Hollow Graves (Lesbian Story)

By DominaAlexandra

154K 9.8K 529

Tris thought she would go home for a quick visit after being convinced by her brother. More like begged and g... More

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four~
Chapter Five~
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty- Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Six

5.9K 313 31
By DominaAlexandra

Pawn Shop R'Us
~

   Like in the movies I knew the hospitals and the big city was the worse place to go. It would be like volunteering to be food for zombies. Heading to the police station would make more sense. But how many thought the same?
    I use to head to the pawn shop all the time when I wanted to sale some DVD's or anything else I could get some quick cash for. Because of that, I knew what the pawn store was packing.
   We stepped outside for the first time in several days and immediately I scanned the outside. It didn't look like a ghost town like it was at the end of Resident Evil when Alice was holding a shotgun. The only thing that creeped me out was the non busy neighborhood. No kids playing basketball on the street or cars honking at the kids and other cars driving too slow. It felt eerie and it wasn't even dark out. Only five in the evening and the sun still baked as if trying to cook us like a full on Turkey. Meat dropping off of the bone slow.
I can't wait to smell rotten flesh in this heat. More like a dead animal cooking in the hot sun.
My mental sarcasm deserved a slap.
"Will we ever come back?"
Poor, Christian. I never checked to see how he was handling this. How he was handling our parents turning into what was left in that basement. "One day to bury them." What more could I say. I couldn't give him false hope in believing we'd come back, when a cure was discovered and everything could be okay. No. He had to no our parents were gone. "Stay close."
I scanned the street again; this time stepping down our porch, letting the sun hit my skin for the first time in a week. I squinted my eyes trying to adjust them and made a quick decision to head between the cars that sidled far left of our home. The neighborhood was utterly quiet.
I moved quickly toward the cars with Christian and Christy trailing me crouching low as we took cover. We were already a half block and had three more to go.
Where was everyone?
Christian must have read my mind and Christy answered my unspoken question. "They don't go in the sun."
I gave her a quick glance that said how do you know?
"I didn't just magically appear here. I ran into a few that chased me outside and the moment the sun was on them, they looked like they couldn't find me. I think they're blinded by the sun and it somehow messes with their sensory on finding us. I don't know."
I nodded.
"But ..." Christy paused. I gave her look that said go on and she continued. "The ones bitten...they are out here, somewhere."
"Anything else you can share with us," I asked madder at myself that I hadn't pumped her full of questions since she'd been out here.
"The bitten...don't run," she said hopeful.
"Hmm," I grinned. "That is good news." I thought a moment. How many were bitten and changed and could have made it. "If we come across one or two slugs, we'll kill them."
Christy looked like she didn't like that idea, but Christian gleamed.
I looked at her with a firm but mentoring tone. "Do you want to leave them lurking around to bite someone else?" Christy sighed saying nothing and I continued. "We all need the practice. It's a way to find out if a stab through the brain really works. And if we can do this when it really matters."
"I'm down," Christian said eager. "My sis is right, Christy." I watched him place his hand over her shoulder easing her a bit.
"All right," she agreed, and that was it.
The first two blocks was easy. There was no form of life or the dead and I was beginning to think that maybe everything was more contained than we thought. Maybe not. I liked being optimistic, but I knew I had to be a realist too.
The smell hit me before I saw anything and I stopped abruptly, making Christian and Christy jerk into a halt, startled.
I crinkled my nose, contorting my expression with disgust. My insides twisted into knots as I held in the contents that shifted in my stomach. "Smell that?"
Christian shook is head, inhaling deep trying to pick up what I was scenting. "Nothing." He gave me a look and I knew what he wanted to say.
The aroma was repulsive and rotten. My thoughts flashed like sirens on the possibility of it being a zombie. I noticed we were across from Roscoe's liquor store, owned by Roscoe himself. Oh, bless my dry mental sarcasm.
They looked in the same direction I was and Christy stiffened. "I'm not going in there," she wavered.
I wasn't planning on it but we didn't have to. I walked to the middle of the street, eyes hard on the liquor store. Something told me the stench was coming from inside. The door opened as an annoying bells rang. A long second pass, when someone staggered out. Something. My breathing quicken as I positioned myself, ready for it to charge.
"Aw...shit sis." There the owner was.
Roscoe in the flesh. Roscoe zombie didn't charge, he staggered over in our direction and I reminded myself of what Christy told me. I erected my position taking a new insight to my approach. "Training begins now."
I had determination in my eyes, and my voice was firm.
