CHAPTER V
As I stood frozen in terror, a grotesque zombie suddenly grasped Mon's leg, its grip like a vice. The look of sheer horror in her eyes pierced my heart, and for a moment, I felt like I was crumbling beneath the weight of her fear. Mon, who had always been a pillar of strength, now seemed fragile and vulnerable. She clutched my shoulders with both hands, her touch sending shivers down my spine. I could feel her desperation, her trust in me, and it ignited a fierce determination within me.
The zombie's intent was clear - it was going to rip Mon apart. Without hesitation, I started kicking the zombie with all my might, trying to pry its grip off Mon's leg. I didn't want to fire my gun, fearing the noise would attract more zombies like moths to a flame. But when Mon, misunderstanding my intentions, let go of my shoulders and took a step towards the zombie, I knew I had to act fast. I read the panic in her eyes, the fear that I wouldn't save her.
In that split second, I raised my gun and shot the zombie, the sound echoing through the desolate landscape. I pushed Mon towards me, holding her close as more zombies began to emerge from the shadows. My mind went into overdrive, calculating the distance, the number of zombies, and our chances of survival. With a calm that surprised even me, I started taking down the zombies one by one, my movements precise and calculated.
Mon's grip on me was tight, her eyes fixed on mine with a mix of fear and trust. But every time she touched me, I couldn't help but remember the way she had betrayed me, the pain and the lies. It was a bitter reminder of the complexities of our relationship, the trust that had been broken and the bond that had been frayed.
Somehow, I managed to get Mon into the van, where my parents were waiting, their faces etched with worry and fear. I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself as I turned to face the growing horde of zombies. The van was soon surrounded, the zombies clawing at the doors and windows like ravenous beasts. I knew I had to get us out of there, fast.
With a sense of resignation, I climbed into the driver's seat, the weight of our survival resting squarely on my shoulders. As I started the van, the engine roared to life, a welcome sound amidst the chaos. But just as I was about to put the van in gear, I glanced at Mon, her eyes fixed on mine with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. For a moment, our gazes locked, and I felt a pang of emotion, a complex mix of anger, sadness, and concern.
With a jolt, the van lurched forward, and we sped away from the zombies, leaving the horror behind. But as we drove, the silence between us was palpable, a reminder of the unspoken words, the unresolved conflicts, and the uncertain future that lay ahead. I knew that we couldn't keep running forever, that eventually, we'd have to face the truth and confront the demons that haunted us. But for now, survival was enough.
As I pushed our van to its limits, we were covering an impressive 500 miles each day. But despite the progress, our food supplies were dwindling rapidly, and I knew I had to find a way to scrounge up some meals for my parents and me. The weight of responsibility was crushing me, and I could sense the fear emanating from my parents. They were worried about our safety, and I could feel their eyes on me, pleading for reassurance.
Their silence was deafening, but I knew they wanted me to stay with them in California, to abandon my mission and prioritize our safety. But I couldn't do that. I had to see this through, no matter the cost. If I gave up now, who would guarantee my parents' safe passage back to India? The thought of failure was suffocating me, and I felt like I was running out of options.
My life had lost all meaning, and I felt like I was just going through the motions. I had no one to turn to, no one to share my thoughts and feelings with. The loneliness was overwhelming, and I felt like I was drowning in my own despair. And then, to make matters worse, Mon had betrayed me, mocking my emotions and my love. The pain still lingered, a raw wound that refused to heal.
The days blended together in a blur of exhaustion and anxiety. I was running on fumes, both physically and emotionally. But I refused to give up. I had to keep going, no matter what. For my parents, for myself, I had to see this through. The thought of failure was unbearable, and I knew I had to push on, even if it killed me.
As the miles flew by, I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead. Would we make it to our destination? Would we be safe? The uncertainty was suffocating, but I knew I had to keep going. For my parents, for myself, I had to keep fighting. The road ahead was treacherous, but I was determined to face it head-on, no matter what.
