Chapter 9

( Fight Me )

Hollyn’s Point of View

In a strange, macabre kind of way, the zombie apocalypse was almost relaxing. I normally wouldn’t have had an opportunity to travel across the country with my friends. I had always wanted to travel, but I never seems to have the time or money to do it. Everything was so expensive, and it was too dangerous to go alone, so I never got the chance to go and see the beauty of the country I lived in. Now was the first time in ages that I had gotten to see more than my backwoods little town, and really explore.

I had to admit though, Kansas was getting a little boring. It was not the most beautiful place I'd been, and the scenery was monotonous. It was practically the same thing over and over again; grass, rocks, hills, dirt, and repeat. The only thing that was really keeping me entertained was the constant, playful fighting between Jimin and Yoongi.

Today, Yoongi started off by making fun of how short Jimin was. Which, of course, struck an obvious nerve with Jimin. He launched into argument, and the two began bickering immediately, leaving me to watch in amused silence from the backseat. Yoongi was driving now, three hours into the argument, and was saying that he was better because he was taller. Jimin would counter with a whine and complain that Yoongi was only a centimeter taller, which hardly counted at all.

I was laughing from the back seat, propping my elbow up on the window and watching Jimin’s face redden indignantly with every word out of Yoongi’s mouth. The hot, dry wind whipped through my hair and I pushed it back, listening attentively to the argument. In the back of my mind, I knew I could shut both of them up, but I didn’t want to just yet. I was taller then them both, but I preferred not to draw attention to it. I didn't need to remind them again and make them both gang up on me. That argument would never end.

A few hours later, once the argument had died down and shifted into more casual conversation and long, lulling silences, Yoongi pulled the van over at a gas station. It was the first place we'd seen almost all day-- not counting the one that was nothing more than a burned out shell of a building, and some twisted metal boxes that might have been gas pumps. The van was practically running on fumes. We wouldn't have made it much further, so we had no choice but to stop.

I hopped out of the backseat and stretched. The joints in my back and neck all popped and I let out a sigh. Sitting in a car all day was way more exhausting than I ever thought it would be.

Yoongi got out and stretched as well, muttering curses under his breath as his joints all cracked. I had to stifle a laugh. The poor guy was looking more like a grandpa everyday, and his dyed gray hair was not helping. He looked up at me and scowled, as if he read my thoughts. I flashed a smile and muttered, “Grandpa.”

Jimin let out a bark of laughter from the other side of Yoongi. His smile stretched from ear to ear, lighting up his face. I couldn't help but grin, too. Yoongi kicked at Jimin half-heartedly, but Jimin danced out of the way.

“Shut up and go get some supplies before I decide to set you both on fire,” Yoongi threatened, glancing back at me. I rolled my eyes and made a face at him, but did what he said anyway.

Yoongi started gassing up the van, and Jimin and I headed inside the station.

The gas station was like so many others we'd seen-- dusty, dirty, and seemingly uninhabited. Still, it seemed like a saving grace. The shelves were still mostly stocked, and there were plenty of supplies here that we'd been looking for. Including some things that could be used as weapons. It must have something to do with how out-of-the-way this place is, without any other buildings around for hundreds of miles. No one wanted to come all this way to ransack this one building, so it was left to rot. It was almost sad to think about, but it worked out well for us.

I hitched my backpack up higher on my shoulder and glanced at Jimin, who was surveying the aisles with a careful eye. He looked thoughtful, his face set in a rare, serious expression. He reaches up and tugged his ball cap lower, then looked over at me. I quickly looked away, and moved toward the nearest aisle.

I shook my head, and out of the corner of my eye, I could pick out Jimin’s familiar smirk.

Just friends, I reminded myself. You do not have a crush on him.

Walking through the aisle, I quickly snatched up handfuls of food that didn’t look moldy, or expired. I stuffed it in my backpack and moved on, continuing to the next aisle to grab water. Jimin hummed quietly to himself in the next aisle over.