"I'll take him." I watched as it moved gradually closer, hands reaching forward as if it wanted a hug. It smelled repulsive and nauseating. His skin was ashen grey, blotches all over him. I noticed an arm dangling to its side, nearly chewed off. I winced remembering my own bite to my arm. "You two move back and watch the area."
Roscoe zombie lurched closer snapping its teeth continuous, hungry for my flesh. I side stepped him when he reach for me.
"Don't play with him, sis."
I can admit, it was funny knowing I could run circles around it and not be caught. More so, the fact that I was immune did put a little arrogance into my horse playing. I should show respect. He was once somebody; who I knew.
Alright! Your true death a waits.
As it twisted slowing trying to reach for me before it could actually finish its turn, I lifted my bat up facing the knife that was taped at the hem of it, directly at his face. I frowned as I drove the knife into its eye, and I watched as its mouth agape a few more times, showing me his blubbery tongue.
Ewe, that's gross. 
I thought the idea of penetrating him-it through the brain was false when suddenly its legs finally buckled, falling over as the knife slipped out. The zombies head hit the cement last, smacking hard enough to bounce. "It works," I said, as if they hadn't witnessed personally.
"No shit, sis," Christian said stepping up closer.
"Hey," Christy and I said in unison.
A light breeze shifted the air and Christian was hit with a whiff of what I first smelled before zombie Roscoe staggered out. "Oh, damn," Christian said, using his arm to cover his nose. "He doesn't smell great at all."
I looked around and then stared down at my watch. We're wasting too much time. "The next one we find...will be your turn," I told my brother. "Let's get going."
We ran car to car, stopping each time to check out the scenery. So far, we hadn't run into anymore zombies and internally and externally I hoped we didn't anymore. I knew it was wishful thinking and I had to be a realist. Believing in the hope of never seeing a zombie again could get all of us killed. I needed to stay alert. We were now in eye sight of the pawn shop, and being that we took over thirty minutes to go down four blocks, I wanted to slap myself. Too much time was wasted and we needed to find a safe place to stay the night. It would seem safer to hide in a car if there were only slow walker zombies. Since there were runners that would be hungry tonight, and the sky would be dark in another hour, our best bet was finding a place to stay for the night.
"Before we go in, here's the deal. I'll be first. Christy...middle and you're last little brother." They both looked at me as if this was some black ops mission.
Good!
No time to joke around. I notice their tense scared eyes and a quote popped into my head. "We will not vanish without a fight! We're going to live on! We're going to live on! Today we celebrate our Independence!" When I finished, I threw my fist up, nodding. Got to admit, I was a damn fool.
"Really...Tris?" Christian said rolling his eyes.
"What quote is that from?" Christy asked unknowledge about her movie quotes.
"Where have you been?" I said forgetting her age. "Independence day. Will Smith? Nothing?"
Christy just looked at me dubiously.
God, help me with her. "All jokes aside. We sweep every part of that pawn shop before we go for the weapons. Don't get comfortable."
Christy and Christian nodded.
I moved first, feeling badass with how firm I gripped the bat in my hand. I was ready to kill any zombies I could find. Since we would be inside of a building, there was a chance that runners would be in there besides a simple walker. Yes, I separated the zombies into two categories. There were the ones that ran and the one's that didn't. Simple.
The front of the pawn shop had a barred gate that was locked and the window's were so tented it looked like one of those dark mirrored windows seen at a police interrogation room. Not that she had personal experience seeing one herself. She didn't. No record to be recorded. My hands twitched with the desire to try and break the lock. For some reason I knew I could. It scared and thrilled me all at once. "There's a back door. I can pick the lock," I said rushing to the edge of the small building. I leaned my head to the side turning to see if the alley was clear.
Didn't zombies like to be in the alleys? Always in the movies. It was like a bigger open hallway. 
I hoped not. "Stay close," I whispered as I moved watchful of anything that moved. I kept the bat up, in a ready swinging position as we headed to the back door.
No sound's of life and the dead came. I reached for the door knob, twisting it just in case it was unlocked. I wasn't that lucky. I pulled a paperclip out my pocket, thankful I was smart enough to grab a few and started picking at the lock. It took me much longer than I thought and I crouched to get a better sense of what I needed to do.
I turned abruptly when I heard a loud clacking sound barge into my focus. I noticed a several soda cans fall and roll onto the gravel from the trashcan my brother was sidling.
"Sorry," he whispered.
I scowled but said nothing. I brought my focus back onto my current mission. I realized I needed to enhance my lockpicking skills. When I finally succeeded, I twisted the knob slowly, nodding for them to follow behind.
