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Ray reached for the nearest bottle, taking a swig from it and letting it burn the back of his throat for a few seconds before taking another, longer drink. He shouldn’t be here. He should be with the rest of his team, protecting people. Finding more survivors and helping them to the safety of the shelters.
Safety. He took another drink, the sting of the alcohol bringing tears to his eyes. That’s all it was, the alcohol. Because he had to stay strong, right? Had to keep it together. Ray snorted derisively and drank again. What use was keeping it together now?
Finally putting down the bottle, Ray choked out a laugh when he saw what he was drinking. It had been Pop’s favorite, when he’d hustled enough cash for the good stuff. Ray had never touched this brand before, but now… seemed fitting. Pop hadn’t been there for his family. And now, without ever meaning to, Ray had followed in his footsteps.
He gripped the edge of the bar to keep himself from hitting it, or the wall. Or from throwing the damn bottle across the room. He had a job to do. Families to protect. Just because Ray’s family didn’t need that anymore, didn’t mean he was off the hook.
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Kowalski’s Last Stand. That’s what they’ll call this, Ray thought with a humorless chuckle. Yeah, like there would be anyone left to remember. Ray maybe wasn’t the best-educated or most religious guy in the world, but even he could recognize End of Days stuff when he saw it. And that’s where the world was now. Armageddon, apocalypse, Judgment Day – didn’t matter what you called it, he was pretty sure this was it. Humanity was doneski, stick a fork in it and feed it to the zombies because there were a hell of a lot more of Them than human beings at this point.
Ray hunkered down behind the counter and checked his gun. About half a clip, plus one more replacement and then he was out of ammo. Maybe it was enough to make it to the station. But not just yet, he thought, looking around the store from his hiding place. This seemed to be a decent place to rest for a few, recharge. He was pretty sure he hadn’t been followed in, though with all the shuffling going on outside, it was only a matter of time before he was found if he stayed still too long. But he was so damn tired. And hungry. A quick search uncovered a stash of candy bars in the back of a cabinet, and Ray smiled as he tore into one. The taste of chocolate on his tongue made him moan before he could help himself. At least that sounded zombie-like, he thought. Probably wouldn’t get him caught out.
He wished he could risk playing one of the CDs in the store – how long had it been since he’d heard music? Longer than eating candy, that was for sure. Try as he might, he couldn’t recall the last song he’d heard. Maybe there were headphones around here somewhere. Stupid to use them, as it would make it a lot easier for an Infected to sneak up on him, but Ray was almost to the point of not caring. Maybe he should just find a stereo in the place, pick something loud and angry, and crank up the volume.
If this was Kowalski’s Last Stand, shouldn’t it have a kick ass soundtrack?