Not Far

Jean is subjected to a rude awakening when she parts ways with her best friend. She makes her way to Washington D.C. before finally running into a group of survivors, but is she in for more than she bargained for? Will she slowly lose her mind in this lonely world of devastation and no hope?

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13. Water

Sunlight flooded the room the next morning, waking me up. I was still in my attire from the night before. I sat up, lifting my arms to stretch. The lines from the pillows and sheets decorated my arms looking like my veins had etched themselves into my arms. The laces of my corset had made a mark on my skin as well, along with hickies in places only I could see.

  Owen stirred beside me, turning over and away from the window. I gently ran my fingers through his hair soft, brown hair. His face scrunched up before he slowly opened his eyes. I smiled down at him, my heart fluttering as he simply stared at me curiously.

  "What?" I inquired. He laced his fingers within mine, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb.

  "I can't believe we did it." He stated quietly, a small smile on his face. I nodded happily. He stood from the bed, the blankets still on his legs got dragged off with him and I was left to deal with the chilly air. He grabbed his clothes from the edge of the bed, dressing himself and getting ready for the day. Before he left the room, he turned to me, a bright smile on his face.

  "I'm going out today. If you couldn't tell, we're running low on supplies and we're gonna need a hell of a lot more than what we have now considering your condition." He smiled. I looked down, realizing he was leaving me yet again. It was understandable, things were becoming harder to find and people were harder to kill and steal from. Everyone has learned to fight off enemies.

  "What are you waiting for? Get dressed." My head shot up and I stared at him in disbelief. I was going with him? He wasn't going to be ridiculously overbearing?

  "I'm going with you?" I asked dumbly. He nodded as he put his pale, greying, frayed coat on. In the blink of an eye, I was out of bed, undoing my corset and throwing on my neatly folded clothing. I slid out of my garter belt and socks before finally realizing that I wasn't wearing underwear. My cheeks heated as I dug in the desk drawer for a new pair of panties.

  As soon as I was dressed, I was out of the building. A dark grey duffle-bag was slung over my shoulder and my sledgehammer was clasped firmly in my left hand as I stood beside Owen. He gave orders to Edward, who gave me the usual subtle glare. The hot Virginia sun beat down on us as we made our way across the shade-free courtyard. The chain-link fence gate opened slowly, and it closed with a loud crash.

  Owen had taken my hand within his, squeezing it at random moments. Although, I did have a sudden moment of doubt while we ventured across the vast fields and forests. What if he was planning on leaving me once again? This concept was not completely inconceivable; he'd done it so many times before, what was stopping him now? The mere fact that I was pregnant?

  My suspicions were quickly dismissed as we approached an abandoned parking lot.  He started looting old cars, breaking the windows with rocks and killing whatever corpses were still locked within before unlocking and prying the doors open. I followed his lead and smashed through one of the windows with my hammer, using it to clear the glass to avoid getting cut. I found old CD's, a few I actually stuffed into my bag, but that's all I could find. I looked over at Owen, who seemed to be having as much luck as I was.

  I straightened up after looting the rest of the cars on the right, finding nothing but small things like chapstick and CD's. I looked toward one of the other cars and watched Owen emerge, covered in walker blood. He walked toward me, smiling as he held out a cooler. I pursed my lips, unsure of what good that would do us.

  "A cooler?" I inquired rhetorically, not really expecting much of an answer or explanation from him. He simply nodded before placing the item on the ground. I rolled my eyes and pointed to the one car near the back of the lot.

  "Have you checked that one yet?" I asked. He shook his head and walked toward it, not considering if I wanted to check it or not. He busted the window open, and immediately I regretted not being closer. He wasn't fast enough and a pair of hands burst out, grabbing his shirt. A series of growls and gargles came from within the car as he struggled to free himself. My eyes filled with tears, but I blinked them away. I then rushed to his aid, my sledgehammer gripped firmly within my palms. In one swift motion, I had removed one of the walker's arms, the blood splattering onto my arms. I repeated this action to detach the right arm. Owen quickly removed the hand that was still attached to his shirt, throwing the body part elsewhere. I took my knife and jammed it into the dead man's head, retracting it when the walker had silenced its growls and went limp.

  Owen proceeded to unlock the car door and pry it open, dragging the now twice-dead body out of the driver's seat, through the passenger's side, and onto the road. I climbed into the car, looking for any hidden treasures. One thought raced through my mind, however. Was this a trap from another group of survivors? Were they nearby? My thoughts came to a halt once again as I came across a large package.

  "Owen!" I exclaimed joyfully. He looked into the car once again, worry displayed on his face. I pointed down at the large pack before me, only to confuse him. I sighed and prepared to lift the plastic. I set it on the seat, unlocking and opening one of the backseat doors.

  "More water..." He muttered to himself as he lifted the package. I smiled and stood, my upper body bent forward as I followed him out of the car. He opened the rolling cooler he found earlier and used his knife to slice the plastic holding the bottled water open. He then dumped the bottles into the cooler, grinning triumphantly as he rose to meet my gaze again.

  "Still questioning the cooler?" He inquired sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, playfully punching his arm.

  "Hey, don't start. If it weren't for me you'd be dead." I told him. He laughed at this, which was a bit alarming, but I chose to ignore it. He turned around and went toward a car in the corner. I arched an eyebrow. There was a low growl coming from behind the car, and I got nervous.

  "O-Owen..." I stuttered. He placed a finger over his lips and crouched down. My heart started pounding as a walker stood from behind the car. My eyes widened out of fear.

  "Owen!" I shouted. Quickly, Owen pounced on the walker, stabbing its forehead. I breathed a sigh of relief, however, it didn't last long.

  He stood, but didn't notice the sharp, jagged edge of the bumper. He screamed out in pain and fell back to the floor. Out of instinct, I began to run to him. I fell to my knees, lifting the side of his shirt to see a nasty gash in his side. Tears began to drown my eyes, the only thing that was comforting was the look on his face. He was smiling up at me.

  "It'll be fine. We have to go back." He told me. I nodded, helping him to his feet. My eyebrows furrowed as we made our way back.

  "We don't have anything to treat it back at-"

  "I have an idea. Just get me back there." He ordered. I nodded and made the journey back to-what I considered-home.

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