The moon came and went. Before I knew it, dawn was upon us once more. I stared out at the vast wilderness ahead. It was so fucking beautiful. Nothing like the concrete jungles of Los Angeles. I found myself thinking then; I could get used to this.

After smoking my daily blunt, I made my way back to camp to help Nigel pack. "Here, let me do it." Nigel interrupted me as I began unhooking our tent. I let him take over and made my way over to pack the smaller stuff instead. His actions would've been easy to dismiss, to pass off as a simple helpful gesture; except he'd been doing that since I'd woken from my mini coma.

"Wait. You shouldn't carry that by yourself!" Nigel scolded when he saw me hoisting our dinner kit over my free shoulder. "Dude. Relax! You patched me up remember? I'm golden." I assured as he reached for the bag. "You're arm is still broken." He reminded, his hand extended and fingers apart as he waited for me to hand it over.

I pushed past him leaving him hanging as I tapped his arm with my cast. "Doesn't hurt anymore." I assured, knowing my consideration for his worries would be in vain. I was beginning to feel like Nigel had forgotten who'd helped him when we'd first met. After we'd packed everything, we set off in search of intelligent life.

A good portion of our trek was silent. I listened to music for more than half of it, tuning out the rest of the world. Nigel didn't seem to mind whenever I did that, taking solace in the silence to gather his thoughts and decipher the map he carried. Nearly two hours later, we found the road. The feel of hard asphalt beneath the soles of my boots felt strange; Foreign almost. I'd gotten used to the uneven terrain of the forest.

Habitually I glanced around every now and then, fully expecting to see cars, or zombies; The latter being more possible. We did pass a few crawlers, not really worth wasting our ammo on. No way they could pose a threat without their bottom half.

That was one of the things that didn't make sense about this stupid virus. How could they even move? It had to be something in their brains. That had to be the only way a bled out corpse like that could function. I looked up from the cracks that covered the road when Nigel tapped me. I lowered my headphones, letting them hang round my neck as I turned to him.

"What's up?" I asked curiously, shifting my backpack higher on my shoulder. "Would you mind if we stop here? I'm running a little low on clothes." Nigel admitted, showing me a tear he had on his side. "Pfft. That's the new trend. All the cool kids be sporting split seams." I teased, to which he responded with a chuckle.

"Oh I'm sure. But alas I'm not a cool kid. I'm more of a-
"Nerd." He furrowed his brows. "No."
"A country boy." I countered. "Well, yes but-"
"A rich kid!" I shouted my answer like I was on family feud. "Thank you, Nathan!" Nigel huffed with an eye roll. His exasperation made me laugh as I followed him to the front of the store. I cocked my bow right by the entrance, while Nigel went on ahead.

Once I was ready, I pushed my way through the glass doors. "Jeezuz." I muttered to myself when I laid eyes on the over turned shelves and racks. All the cash registers had been emptied along with the jewelry counters. Mannequins littered the floor. Others stood there ominously, covered by a blanket of dust.

The area with the shoes was no better, a large portion of them were torn or missing the pair. "Bet this store's seen better days huh?" I called after Nigel but he was out of earshot, having just walked into the next section of the store where all the packed merchandise was stored.

I took my time making my way there. So far there hadn't been any noise or sign of movement so I assumed we were in the clear. "Yes." I hissed with glee as I picked up a hunting knife from behind the broken counter. It was beautiful, with a carved handle and a gold rivet at the base. Happy with my find, I made my way to the back where Nigel had disappeared to.

"Nathan!" I broke into a sprint the last few steps when I heard his cry. My shoes slid to the entrance where I came face to face with a miniature horde. Sleeping bags and cans littered the floor, a tell-tale sign of their last stand. "Shit!" I screamed when I saw Nigel cornered by one of the grossest zombies I'd ever seen. "Oh fuck!" I cussed when a redheaded corpse lunged at me.

"Jessica! I need to speak to your manager!" I yelled, noting the name tag that clung from her rotted bosom as she tried to bite me. I backed up, jumping on one of the benches people used to try on shoes. I aimed and fired, my bolt skewering her head and destroying the brain. I jumped over the twitching corpse and sprinted back into the storage.

"Nigel!" I screamed as I saw his back press against the wall. "Nigel move!" I shouted, but he was frozen with terror. I was just a few shelves away when a fucking crawler grabbed my ankle. "Fuck off!" I screamed and tapped my free heel, triggering the switch blade from my boot. With an aggressive kick I impaled the bastard's temple as he tried biting into my magazine armor.

It wasn't enough to kill him, but it was enough for him to let go. I then drove the hunting knife down on his skull and pinned his head to the ground. Brain matter spilled out from beneath his jaw. I yanked the pick back out and wiped the putrid blood off on my pants as I continued to run.

I was almost there when some hippie bitch jumped me from behind a dresser. She knocked me onto my back, causing the knife to slip from my hands. "Aghh!" I growled as she bit down on my cast. The pressure hurt my arm, but I couldn't be held up any longer; Nigel was in trouble.

I took advantage of the adrenaline that coursed through my veins and ignored the pain. With all my might, I shoved the cast even farther into the zombie's mouth. I pushed her back until I was able to get on my feet.

Once I regained my footing I reached for one of the pole hooks that hung beside us, and rammed it through her eye socket. I spun it around, scrambling her brain just enough to sever the connection. The heavy thud her body made resonated beneath my shoes as I turned the last corner.

"Fuck no." Nigel panted as he pressed himself tightly against the wall. My stomach turned when I looked at the thing up close. Dozens of tiny holes dotted it's discolored skin. Spiders could be seen crawling in and out of the overinflated pores. My stomach turned when I noticed the way the dead skin wriggled; It was a nest. Full of bugs beneath the surface. Decapitating it could prove disastrous. I cursed to myself as I looked around frantically for another solution.

"Nate!" Nigel's choked scream prompted me to act. I jumped over one of the lower shelves and yanked a hairspray bottle from the bin that stored them. "Duck!" I screamed, to which Nigel reflexively obeyed. "See you in hell fucker." I hissed as I sparked my lighter and blasted the hairspray through it, creating a giant flame. A high-pitched scream rang out as I fried the undead vessel and every creepy crawler inside.

Once I saw it fall lifelessly to the ground, I stopped my firey stream. "Nigel!" I screamed then, tossing the empty can aside as I crouched beside him. "Are you okay? Were you bit!?" I asked, frantically expecting him for wounds.

"N-no, I'm fine. I dropped my sword when he rushed me and I...I don't know. The way he looked, with the holes and the spiders; I couldn't move." He admitted, his breathing hitched and his complexion pale.
It took me a few seconds to understand. "Hey, listen to my voice. I'm here, it's over." I assured, placing both hands on his shoulders to ground him. "Breathe in and out." I reminded, trying to ease his nerves and the panic that had clouded his vision. It took a few minutes but eventually, he focused on me.

"Thank you, Nathan. If it hadn't been for you, I would've been a goner." He admitted. "Never thought I'd actually be hindered by my Trypophobia." He chuckled anxiously. "It's more common than you think. I have it too." I admitted as I stood and picked up his sword. "How were you able to remain so calm?" He asked when I turned. "I wasn't facing it." I reminded, holding out my hand for him to take. "But how did you know that fire would work?" He asked placing his clammy hand in mine. "Because I'm Nathan fucking Hart."