Taking the silver can in my hands, I turned it round in my palms, searching the worn label. Colours faded, and a dent in it, I swallowed heavily from the growing hunger in my stomach. Each day we had to eat whatever we could find, testing packages that were out of date - everything stale, and hard.
I was surprised my pallet could tell the difference between anything anymore; everything was the same. There was no sense of individuality in the world anymore, no colour, no entertainment. It was a constant reminder that the whole world had changed, and the old one was never coming back.
I sighed heavily, dropping the can into my backpack. "Not much here," my voice cracked. I turned on my heel towards Laura, who faced away from me her back hunched forward. She nodded, looking over her shoulder for a moment as she gathered boxes of kid plasters from the shelves in front of her.
We were put into silence again, keeping our ears open to anything dangerous. We had Rick at the front of the shop, gun risen, and Daryl walking around.
As he passed my mind, the man came into my view, walking to the end of the aisle. We reflected each other's tired glances, gravitating towards each other.
"How much more have we got?" I whispered, tucking my hair behind my ear and zipping up my bag.
"Not too many," he looked over my head and at Laura, eyeing her carefully before patting me on the shoulder and turning around. I watched him walk away from me and out of sight, before spinning on my heel.
Laura was now facing me, sniffing inwards as she rubbed her red nose - one we had all acquired over the winter. Along with coats heavy with rain, sodden boots, torn clothes. Everything was make do, and it was hard to replace something so low on our list of priorities.
"Finished?" I asked quietly, ready to leave the store that held little to nothing.
She didn't answer, except turning to look away from me. We hadn't been the same way, forever. She couldn't accept that it wasn't ever going to be the same again. She was naive. Laura even had the audacity to say "when this is all over."
You didn't have to be as cynical as me to realise that was never going to be the case. We had already experienced the trouble of trying to convince Hershel and his family that the end was no longer coming, it was here. I was too tired to try and do it again.
"I'm trying, okay?" Her voice struck me, as I didn't expect her to speak to me. Many things had become a part of my life, and unfortunately, these short abrasive conversations between me and my ex-girlfriend were one of them. "I'm trying to get over you."
I looked at her wide-eyed, bringing a hand up to scratch my head for a moment. I felt the need to just step back and let her brew in whatever she was feeling because her mere presence still made me feel sick.
My eyes closed. "I can't do anything to help," I didn't know why we always whispered when we went on runs, or whenever I had a conversation. The world was quiet enough now that we could whisper everything to each other, like secrets, like stories.
"I know you can't," she said quickly, going to walk past me before taking a moment to look me up and down. "I just-" she bit her tongue. "You don't realise how hard it is to get over you, do you?"
It sounded like she was telling me off for... existing. And her height compared to my own was slightly unnerving. But I knew she couldn't lay a hand on me without hating herself.
"Trust me," I tilted my head. "It's very easy to think you're a piece of shit when you're me, so I really don't understand how hard you are finding it."
"Marley, you make people get real close to you."
"I don't make people do anything," I hissed, suddenly feeling a bubbling anger grow up in my throat as my words came out as one long underlining threat. "You can't move on, that's your own fault."
"I'm sorry that I cannot forget how much a piece of something special you are," her voice was steady and unemotional. "You really cannot see it, and that is one of the tragedies I know well."
She knocked arms with me, taking quick steps away. I simply rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, trying to get the rest of the sleep I could never get, out of them.
I shook my head, furrowing my brows for a moment as I let out a groan of frustration.
"She say something?" A voice came up from behind me, making me spin around quickly, almost giving me whiplash. It was Daryl, stood guarded and switching his eyes to look at me and where Laura had gone.
"Um," I pressed my fingers to my forehead, gathering myself. "Not really."
He rose an eyebrow, looking at me with disbelief.
"What?" I took closer steps, crossing my arms and looking up to his height. He didn't answer, instead not wavering his eyes from my own and I was the first to look away, but only for a moment as I asked him again. "What, Daryl?"
"She ain't giving up," he finally said, shaking his head in disappointment and distaste.