A few moments later, I found myself in the candy aisle. I was staring at the shelves, lost in thought, when I felt a familiar hand snake around my waist. My heart nearly stopped.

“You know,” he said sweetly, “Yoongi’s gonna be awhile… And we finally have some alone time… Maybe we should put it to good use.”

My face flushed, and Jimin chuckled, reaching up to poke at my cheek gently. He rested his chin on my shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “You're blushing, Hollyn,” he said. I scowled and elbowed him in the ribs, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to give him a warning. I slipped out of his arms and shook my head. He stared at me, still wearing that sweet, yet sly grin. I hated that he could do this to me. I shouldn't get so flustered around him, but I do. I can't help it. He's my weakness.

My blush deepened and I glared at him. “Yes, I'm blushing. Congratulations for noticing. Now please, stop making fun of me and finish grabbing supplies. We need to leave soon,” I said in a rush. My chest tightened and Jimin’s face fell.

That's all it was, anyway. He was making fun of me. He was a flirt, and he liked to tease, and I was an easy target. It wasn't anything more than that. It couldn't be. I turned before Jimin could say anything else and ran to the next aisle, my heart pumping.

As soon as Jimin was out of sight, I slapped a hand against my forehead in frustration. I didn't know what to think. I couldn't tell if Jimin was being serious, and that terrified me. I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship, and tear our little group apart if I said something and I was wrong. But still, he was practically offering himself up on a silver platter. Maybe he was serious. Maybe he meant something with his constant touches and easy flirtation. Maybe he liked me as much as I liked him. So what the hell was stopping me?

I leaned my forehead against a dusty shelf and closed my eyes briefly. I just didn't know. All these questions were running through my mind so fast that I could barely keep up. I was so focused on them, in fact, that I barely heard the quiet creak of a door toward the back of the store.

At the sudden noise, I pick my head up off the shelf and snap my gaze toward the back of the store. My blood ran cold, and I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. What was that?  

“Jimin, was that you?” I called, hoping he'd gone to the back in search of more supplies.

“Was what me?” He asked. He appeared around the corner of my aisle, and walked over to me. I stared at him, my mind going blank. If he was here, then someone-- or something-- was in the back.

My eyes darkened. I reached behind me and my fingers curled around the of my gun. I pulled it free and put a finger to my lips, and nodded toward the back. Jimin’s expression clouded over, and he nodded back, copying my movements and pulling out his own gun. We crept silently toward the back, keeping our eyes and ears peeled.

We moved around the last aisle and came face to face with the back wall, and a single wooden door that had a worn sign proclaiming: Staff Only. It didn't look like much, and it certainly didn't look like a place a zombie would be locked in, but you never knew with these kind of things. Anything could be behind that door. I glanced up at Jimin and flicked the safety off in my gun. We approached the door and I could hear muffled sounds coming from behind it.

Jimin and I looked at each other and communicated silently for a moment. Jimin quietly moved forward, lifting his gun so it pointed at the ceiling. I shifted around so I was standing directly in front of the door, about eight feet back. I raised my gun. Jimin looked at me again, his face grim. I nodded and he mouthed, “One.” I looked back at the door and tightened my grip on my gun.

When he got to three, Jimin ripped the door open and jumped back next to me, lifting his gun. I was about to pull my trigger when I registered someone screaming.

“Wait! Wait! We’re human! Don’t shoot us!” A higher pitched voice rang out, giving me pause. My finger twitched against the trigger, then lifted off completely. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see into the shadows of the supply closet. I can make out three shapes, little more than vague outlines with bright eyes and pale faces. The one in the center is much smaller than the other two, with a more slender figure. A girl? I hadn't seen another girl in months.

The three figures stepped out slowly from the closet, with hands raised. The taller figures were boys, tall and thin, one with blonde hair and the other with black. They eyed my gun warily, and s