearable, his remarks were still the same. I think it was the fact that we were simply getting used to it. “Tell us what to do.”

            Kyle sighed, irritated. “Okay, whatever. We’re all gonna go in there, and we’re gonna grab as much shit as possible.”

            “What happens if this car gets stolen?” Forest asked.

            “We get another one. There are plenty cars in the parking lot, and I think a change would be nice.”

            Then, we got our guns and entered the store. A few days back, we stopped at a gun shop and stocked up on bullets. Forest apparently knew how to check to see how much ammo each gun had, and with enough convincing, he checked for us. We were scarily low on bullets, and luckily we happened to be passing a store that sold bullets. We grabbed as many as we could carry and bolted.

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