"Give her a break, she's attached," I took his forearm in my hand. "C'mon."
I walked briskly to the front of the store, keeping Daryl beside me and I swung my bag over my shoulder. It was a short walk as we came to the glass doors where Laura and Rick were waiting.
Rick had his gun drawn, swinging it lightly between his hands - impatience painting his expression.
Laura, Will, and Harvey; were unknowingly being tested.
Harvey and Will had been lead to the back of the shopping centre by Glenn and T-Dog, whereas Laura and I were with Daryl and Rick. Even numbers made it easier to cover each other. But it was hard, being made to spend a day with the people you wanted to forget.
Rick had asked me to come along because I knew them the best, and I only agreed because it would be good for the group. I would have to suffer with being in the company of someone like Laura.
"Sure you're okay?" Daryl said quickly before we came into earshot of the others. I quickly nodded, coming in front of Rick and Laura.
"Right," Rick huffed, glancing at my bag and then around where he stood. "Next."
We moved in formation towards the next store. We had to skip the next one, because of how boarded up it was. The shopping centre was so large, that any hacking into any doors would echo extremely. We didn't want to make any more noise than we wanted to.
We came across a meat shop, or a butcher's. They had faded red signs, blue streamers hanging from each opening in the doors and windows, some stuck to the cracked paint. Te glass was dusty and foggy, showing no image of what was on the other side.
Rick curled his fist and rapped on the front, trying to wipe any of the grime away. But he was only met with nothing.
"Going in?" Daryl asked his friend, shuffling on his feet beside me.
Rick nodded, trying once again on the window with his fist, before going to the door and opening it with ease. It was unlocked and knocked against the wall as it swung out.
I was the second to walk in, and it was dark as we came up to the counter. It was incredibly, and surprisingly clean. Everything was boxed and wiped, where the meat should have been was dusty and empty. Each shelf that decorated the walls held on plastic Tupperware containers of useless utensils. Nothing in this small space was useful to us.
And all us knew there was nothing, so we moved again through the door behind the counter. I shuffled with the weapon in my arms, adjusting the weight so it wasn't sticking in my ribs.
The back of the meat store was not much different, except this time, two rows of metal clinky shelves lined the room. But there was nothing to see, nothing to show. It was so foreign to be in such a clean place, it almost felt intrusive as our dirty shoes left footprints on the stark grey concrete.
I looked down to the floor at the pattern, biting my cheeks.
And then, right at the back, there was a large metal freezer door. It reached to the top of the ceiling, right from the bottom of the floor. It had a rusted handle closing it, and I watched as Rick steadied himself to open it.
Laura and I walked over to where we were behind some shelves and watched from afar as Rick and Daryl got ready for anything that was on the other side. And yet, as Rick yanked it open with his gun raised, nothing was on the other side.
My hopelessness was being concentrated, it was being tested today, Each store held new surprises, but I would rather be met with something rather than nothing. The vast emptiness of this world always got on my nerves. Our lives used to be filled with things we wanted to do. Now we had this.
Rick stepped carefully into the doorway, peering in with Daryl in tow. I walked around the shelves, listening to their footsteps.
Just before Daryl walked in behind him, he held out the door and nodded towards me. I rushed over, taking the handle in my hand and holding it open as Rick and Daryl ventured further. If this door closed, there was no way of getting out without it being opened from this side - so I had to keep a firm grip.
And I was hit with the tension, the responsibility, and how quiet we all were. I didn't know if this was the norm, or that we were all so tired we didn't bother to communicate.
I stood impatiently on my toes, letting my arms hang from their sockets as I let my body relax as much as possible, finding the time to make my muscles less tense.
The breath was knocked straight from my chest and up to my head where my cheek pressed against the now, unfortunately, closed door. I yelled out in pain as a hand held the back of my head, forcing my body forward. I heard the large clunk of the handle closing and locking.
"Hey there," a low voice whispered into my ear, and I shivered for a moment before trying to push backwards. The stranger only turned me around and held me tightly by the throat. Squeezing, my feet lifted off the ground and no words could be made as I choked, spluttering words.
