{ dol — sam (meeting chris pt.3) }

After walking for another hour or so, we come to a furniture warehouse and decide we’ll rest there for the remainder of the night. Having lost our backpacks, all we had now was an M9 rifle, a knife, a lighter and the clothes on our backs. Needless to say, we would have to resupply the next day. It was frustrating, because now we had no food and I knew Alex was hungry.

Chris took off his over shirt, wrapped it around his fist and punched through the glass door to the furniture store. The glass shattered to the floor and we went in. It was fully intact, with furniture still displayed throughout the entire store. In the back I could faintly see bedroom showcases. Thank god the moon was bright that night.

“Alex, look.” I stepped over to her and pointed to the back of the store. She sighed in relief.

“Oh thank god…”

She started to walk away but I grabbed her hand to stop her. I made sure Eric was out of hearing range when I spoke, but he was eyeballing me.

“Do you know that guy?” I whisper to her, shifting my eyes toward him.

“Yes.” She mumbled, her voice sounded off.

“Do you feel safe around him? Because I have no problem telling him to kick rocks.”

She smiled, looking towards him.

“No, it’s okay. You can trust him.”

I nodded but I felt uneasy about it. Something about him just made me feel untrusting.

She started to walk away, towards the bed. I figured she was tired.

“Hey, Alex?” I called to her.

She turned slightly.

“You gonna be okay here alone? I’m gonna go find some food.”

“You don’t have to do that tonight, Sam…”

“Yeah, I do. Just make sure to block the door on my way out, okay? I’ll knock 5 times when I get back, so you’ll know it’s me.”

She sighed but I could tell she was grateful.

“Be careful.”

“Don’t worry.” I smiled, and with that I walked towards the door. Chris was putting his over shirt back on when I approached. He looked at me questioningly, as I made my way towards the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

I stopped in the doorway and turned to him.

“I have to find food for her.”

He stared at me as he spoke, buttoning his shirt.

“You do realize that; number one, people are looking for you to kill you, and two, it’s night time?” he hooked the M4 onto his back.

I groaned.

“Yes, I realize. But it doesn’t change the fact that she needs to eat.”

I turned to leave but before I could even make it out the door, he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and pulled me back. I almost lost my balance, but regained myself before falling backwards.

“What the fuck are you do — ”

“I need to check your head.”

He was behind me, looking closely at the back of my skull. It irritated me.

“I don’t need you to check my head.” I tried to pull away, but he kept his grip firmly on my collar, preventing me from moving.

“Don’t be an idiot. You could have a concussion.”

“I feel fine.” I said through my teeth.

“Fine. Let’s go.” He let go and walked towards and out the door, not waiting for my response.

What the fuck was with him? I rushed out to catch up, walking beside him now.

“I don’t really need your help.”

“I know that.”

“Then why are you following me?”

“I’m not following you. You’re following me.” He smirked.

I was starting to feel annoyed.

“Hey, don’t get huffy with me. I’m on my own mission.”

“Oh yeah, and what's that?”

“I’m in search of a medical kit, for your head.”

I groaned in frustration, almost sounding like a dog growling. He only laughed.

“Don’t be so angry, you’ll get a headache.”

He was infuriating but I tried to ignore it as he walked on, turning down another street. I guess he had an idea of where we were going, because I had no clue.

After a few minutes of silence, I grew curious.

“Chris, right? Why were you with those guys anyway?”

His demeanor changed instantly, from carefree to detached.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

I didn’t really understand but I decided not to ask anymore about it. He obviously didn’t like thinking about it. But I wondered just how he could have been apart of the things they were thinking of doing. Had they done it before? Was he apart of it before us? It was a scary thought to think he may be just as crazy as the rest of them, and now he was hanging out with us. Why did he have a sudden change of heart?

He interrupted my thoughts when he spoke.

“Here’s the neighborhood marketplace.” He turned into the parking lot and I followed. The place still had cars parked in the lot.

The door had already been broken, so I had slim hopes of finding much inside, but we ducked inside and walked cautiously through the entrance, past the checkout counters and into the aisles. It was difficult to see, and I guess Chris could tell what I was thinking because he revealed his lighter — a zippy — and flicked it on.

The both of us stuck together so that we could see, moving up and down the mostly emptied aisles. I managed to find some canned food, however, and grabbed as many cans as I could carry.

