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Four days.
Maybe five? She lost track after she lost Nick.
Stay on the boat, they had said. It’s safer there, they had said. We’ll come back for you, they had said.
They lied.
She expected this from Daniel. Hell, even Travis. But mom? Leaving her only kids alone on a boat while they searched for shelter.
Maybe they had died, or worse, but she couldn’t bear thinking about that. No, thinking that her mom had abandoned her was much better than thinking about what else could have happened to her. That thought had to go.
And she was getting hungry.
She climbs out of the boat for the second time in a week and trudges through the shallow water. Her brother’s body is still where she left it in the sand, but more devoured. She kneels next to him and wraps her arms around him, not caring what sort of bacteria is getting on her.
“I’m sorry, Nick.”
She pulls the metal baseball bat from his cold grip and turns to face the world, alone.
A growling noise echoes from her stomach. It had been a few days since she ran out of food. Since Nick went to go find them some...
She sticks to walking along the shore. She can swim, the walkers can’t. Eyes scan the shops along the beach for someplace, anyplace that might have food that hasn’t expired by now. Most places were already raided and cleaned out, but maybe she would get lucky.
She spots a drugstore whose windows aren’t broken. No walkers in sight - good sign, for now. She cautiously makes her way to the store, twitching at even the slightest noise.
She pushes at the door. Locked.
“Damn,” she mutters. She presses her face close to the glass to peer inside. Empty.
She takes a step back, swings the bat over her shoulder, and slams it into the window. Glass shatters and falls to the ground, and she jumps back to avoid getting her skin sliced into. A little too late to jump, a shard cuts into her arm. A gasp leaves her throat.
After the dust clears she climbs in through the window, careful not to cut herself more on the edges. A wide selection of food lay before her, a lot of which has gone bad and even started smelling, but still, food. She moves past the perishables and into the next aisle. She doesn’t know the date anymore but she looks at expiration dates anyway. They’re all the same. March 3, 2016.
She opens a bag of Doritos and tries one. A little stale, but it won’t kill her. She smiles.
A soft growl causes her to drop the bag of chips. They scatter across the floor. She looks around. Silence again. Maybe it’s just her mind playing tricks on her…
Another growl.
“W-who’s there?”
A gruesome, decaying figure appears at the end of the aisle and growls at her. It’s still wearing a nametag. Jason. She shakes her head. This is no time to think of who he used to be. He’s dead now.
She grips her bat and as soon as he’s close enough, she whacks him in the head. Hard. The man who used to be Jason falls to the ground. He doesn’t seem to be moving but she thumps him again for good measure. A satisfied smirk makes its way onto her lips. And Chris had thought she couldn’t take care of herself…
Suddenly a cold hand grips her arm. She turns around and finds herself inches from another walker. She can’t help it when she screams. She kicks at it, trying to get away, but for a dead guy his grip is strong. She uses her free arm to swat at him with the bat but can’t get enough power.
She stumbles over Jason’s body and falls to the ground, loosening the walker’s grip. She crawls away, but he still towers over her. She’s crying. She can feel the tears on her cheeks as she gasps and crawls for her life. But she’s not fast enough.
This thing grabs her by the foot and drags her back. She grips at the ground, screaming and crying, knowing there’s no one to hear her.
She can smell it’s breath, which surprisingly smells even worse than decaying flesh, when a gunshot goes off. The walker falls on top of her, dead. It takes a second to process, but as soon as she is over the shock, she pushes the body off her and jumps up.
Her heart rate is through the roof. She can’t seem to catch her breath.
She looks for her savior and her eyes find the striking blonde hair at the other end of the aisle.
And her hair’s not the only thing that’s striking about her. Those blue eyes could pierce through a walker’s skull on their own. She smiles and it’s the first sign of light in a long time.
The gun in her hand is still smoking.
“You okay?” the girl asks, and the soft Australian accent isn’t lost on her. The girl slips the gun back into its holster, where she spots two more guns and an axe.
“W-who—I mean— how—um, thank you,” she stutters out.
The girl smiles again. “Name’s Elyza. Elyza Lex.”
A hand is offered out, and she tentatively grasps it. It’s hard and calloused, and strong.
“Alicia,” she replies. “Alicia Clark.”
“Well Alicia,” Elyza says, “I could’ve told you there were walkers in here. Usually avoid this place.”
Alicia swallows thickly. “I-I needed food.”
Elyza looks around. “You alone?” Slowly, Alicia nods. Elyza sighs, then offers her hand to Alicia once again. “Come with me.”
Alicia doesn’t take her hand immediately. She doesn’t want to. This girl, this stranger, comes in and she’s supposed to just trust her? Then again, Elyza did save her life. But that didn’t mean anything. What motive did she even have, risking her life to save someone she didn’t even know? It was kill or be killed now. You look out for your own. But Alicia doesn’t have anyone of her own. Not anymore.
Alicia’s stomach growls audibly and she blushes. Elyza lets out the softest laugh and it’s quite a beautiful sound. Maybe it had just been too long since Alicia had heard the sound of anyone’s laughter.
“I have food,” Elyza says. “And I can take care of that nasty cut on your arm.”
Alicia glances down at where the glass sliced open her skin. She had forgotten about that, but now that she’s thinking about it, it’s starting to sting.
She looks back up and meets Elyza’s eyes. Piercing blue eyes. And Alicia doesn’t know why, but she trusts those eyes.
She takes Elyza’s hand.