I couldn't see who was around me, as my chin was forced upwards. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't do anything to get myself out of that predicament.
Along with all of this, I could hear distant shouts echoing from the large door; the one I was supposed to keep open, but now it was closed with Daryl and Rick still inside.
"We're not killing her, James, loosen it up," my thoughts were torn from the shouts and I tried to figure out how many people were around me.
James must have been the one holding me, as the grip on my neck loosened to where my feet touched the ground once more, and my lungs could actually take in a small amount of oxygen. I looked around, trying to wring the hands from myself.
My eyes were wide as I looked around, spotting two other men; and one of them held Laura's head steadily in his own hands, just as James was with me.
"Which one, quickly?" the one who did not hold either of us, stood between with his hand on his hip. His eyes peered at us, and I could only watch him for a moment before I started to struggle more.
It only resulted in the grip tightening on my windpipe, and I let out a long audible sound.
"They're both nice."
"This one's smaller."
"Clever, less of a fight," I heard them laugh, and I heard Laura whimper. I cast my eyes over to the brunette, spotting the tears now glistening her cheeks, falling onto her lips and painting her jawline. She frowned towards me, trying to reach over with an open hand.
And now, due to the sheer intensity and fear I was experiencing, I felt liquid roll down my own cheeks. But I didn't care; I didn't care that I could taste the salt of my own tears, or that they blurred my vision to where everything around me looked and felt like I was drowning in it.
The whole world blurred in my vision, as I felt hands hold me in place against the hard wall. And I felt anger, at the men. My bones ached in my skin, wanting to lash out. And I tried, I really tried - but my strength was not enough.
After all, this time, I was still weak.
"We settled?" One of them said I didn't know which.
I didn't have much of an idea of what they were saying, or what they were talking about, but their intentions were clear. And my imagination got the better of me as I pictured what they would do to us.
But this time, it was only one.
The man holding Laura, shook his pistol from his belt, steadying the barrel between her eyebrows and pressing it firmly.
And I could feel my heart rise up in my throat, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, as I watched Laura stare calmly at the trigger.
"No-n-pl-" I tried to get out, but was stunted as both my anxiety and constricted throat would not let me beg for our lives.
"Marley! Laura!" I could hear the people I cared about screech their lungs out, and it was the only piece of hope I had left in those seconds.
I begged the world for everything to go to plan, and for Glenn to emerge from the front of the store, or for the door to break, or anything else to happen besides either of us getting hurt.
Their intentions were insidious, and I didn't look forward to the coming moments no matter what they held.
"Hey!" the one who just stood held his hand up towards the other, making him lower the gun.
I breathed out, halting my failed words and watching carefully. The way the men looked at each other, the way their eyes communicated, to try and decipher my next move based on theirs.
The man finally spoke, a smirk on his lips. "That'll waste bullets."
And the man took Laura's head forward, briskly forcing it back onto the hard, concrete wall.
I let out a scream, trying to struggle and writhe in the grasp of James. But it was entirely, and utterly hopeless. I could hear my sobs in my head, my tears drip like they knocked against my skull.
As if, just like Laura now, blood trickled down the centre of my forehead.
Her body fell limp, her eyes once full of passion, now dull and faded.
I screeched more, wiggling around for something. And all whilst the men smiled, I found my purchase on the side of James' trousers. Where he held his own gun, right beside a sharp object I presumed to be a knife.
They laughed, and they casually stood, and I gripped it firm in my hand just as James turned his eyes towards me - and I struck it into his left, piercing what we all needed nowadays, with his own goddamn weapon.
His grip on my loosened, to where he was no longer holding me and he screamed. He brought up his hands shakingly, mixing his fingers in the blood that streamed down his face just as my tears were.
I felt, rather than heard the click of a gun from behind him, and so I held James' shoulders. I pushed him in front of me, just as gunshots filled my ears. His body provided a barrier, and it shook in my hands as more blood spurted from his body. And he slumped to the ground.
I didn't register them coming for me, as I used all my strength to turn and run towards the door that needed to be opened. There was no hope for me if I did not find a way for Daryl and Rick to get out of there.