“Do you think they have backpacks here?” I asked him, my hands full.

“I’m not sure. Should I ask someone?” he smiled and turned, as if searching for a clerk.

How could he be so easygoing?

He disappeared down the aisle, and left me in the dark. After a minute or so, he came back around the corner, pushing a grocery cart in front of him.

“Will this work?”

I dropped my armful of canned foods into the cart, feeling relieved of the weight.

“Thanks…”

“Since we have this, we should take as much as possible and figure out the backpack thing tomorrow.”

“Sounds good…”

We gathered whatever was edible, nearly filling the cart halfway, and some useful items; bowls, spoons, a manual can opener. We were even lucky enough to find bottled water. A 12 pack case.

Chris even found some cotton balls and rubbing alcohol, although I had no intentions of letting him use it on me.

We headed out, pulling the cart out through the broken glass and out the door. It was kind of loud, rattling across the concrete, but we found that the slower we went, the quieter it was, so we walked slow. Very, painfully slow.

“Are you from Sacramento?” Chris suddenly asked.

“No. Just passing through. You?” I was surprised I had asked, taking any interest at all.

“Yeah, I lived here. Once upon a time, anyway.”

That explained how he knew about the store. And the furniture place.

“Are you actually a soldier, or…?”

“No, I am. I’m the real deal.” He pushed the cart along, and we turned down the next street. I was getting more curious by the minute.

“So how did you end up back in Sacramento? I mean, shouldn’t you be in Iraq or something?”

He chuckled. “Well, yeah. Something like that. But I was on leave, for personal reasons.”

“So then you got stuck here, because of the virus?”

“That about sums it up.”

The furniture store was in the distance. We would be there soon.

“Why did you even come back knowing the virus was spreading?”

“I didn’t know.”

We walked up the driveway, towards the door. It was barricaded now, just as I asked Alex to do. I was glad she listened.

“Wait, how did you not know? It was all over the news.”

“Didn’t watch a lot of news.” He raised his hand and knocked 5 times. He must had overheard me talking to Alex. Didn’t seem like much slipped past this guy.

After a few minutes, I could hear Alex and the new guy moving the furniture away from the door. Once it was clear, Chris pushed the cart inside and Alex’s eyes lit up with happiness. She started digging through the food immediately, as Chris and I moved the large bookcase back in front of the door.

Luckily the display windows let enough moonlight in so that we could kind of see what we were doing. Everyone grabbed some canned food and we took turns using the can opener, then scarfed it all down without saying much to each other. I thought everyone must have been really hungry.

After we ate, Alex looked exhausted, and she went to lie down on one of the display bedrooms. I told her goodnight, and made sure that Eric guy found his own area. He did.

I found my own bed, as well, and sat down, feeling completely worn out. We had been up and walking since the early morning and I had to guess it was at least 2 or 3 am by now. I seriously needed some sleep. Plus the whole ordeal with those soldiers just mentally drained me.

I lay down and thought about the whole situation again. I knew I should feel incredibly grateful to Chris for risking his own ass to save us, but I was suspicious of why. I was curious about his story, his motives.

I was about to close my eyes when he walked up to the end of my bed and nudged it with his knee. When I looked up, I saw the rubbing alcohol and cotton balls in his hands, and I sighed dramatically.

“You’re just not gonna leave me alone, are you?”

“If you don’t treat it properly, it could get infected.”

“Ugh, fine.”

I sat up and turned away from him, so that he could see the back of my head. My body was tense and my mind was tired. I really just wanted to go to bed, but I knew he was right.

I felt him sit down behind me and heard him ruffling through the plastic cotton ball bag. After a few seconds, I felt a cold, sharp sting on my head where he applied the rubbing alcohol. I took in a breath sharply, feeling the sting intensify with every passing second. It burned like a bitch and took all I had not to swing around and make him stop.

“Why couldn’t you get peroxide?” I said through grit teeth.

“Oh, I’m sorry. They were sold out.” He dabbed a few more times, cleaning the wound.

When he finally finished, I let out a long, relieved breath. It still stung a little, but it was fading out now.

“Okay then. You should survive.” He said, standing up. He grabbed all the used cotton balls and tossed them across the room.

“Another bonus of the apocalypse: I don’t have to clean up after myself.” He smiled at me, turned and walked away.

What an oddball.