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wannawritesometimes t1_j51cuu0 wrote

"Come on," I hiss the words over my shoulder, "we can hide in there."

Joe nods. He takes a moment to shove a few things into his backpack and free up his hands. As he slides his arms back into the shoulder straps, he nods once more. Both of us crouching in the tall weeds, we move out.

We've nearly made it to the door of the diner when something growls behind us. Neither of us wastes time turning to look. The pounding of feet behind us and the growing smell of death are enough information.

Together, we leap up and bolt forward. My heart hammers against my ribs. We're sprinting as hard as we can, but it feels like we're not getting any closer. The monster is gaining ground. Barely slowing my stride, I reach down and grab a rock. I spin around and swing the stone hard. It connects with the zombie's shoulder and throws my attacker off balance, sending it stumbling off to the side. By the time I spin back toward the building, Joe has the door held open wide. He ushers me through, yanks the door closed again, and twists the deadbolt into place.

I slump back against the wall with my eyes closed, fighting for my breath. Joe leans over, one hand against the stitch in his side, the other bracing himself against his knee. The zombie roars and pounds its fists against the tempered glass. We know it won't hold forever, but for now at least, it's enough.

"Hey there."

My eyes fly open and Joe darts upright at the unexpected voice.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle y'all."

I gape at the woman as my mind slowly finds its way out of fight-or-flight mode. She's wearing a blue shirt with a smudged, illegible nametag. Her brown hair sits atop her head in a messy rat's nest of curls. I can't quite pull my eyes away from her to look over at Joe, but I'm sure his brain is going through the same.

"Y'all two go on and sit just anywhere." Squeezing past the pair of us, she twists open the deadbolt and slides a dagger from the sheath on her hip. "I'll be there in a minute."

Joe and I scoot away, slowly backing towards a table while still staring at the woman. She shoves open the glass door, deftly shoves the blade through the creature's temple, wipes the dagger off on the leg of her jeans, returns the weapon to its sheath, then strides over to our table.

The woman smiles. "Hi, I'm Marge. So, what'll y'all have? I'm runnin' a bit low on supplies at the moment, so selection's not the best. But I've still got some bread and cheese. Pretty sure there's a couple of eggs left. Oh, there's still a couple of burger patties and fries."

"Uh..."

Joe and I stare at each other for a beat before turning back to her.

"Tell you what. I'll just run to the back and see what I can whip up."

Before we can gather our wits, the woman disappears to the back.

"What the..."

"I don't know." Joe leans across the table and whispers to me, "What does she expect in return for this? It's not like money is still worth anything these days. Not that we have any anyway. But I'm sure she's goi–"

Joe clamps his mouth shut and leans back in his seat as Marge reappears. His movements are obviously conspicuous, but Marge just smiles.

"I made you a bacon cheeseburger." She sets down one of the plates and slides it in front of Joe. "No onions or tomatoes left. And sorry that there ain't any more ketchup, so it might be a touch dry. You look like you could use the protein, honey."

"And for you," she sets the second plate in front of me, "I've made a couple of overeasy eggs, some toast, and a few canned peas. Oh! And I almost forgot, I still got a blueberry pie left. I'll slice you both off a bit of that when you're ready."

"Uh... Thank y–"

Before I can get my word out, Joe interrupts. "What's in this for you? Money isn't any good these days."

"Oh," Marge waves, nonchalantly. "Whatever y'all can offer. Bandages, meds, You know, just whatever you can spare."

The woman prepares to turn away, but then stops and looks back at us. "And, I'm a decent enough cook with no reason to harm ya. So, there's a meal for ya. Take it or leave it."

As she disappears to the back, I stare at the warm food. I'd been a bit hesitant at first, but after days of nothing but dandelions, wild onions, and a few roasted crickets, well I just can't resist. By the time I look up again, Joe has polished off his food as well and Marge is heading back toward us.

"Thank you, Marge." I reach over and start rifling through my pouch. "I've got a few over-the-counter medications you can have. Some toothpicks. A manicure kit with a nail file and some clippers. Um..."

The woman's smile manages to grow even bigger as she looks into my bag. She points inside at something. "You wanna part with those?"

I stare at her and then back into the bag, certain I've misunderstood. "It's the apocalypse and you want some vinyl records?"

"Yeah, honey. I got enough food and drink for a good, long while yet. I got some meds. Even got a nice hammock and a decent weapon supply. Goodness, I've even got myself a record player, but ain't got nothin' to play on it."

"Sure!" I pull the records from the bag and thrust them toward her.

A noise from the doorway draws everyone's attention. Three zombies start to pound on the glass pane. Joe and I stand up, gather our things, and get ready to bolt to the rear exit, fully expecting Marge to join. Instead, she shoos us away.

"Door's back around that corner. I can handle these three, easy."

Unsure, we move to the back of the building as Marge makes her way toward the front. We stop and gesture for her to join. She shakes her head and grins. "I got this. Come on back real soon though!"

The woman places her hand against the door handle and lifts the blade, ready to attack. "Don't forget your pie there on the counter! Go on and take the whole thing now, those records just saved my sanity!"

As we make our escape – warm blueberry pie in hand – we hear the last of the zombie's growls fade into silence. The front door chimes behind us one last time and we know that Marge is going to make it through this apocalypse just fine.

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r/WannaWriteSometimes

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