More hands grasped me, pulling me back and throwing me down to the floor where the ground clipped my cheek, scraping it harshly. I fumbled in my place, turning onto my back just as the man who seemed to be the leader lifted me up.
He spoke some harsh words I did not hear because everything was blurred and frantic - I did not have time to listen to disgusting words.
I yelped as he grasped my hair, pulling it harshly and standing me up. I kicked him where it hurt, and he doubled over. The gun in his hand was opportune, so I grasped it firm, aimed it up his chin, and pressed his finger to pull the trigger.
I did not have time to relish my victory, as weak knees got the better of me and my whole body fell to the ground once more.
It seemed both these men and myself were weak. They were dumb. I was using what they had against them. Then came the sudden realisation that they could use those against me, as I came face to face with the last man, just as he kneeled down to my height.
To stick a knife between my ribs.
I choked out, feeling as helpless as I did when they first grabbed me. As helpless as all those years ago. But the feeling of metal slicing into my muscle between my bones, and the way he held it so tightly in place; it was new.
I had never experienced something with as much of a rush and equal amount of pain as this.
He pushed it further, then followed that movement with pulling it out and sticking it somewhere else.
I could not scream, or call for help - every ounce of strength I had was slowly whittling out me through that weapon, and I could not concentrate on anything else - especially the dead look the man had, as he twisted the metal in my body.
He knelt over my body, then he abandoned that weapon, in my favor for my neck, slowly gripping tighter and tighter.
I used my hands to pull the weapon from my body, keeping my eyes wide on his own, and it burned so much I thought the room would erupt into flames.
He was too concentrated on killing me by air, he hadn't noticed me pull his other use of killing me had clattered to the ground beside me. It was all I had left, so all my anger, all my fear, all the emotion these men had inflicted on me in such short a time made my fist curl around the handle.
Just as the edges of my view darkened, and blurred. As I could hear crackling just like a broken firework, I could now see the man's own weapon being repeatedly struck into his chest.
I was fire, and blood, as I kept going. Kept winning against this man.
But his loosening grip didn't give me back the strength it had taken.
I pushed his body beside me, making it land in a heap of nothing and I pushed my hands into the ground to back away from the bodies I had made and the two they had left for me.
They left Laura against the wall, with a rain pattern red travelling down the hollow of her neck.
I left James with a knife still in his eye, and holes where his heart could be curled into himself and closest to the door.
I left the second man not far, wide eyes, and smoke bellowing from his crown. Pieces of his personality, and what made him do this, scattered on the floor.
And the last man, the one who had bashed Laura's head against the wall, was still breathing on the ground just as I was, holding his wound tightly. Blood streamed past his knuckles and curled around his wrist.
Something on a canvas that would be so abstract, but on a body is an entirely different story.
I brought my back up to the wall, sitting closely to the corner as I review what I did. What I had done to survive. It was all so bad, and I felt happy I did it all.
Even if they had won, I had won better.
"You picked the wrong girl," my voice croaked, and I shouldn't have spoken because I hissed in extreme pain.
The gun which had once been held in my arms, before I was struck, and stabbed, and choked, was sitting not too far. So I reached over, letting my legs rest and my upper body lay down once more. I curled my hands around the strap, pulling it over.
I did not let him utter one more word, as the second bullet I would fire screamed more words than the pain he felt. And he stopped struggling, he stopped squirming, he stopped trying to live.
Because I had won this time.
I sighed heavily, whimpering, and crying - I let my hands feel the two open wounds on my front. I pressed firmly, feeling sweat drip down my back.
I didn't feel pain, it just felt like pressure; like being punched. The wounds were there, but not until I could feel the blood dripping over my nails and skin of my hand, did the pain really register in my head. Only until I looked down and let my eyes see the red did it hurt so bad, that I opened my mouth to breathe easier. My body lay on the ground, with blood pooling beside my waist, slowly making me paler.
My eyes closed against the cold that soon washed over me, and it was only then I could hear Daryl shout my name once more.
○○○
- sylar