Lorna’s fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, her bright teal nail varnish chipped and clearly hadn’t been tidied for a couple of weeks. She’d last done them the night before she’d left her flat, which felt more like months ago than a couple of weeks. Her supplies were lasting well though, she still had enough food to last another couple of weeks, but she really didn’t have much of a clue where she was going. Lorna had started off from her flat in California and headed north, she’d heard someone say Canada hadn’t been hit yet, but things hadn’t looked like they were getting any better as she moved north, so instead she had gone east.
Washington DC. There would be people there, safety. The Government, they couldn’t all be gone. There had to be protocol in place for things like this, right? They would be safe. There would be a military presence and flights to safety. Maybe Europe hadn’t been hit yet. Lorna hadn’t paid much attention to the news and what had been happening until the guy in the flat across the hall had lunged at her when she’d been coming come one night - putting a more literal sense to the words ‘eat your face’ than with his previous come ons. She had managed to slam the door in his face before he’s got his teeth into her though and from then on Lorna had kept the news on, picking up on odd bits and bobs as she’d freaked out completely.
Lorna had stayed in her flat for a week, before realising she wouldn’t be able to stay there forever. Most of her friends weren’t answering their phones, Facebook was dead and she knew there wasn’t much else she could do apart from wait here to die, either when the walkers realised she was here and broke in, or if they didn’t discover her she would simply starve to death eventually.
So she had spent an evening painting her nails, watching a film on her laptop before the battery had died and making herself feel like she was back in her old life for just a few hours. Then she had set out.
Lorna really had no clue how she had managed so far. Filling her car with gas, stopping at a supermarket to stock up on tinned food (she’d been surprised the place hadn’t already been looted - other than the alcohol). There had been a couple of near misses on her journey, but the baseball bat on the seat beside her had done its work and Lorna had found a strength which she’d never realised she’d had. And she didn’t want to have to use it again, but she knew she may well have to.
And it might be sooner than she wanted to. Night had fallen and Lorna had realised her car was getting lower on gas than she was happy with. She had thanked heaven that her ex had drummed it into her to always have spare gas in the boot, but she’d used that up so that would need a refill too.
Her long blonde hair was tied back in a tousled ponytail, greasy after not washing it for days, but falling in loose curls. She desperately wanted a shower, but had washed as best she could with a bottle of water she kept in the car. Everything was in this car. Apart from more gas.
She had honked her horn a few times and waited in the forecourt of the gas station, as she usually did. If there were walkers close and out in the open, hopefully they would make themselves known before she got up the nerve to leave her car. She’d learnt this method pretty quickly. They were attracted to noise, and if the honking horn didn’t get their attention then hopefully her filling her car and extra tank wouldn’t either. The place looked abandoned, the front door smashed in and across the front window the word ‘CLOSED’ was scrawled with what Lorna hoped was red paint.
Of course, there were always humans to be worried about as well. And there had been rumours of creatures who were smarter than most of the zombies, who could move quickly and drank blood rather than eating flesh. She hadn’t run into any of those yet and it was possible they were nothing more than rumours.
After fifteen minutes, Lorna cautious opened her door, curling her fingers around her bat. She’d already slipped on her small rucksack which held emergency supplies in case she had to abandon her car. She shut the door behind her and her bright blue eyes scanned the area quickly as she moved to the pump, praying that it would still be working. Her prayers were answered as it rumbled into life, filling her tank. She gave a quiet sigh, relaxing slightly as she spun her bat in her hand her eyes still scanning, although she wished her had a free hand for her flashlight. The flickering light by the gas pump was automatic, but didn’t give too much light other than shining a beacon on her whereabouts. In the warm weather she was wearing a simple black tank top and form fitting denim jeans which were comfortable for driving for a long time. Sneakers were on her feet, comfortable and easy to run in. There was no point dressing up nowadays.
