Hold the Line (in progress)

"What I always wanted to see was ground zero, you know. You always seen things like "such and such days later," "the day after whatever," or how the survivors escape or get eaten at the end. But you never get to see what happens right at the start. Right when the zombie attacks start and how people react and how these survivors got to where they were."

I stumbled a little through the snow but kept my grip on a little cylinder of mace. It was nice piece that my cousin had beaded and given to me when I left home. The wind and the cold kept the snow dancing like sand in a spring squall and fucked with my inner ear just enough to make me sick. But I was alone at night and on my way out of downtown; I had no time to be sick.

Walk. Just walk walk walk. I felt my sensations begin to flare. Every step became a chorus: cold feet in stiff shoes connected to sore legs chapped by the wind with my belt tightened too far against extra layers of clothing. My face burned slightly against the alcohol and the cold.

The buzz of nightlife faded away into quiet ice-stricken streets. I lived just outside the downtown core in a historic district. It was poorly lit and kept me on edge every time I passed through.

I held my grip tight on my pepper spray and kept half a breath in my lungs in case I needed to scream. I don't think it would have mattered. It was so deserted because of the cold snap. I kept my head down and just chanted a single syllable to myself over and over again. “Walk, walk, walk, walk...” Every corner around me took on extra significance. Hiding places for malevolent creatures and spirits from old dusty stories my relatives would tell. The trash on the street whispered by and sent a shiver sideways across my body.

I saw my alley up ahead in that permanent amber twilight that comes with snow. I stopped under street light hanging over a corner and dug through my purse for my keys. In the event of an attack I now had a set of keys to stab with in one hand and my mace still on alert.

Walk walk walk. Tromp tromp, slide. At the door, Jon let me in. I stepped in and put him between me and the outside before holstering my weapons.