Desired

4. Achy But Happy

It was terrible.

Continuing with the lamp as our only light source, we cycled slowly, dodging the large cracks in the ground, until we'd finally come across this building. Zach said he's seen similar looking places in the movies he's watched and thinks it's a roadside Diner, which is apparently a building where people would stop and eat at when they travelling across the country. I can't imagine choosing to do what we're doing, then again, maybe I'd feel differently if we had an end destination. 

Walking back inside, I pass through a large room of turned over chairs and tables. Positioned on one side is a higher curved table with stools lined along it. I guess this is where people would sit and eat.

I struggle imagining what life was like before the Virulence outbreak. I don't understand the purpose of most of the buildings or objects. Zach is often able to identify them. Linking them to various movies which give him a reference to what life used to be like, whereas the books I've read relied on my imagination which has so far been very wrong.

Nothing looks like how I expected which makes me feel completely lost.

Entering the little room me and Zach slept in, I freeze. Something is wrong. It's too quiet and Zach isn't on the couch. A movement causes me to turn and I see Zach pushed up against a wall by two figures.

Drifters.

But Drifters aren't meant to exist.

'Run,' Zach mouths at me.

I shake my head and step forward, I won't leave without him. Two heads turn, one scowls and the other grins at me. Hands grip my shoulders but they don't belong to them. I jerk forward but I'm being stopped. Pressure clamps down, pinning my arms to my side, pulling me backwards so I'm fully in contact with the stranger's body behind me.

My chest constricts. I'm struggling to breathe. A familiar sensation returns, one I was hoping to never experience again: being trapped, unwanted contact.

'Get off me,' I whisper hoarsely. Kicking my legs back, I fight against the tightening around my chest which is preventing my lungs from expanding.

'Get off.' I hear my voice repeating it over and over, begging, crazed and panicked. My heels connect with something fleshy, the grip loosens around my chest and arms. I lash out with my fists and my arms. I can't see anything. I only feel the unwanted pressure of hands on me, trying to restrict me. I'm screaming louder, flinging my limbs out with us much force as possible.

'Let her go and she'll stop fighting back.' I hear Zach in the distance, his voice barely audible over the loud thud of my heart and the ringing in my ears. The weight lifts and I'm on my knees gasping for air.

'Kit, it's Zach. You're fine, they're not going to touch you again.' Zach's voice is soothing.

I don't respond. Clenching my fists by my side, I refuse to open my eyes not wanting to face the shame of my complete failure. I panicked and reverted back to my old Naturalist ways. I haven't changed.

I haven't changed at all.

'Kit, look at me,' Zach demands. I force my eyelids to open. His eyes are level with mine and his expression softens. 'I'm ok. You're ok.'

He stretches out his hand, and I stare at it confused until I remember I can touch Zach.

I trust Zach.

My hand feels clammy as it slides into his. Zach holds it tightly as he helps me stand on my shaking legs.

Three figures stand around us: a boy and a girl, who look around our age, and a woman, who looks much older. Their clothes are stained and tattered. The older woman has a bat and gun tucked into her waistband. The boy holds a gun in one hand and a knife in the other. The girl starts searching through our bags, and I cringe as she pulls out the book I've disguised with a different front cover.