We were in the backroom. I felt for a light switch and when I heaved it up, the light flickered for a few seconds and shut off. "Great," I muttered.
It was strange though. I didn't need the light on. It was as if my eyes had installed night vision and I could see as easy as any true animal predator. I wasn't an animal, but my meaning was still clear. It was only accustom to try to turn on actual lights.
"Put your hand on my shoulder." I waited for Christy and when she finally did as I asked, no questions, thank God, I told my brother to do the same. "I'll guide us," I murmured again.
"Kay," they both said.
I noticed shelves of salable expensive items stacked up on top of one another and shook my head.
Hide the good stuff.
The room couldn't be no more than two hundred square feet, but with how cluttered it was, it felt smaller. Flat screen TV's sidled in layers against the walls and I pretty much had a clear path to the front. A small crevice of light let me know I was close and when we made it within a few feet of the pathway to the front, the unexpected happened. Two men jumped us, catching us all off guard as one slammed me into the nearest free zone wall. I groaned from the pain of my body slamming into the thick wall as the man pressed his body up to mines.
I gritted my teeth as I felt his dick, that was about to be separated from his body harden against my back. I heard the unmistakable cry of my brother as he tried to fight off his attacker. From the corner of my eye I noticed Christy try to help when the man smacked her hard across her face. I winced as if I felt that slap personally.
"What a pretty thing you are," the man said breathing his toxic un-sanitized breath on me.
Ewe, Fucking men! It wasn't that he was a man in general. I had male friends. A good few of them actually. But I wouldn't lie. When I guy would try to ask me out, would scowl as if insulted they asked. It wasn't like I tatted my forehead, I'm gay, don't bother. I considered it.
   So, I had to live with the fact men still found me attractive no matter how many women I slept with the night before. But when they were disgusting like he was, even a straight woman would find him disgusting. Him grinding up on me didn't help the situation at all.
Instinct and adrenaline rolled in her like a heat wave as I growled. He laughed as if he found my frustration funny. In self defense training the lesson on how to fight an attacker from behind kicked in. I ducked low and fast, rotating my arms along with my head, clockwise. He was so caught off guard as he tried to recover. It was too late. I grabbed on to his arm, twisting tight around his back, now taking pleasure in slamming him against the wall.
When I heard Christy scream, turned fast seeing as the man who was attacking my brother raised a gun at him. Something in me; I don't know what, rose. It was dark and scary. The same thrilling feeling I got when I was smashing the bat through the bottom stairs back in our basement. This time, it was as if I could smell, feel, and taste everything around. My mind saw things slow as if I had more than enough time. I didn't understand what the feeling was but I took that as an opportunity to go along with the feeling and ran straight toward the man holding the gun up to my brother. He hadn't seen me coming as I used all my weight, slamming him into the shelves behind him. He hit it hard as he dropped the gun. I picked it up; facing it toward the guy I was dealing with before, as if knowing he was coming for me. He was, with a face as mad as an enraged killer.
I don't know if he didn't see me holding the gun or didn't care, probably thinking I wouldn't use it but he continued toward me. I aimed low, my eyes fixed and cold. I shot him. My hand held the gun firm and still as if I'd been born with a gun at my side. I didn't react to shooting him only satisfied seeing blood gush from his thigh.
The man immediately fell over, sobbing in agony as I looked back to the other man unconscious against the shelves.
For a splint second I thought, should have stopped. Motherfucker.
   Yes, I was as intense as I could ever be. I felt malice, my face skewed with a hint of pleasure. It was as if my emotions shut down.
"Tris." My brothers' voice broke in horror and disbelief.
I didn't look at him right away. I was still watching the guy holding his thigh, trying to probably slow the bleeding.
A hand touched over my arm where I was still holding the gun, and I twisted fast, catching my brother off guard. My heart nearly stopped as I my face looked deadly.
"It's me...Tris," Christian yelled out in an abnormal high pitch, stumbling back. "It's me. You shouldn't have shot him," he said straightening tall.
"He was coming at me," Tris said coldly.
I could see Christian from the corner of my vision, trying to squint his eyes at me, as if he hadn't recognized my voice. "Well ... those zombies out there sure heard that."
Fuck, your right.
   I clutched my fingers tighter around the gun realizing the stupid mistake I made. I pretty much ran the alarm letting any living or non living no where we were. The cold feel I was getting started to dissolve; a soft and regrettable expression washed over my face. "You're right. That was stupid."
"What are we going to do?" Christy said, picking up the bat I didn't realize I dropped.
"For starters, let's get somewhere there isn't dark and them, tied up."