Our journey was still ongoing, and our food supplies had dwindled to almost nothing. I knew I had to find a way to scrounge up some food, and fast. Remi's health was also taking a turn for the worse, and we had to make sure she was comfortable. We had seated her in the back of the van, in a somewhat enclosed area that was disconnected from the rest of the seats.
As we drove, a Walmart store came into view, and I pulled over, my mind racing with thoughts of finding food and supplies. I loaded my guns, six shotguns in total, and gripped them tightly in my hands. My mother, sensing my tension, pleaded with me not to go, "Sam, please don't go. We can make do with what we have left. It's only a few more days."
I understood her concerns, but I knew we needed food to survive. I looked at her with determination in my eyes and said, "Mom, I don't know how many more days it'll take us to reach our destination. We need food to live, and water is even more crucial. I have to do this."
As I opened the van door, Mon placed a hand on my arm and whispered, "Sam, I'm sorry." I didn't respond, my focus solely on the task at hand. I turned to my mother and said, "Mom, please take care of Remi."
My mother understood the weight of my words, knowing that Mon was the girlfriend who had led me to come to America. I didn't say another word, stepped out of the van, locked the door, and began walking towards the supermarket. Fear was gnawing at me from the inside, the thought of losing someone I cared about on this journey was unbearable.
I took a deep breath, gripped my guns tightly, and entered the market with caution. The aisles were dark and empty, but I knew I had to be careful. I moved swiftly, scanning the shelves for any signs of food or supplies. The silence was oppressive, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was being watched.
As I walked, my heart pounded in my chest, and my senses were on high alert. I knew I had to be prepared for anything, and the thought of failure was not an option. I had to get back to my family, to Remi and my mother, with the supplies we needed to survive. The stakes were high, and I was determined to succeed.
The market seemed like a ghost town, but I knew better than to let my guard down. I filled my bags with food, water, and medical supplies, my mind racing with thoughts of getting back to the van and continuing our journey. The weight of responsibility was crushing me, but I knew I had to push on.
As I made my way back to the van, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. I had done it. I had found the supplies we needed to survive. But the journey was far from over, and I knew that the road ahead would be fraught with even more challenges. I steeled myself for what was to come, knowing that I had to stay strong for my family.
Our journey was going smoothly, and I was starting to feel a sense of relief when suddenly, I sensed that something was wrong with Remi. My father noticed that she hadn't responded in a while and checked her pulse, but there was no blood flow. I pulled over to a safe spot, and we both rushed to check on her. As I approached Remi, I realized that she had stopped breathing.
But just as I was about to react, Remi suddenly sprang to life, her eyes vacant and her movements jerky. She lunged at Mon, who was sitting in the seat in front of her. I quickly grabbed Remi and threw her out of the van, trying to protect Mon. As Remi hit the ground, she became even more aggressive, her hands clawing at the earth and her mouth open wide. She started to crawl towards me, her eyes fixed on me with a hunger that chilled me to the bone.
I was frozen in horror, unable to move or react. Remi was like a little sister to me, and the thought of harming her was unbearable. But she was no longer Remi - she was a zombie, driven solely by a hunger for human flesh. I knew I had to protect myself and Mon, but my heart was heavy with grief and guilt.
Just as Remi was about to attack me, Mon took aim and shot her, ending her suffering. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the silence, and I felt a wave of emotions wash over me. I was torn between relief and grief, knowing that I had lost a loved one to this monstrous disease. Mon's actions had saved me, but at what cost?
As I stood there, trying to process what had just happened, Mon's voice broke the silence. "Sam, I'm sorry," she said, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. I didn't respond, my mind reeling with the weight of what had just occurred. Remi was gone, and I was left to grapple with the reality of our new world. The journey ahead would be even more challenging, and I knew that I had to stay strong for those who were still with me.
To be continue....