Shaken

Chapter six.

Ford didn't come after me, and I eventually stopped looking back to see if he had. I exhaled and kept my steady pace. You tend to prioritize yourself in situations like these. I flicked my fingers nervously, every crack of a rock sending my heart into the bottom of my stomach.

I stayed along the fence line to stay clear of rocks and twisted ankles. I battled with myself, wondering if I were to turn back if he might still be waiting for me. But that was a naive notion, so I kept my eyes locked on the ground in front of me.

I had been walking in the sun for an hour before I stopped to rest at the edge of the school border. I scratched the back of my neck, the beginning of my hairline rimmed with a thin line of sweat. Was I being completely stupid, nonsensical even? The surreal, shattered landscape began to close in on me.

There's just no way I could make it over that thing, I said fearfully as I began to bite firmly on my lower lip.

My throat dried as I panted in the dusty heat. I pushed myself to get up and keep walking. I hopped a few more fences and finally made it to Richard's, a small grocery store a few blocks away from my school.

It was still pretty intact, apart from the shattered storefront and crackled parking lot. I had read about intense looting after natural disasters, seen it in apocalypse movies too. I wondered if the people in my once put-together town had resorted to that here. 

I stepped cautiously through the broken glass doorway and looked around at the cleared out racks. People must have taken most of the supplies in here and ran, but where were they all now? I walked cautiously around the aisles, picking up a potato chip bag and dented six pack of Gatorade.

As I passed the check out counter, I saw one of the workers laying facedown on the ground behind it . She was covered in shattered liquor bottles and blood. One of the ceiling fans was sitting a few feet away from her. I looked up at where it must have detached and fallen upon her.

I shuttered and swallowed hard to keep down the bile. Her fear still clouded the room. I picked up a bottle of water off the ground. As well as a few packs of gum, a lighter, and a bag of jerky. My heart sunk as I turned down the next aisle, another body.

This time a young man, his arms painted with dark tattoos and blood. He had died clutching a wound to his stomach, but a fallen shelf rack lay on top of his head, hiding his face.

I turned the corner of the check out desk into the refrigerated section and stopped as something clanked under my foot. I took a step back. And gawked in disbelief as the metal glimmered in the fading sunlight.

The bloody knife shivered on the ground from the impact. I turned my head to look at the counter as realization set in.

I immediately jumped into flight mode,  frantically running through the store searching for something to hold all the items I found. An inside out backpack was slung over one of the shelves, so I stuffed everything I could fit into it.

I hurried out the store, the single bloody footprint I left behind fading with each step.

I couldn't understand it, the city I had called home for so long had practically no crime. Why does desperation bring out such evil in people?  I tried to shake the image out of my head as tears welled up in my eyes. It was while I was wiping the hot drops of water from my dusty cheeks that I slammed into something hard.

I fell back and landed on my hip; a small rip in my pants marking the fall. I shaded my eyes from the glare reflecting off of it. A dusty, once silver, truck rested in front of me, straddling two parking spots.

I squinted harder in confusion. I hadn't noticed it before I went inside the store. I stood up cautiously and dusted off my pants.

When I looked up I realized the passenger window was partially down; a young man in the driver seat sat with his hand readily on the clutch, his mouth gaping as he watched me.