***

   We made our way to the front of the pawn shop, as I finished tying up both the men. The guy unconscious was barely waking up when I tucked the gun in my back pocket. That's where they put it in the movies.
   I moved around the counter checking out all the stuff that was locked behind a glass. I wasted no time looking for a key, knelling low to use my elbow to brake through. As the glass shattered I reached in, immediately grabbing a few military style knives and what looked like what I saw on many mixed martial arts movies, a Katana. The closest thing I did to using swords was fencing. Wasn't the best but I could handle myself. The Katana blade was about two feet long, with a long grip handle. Made to use for two handed attacks and light enough to still use as a one hand attack.
I pulled it out carefully, imagining slicing through raw flesh with it.
"You most feel really alive, holding that, huh?" the guy I shot said slyly.
I didn't look at him but I thought I could also use it to slice through him or anyone like him too.
"Can you even handle that, girl?"
His voice was as bad as his breath I remembered when he slammed me to the wall. Toxic. I continued to admire the Katano as my brother looked on the shelves for other useful items or weapons.
"Good choice in coming here," Christy said as she kept her eyes on the men. She sat up on the counter holding the bat that I held before.
"Didn't expect us though...huh honey?" he said looking at Christy. He kept his eyes on her and I felt an overprotective urge to shoot him again.
"Don't look her," I snarled. I turned his gaze on me. "You look at her wrong, once and I'll throw you to the zombies."
His face twisted into a detestation of ire. He didn't speak right away. "We got off on the wrong foot." He waited for me to look at him. I didn't. "I'm Steven."
I took what I needed finding a hoister  for the Katana, strapping it across my chest. After I stood straight I took in the man's appearance. His eyes were blueberry blue with small creases lining his eyes. His blond hair hovered over his eyes with a rectangular face. He could be considered handsome to some women. He looked around his mid-thirties. I assumed the life of a zombie world did make it hard for him. My anger eased up just a little. I could consider him. I was fair. I could be human. I was, last I checked.
Walking around the counter, I made my way to him and I noticed him stiffen. I held a small knife in my hand and his blue eyes stared hard with fear. He didn't seem like a beggar because if he was he would have by now.
"Tris," Christian said worried.
"I'm going to check your wound," I said easily. The man gave me a suspicious glare. "I'm an EMT," I said matter-of-factly.
He arched a brow, than nodded.
I tore the knife through his pants, seeing a clear visual of his gun shot wound I'd caused.
   I bet that hurt. I didn't voice that obvious fact. "Christian, throw me some peroxide and some pain killers."
As my brother dug through our bag, Sal looked at me surprised. "Rob a pharmacy?"
I snorted. "That's next on my list. Never know when you'll need it."
"You mean...you never know who you'll shoot," Steven said dryly.  
    My brother brought me the backpack and I gave him a painkiller. He took it. I pulled out some gauze and pressure bandage. I always had a lot of pressure bandage. I didn't care for this man. He'd attacked us and may have tried to have his way with me if I'd been too weak. As an EMT I learned that it was never are place to judge. If there was a patient who needed treating; I had to treat. More so, he was bleeding and I didn't know if zombies had noses for blood like monkey's had eyes for a bananas. I didn't want to find out. He needed to stop bleeding and hide the smell of blood. It was strong as it burned my nose. I cleaned his wound and finally bandaged him up.
After I was done I cleared my throat feeling oddly uncomfortable with his blood on my hands. I always wore gloves but didn't think to put any on this time. But something inside told me I wasn't uncomfortable about not wearing gloves. It was the blood itself. I stood turning my head away, grimacing. "You'll be fine," I said. My voice was unnaturally calm. He didn't know me to realize but Christian did. I walked off going across the room. I cleaned my hands with some peroxide and wiped my hands on paper towels tossing them to the side once I was done. I leaned against the counter. "We're staying here tonight," I said.
Steve gave me an, I figured glare.
"We can get along and help each other out, but I don't trust you," I told him. I wanted to see how he would respond.
He seemed to go in deep thought and then spoke. "My cousin and I. We've tried to be nice and help, only being nearly left as bait."
I automatically turned to the guy that was now awake but quiet the entire time. He looked scared and almost dazed, not quite alert to me or my companion's presents. I frowned.
Steve noticed my expression. "He's a little slow," Steve said protectively. "No one wants someone like my cousin around them. They think he will get them killed."
I didn't blame those people. I had no prejudice against anyone. He seemed like he could make a lot of unnecessary noise that would lead zombies to him. He would cause problems I didn't want near my brother or Christy.
My brother spoke. "You didn't have to attack us, but we understand why you wouldn't trust us."
Steve shrugged at Christian and then looked at his cousin. "Can you give him some water?" he asked.
I didn't see the harm in that and grabbed the bottle water out my bag, walking over to his cousin holding it up to him.
   The man, who looked to be in his late twenties shrugged away, scared.
"Finley...she's not going to hurt you," Steve told his cousin. His eyes stayed on me, hoping I would show kindness to his cousin.
That was the first time I saw a genuine look in his expression. Nothing cunning and cruel. He gave an honest and concerned expression to his cousin and hope that I would show kindness.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Finley," I said remembering his name at the last second.
He looked up to me with a surprised look. "You-you remember my name, ma'am?"
I smiled sweetly at him. "Of course," I said as if I'd known him his entire life.
He took the bottle of water smiling at me, happily, and then turned to his Cousin, Steven. "She remembered my name cousin."
"Of course she did. It would be ludicrous for her to forget." He nodded at me then turned back to his cousin."Drink up."
I stood up trying to decide if I should see Steven and his cousin as my enemy. They'd attacked us and I'm sure Steven told his cousin to do the same. Couldn't blame Finley for that. I was thankful I didn't hurt him that badly.
Something loud slammed against the front door. I swerved, snapping my fingers to get everyone's attention. Nothing happened for a minute and I thought I hallucinated the sound. Another rattling sound came from the front entrance. Something was hitting against the gated bars that stood as a stronger barrier from the outside world.
Fuck!

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