Barren

I duck behind the canned food aisle as I hear rustling to my right. Breathing in hard, I slow my racing heart. When I can hear more than my own breathing, I realize that it was more like a shuffle. Like the person wouldn't pick up their feet high enough- couldn't pick up their feet high enough.

Turning back into the aisle, I look for another way to go. Damn! Dead end. I just had to pick this waste of a town. I was lucky to find water, as I'd come across barely any supplies and even fewer cars. The four door van I jacked was already running out of gas. My backpack was devastatingly empty, and with the way my stomach was rumbling, I wouldn't last another day.

But I have to. I have too many responsibilities.

As the shuffling grows closer, I scoff to myself. Responsibilities. Even during the end of the fucking world, I have responsibilities.

I drop the bag off of my right shoulder and begin sliding canned goods in it. I wouldn't be able to carry much, so I take what I want and decide to stop later when leaving this shithole. That way, I could pack everything in-

A rough grunt stops me mid thought.

I scowl in annoyance. "I'll be out in a minute, dude. Don't get your thong in a twist." I flick a stray curl out of my eyes and continue picking through the cans. I separate the cans into two piles; Want and Don't Want. The want pile is for later, when I pack everything in the car.

A low shriek comes from behind me, and I realize he/she is much closer than I thought.

"Back off lady- sir, I meant sir!" I turn and exclaim as the man lunges for me. It's less of a lunge and more of him throwing his body in my direction, snarling and grunting in exertion. His gross breath and overall decaying body causes my eyes to water.

"Good God almighty! My dude, Colgate on aisle two." I shove him away from me. He's momentarily unbalanced, teetering on his two left feet. I take the time to assess his state of decay. His hair falls away in clumps, flat and lifeless. His face is gray, sunken in and rotting around his cheek bones. His right arm was definitely dislocated, hanging uselessly from its socket. His left arm was completely gone, making his sleeve hang in an awkward way that almost made me laugh. I can tell he hasn't eaten in about a week.

"Who are you gonna bite with a body like that?" I ask him, grabbing his right shoulder. He responded in a growl, opening his jaw so wide I'm tempted to shove my fist in.

But that's a big no no.

I grab a can of refried beans and push it in his mouth. His jaw widens, his skin stretching until it finally snaps. His jaw hangs around the can, his skin split and shredded like cheese. A thick black substance bubbles out of the gashes. Gross.

"Suck on that while I get this stuff, will you?" I finish grabbing the cans, Mr. Hank (as his name tag tells me) breathing on my neck and rustling my hair. He tries to charge me, only to slip on the cans of cranberry sauce from the Don't Want pile. They somehow ended up on the floor.

"Goodbye Hank, you big 'old stud!" I wave. I use my backpack full of cans to push Hank over. His back lands on the cans of cranberry sauce, his head coming into contact with the floor harshly. Wincing, I leave him with an apology and make my way to the doors of the grocery store. I push my knife through the slit between the doors. Sliding it down, I yank it to the side and push the latch bolt back. I push my fingers through the slit and slide the door back, leaving enough space for my body to slip through before the door closes again. I miss automatic doors.

I keep a lookout for anyone shuffling around, but like before, there aren't any zombies out.

Zombies. Just the word made my skin crawl.

But, it's what they are. Undead, living corpses, zombies. The virus sprung up on us like the Black Plague, knocking millions of lives out of existence within weeks. And the numbers kept rising. I'll admit, at first I was a little jealous of the people who died before they got to see the world as it is today. Until they came back, that is. Then all hell broke loose.

I quit reminiscing about the past as I come across the building that was camp for the day. In the morning, I'd be back on the road until I found the safe house.

It took about twenty four minutes to walk back from the only grocery store seven blocks down the street. I would have taken the car, which is safer against zombies, but it was a huge waste of gas. Besides, I'd rather it be here for a safe getaway.

I cut the zip ties from off the door handles, pausing when I hear shuffling inside. I pull the knife from my backpack, holding it in my hand. If a zombie is in there, that's it. It'll be the end for me, I won't- can't go anymore.

A sigh escapes my lips as I hear a faint "Noni!" I pull the ties from the door and throw it open. Big blue eyes gaze up at me through curly locks of brown hair. Little blonde whipies fly around, untamed. "Noni!" She called, chubby arms raised.

I blow my hair out of my face, frustrated. "I'm not your Noni, kid."

"Noni!" She shakes her head, opening and closing her fist. I pluck her up, placing her on my hip.

"Where's Spencer?" I ask the baby, shutting the door tight. I tie new zip ties to the door handles on the inside. No one else was coming for us.

"Penny, Penny, Noni!" She points up the stairs.

"Stop calling me Penny." Spencer says through his teeth, standing at the top of the stairs. His grip on the rail was tight, but I ignore it.

"What is your problem?!" I raise my voice slightly.

"What the hell do you mean?" He says.

"Why is Ronnie downstairs?! And watch your damn language!" I walk up the stairs, ignoring the chubby fingers in my hair. Ronnie tugs harder on my hair.

"Noni." Ronnie says, her warm breath brushing my skin as she slobs on my cheek. It's her way of kissing, I assume. "Noni, Noni, Noni!"

"Stop calling me Noni!" I say, brushing her finger away from my eye before she can poke it.

"She probably walked down, what's the big deal?" Spencer rolls his eyes, turning away from me. He's already eleven and yet he acts Ronnie's age.

"The big deal is that Ronnie couldn't have gotten down the stairs on her own! That means you forgot her down here, you little punk." I push past the clutter in the hallway of the abandoned house we borrowed for the night. Pushing open the door to Spencer's room, I stand there with a look on my face and a hand on my hip.

"So?" Spencer sits on the bed with his back to me, hunched over. I set Ronnie down on the carpet. As soon as her little feet hit the floor, she breaks off into a waddle, heading God knows where. I walk around the bed and stand in front of Spencer. I wait until he looks at me in annoyance.

"So, I can't be worried about you and Ronnie while I'm out Spencer. I need to know you're watching her right. What if a zombie broke in?"

"Then I'd protect her!" He stands, sizing me up.

"From upstairs? How? With the fucking Force?! Newsflash Luke, she'd be dead before you could." I turn around and begin to leave the room. It takes everything in me to not stomp away, but that's a Spencer thing.

"I'm sorry, Alanah. I'll be more careful." I stop when I hear his voice, soft under the shrieks of baby Ronnie. I sigh and turn around. I walk back to the bed, where his back is still turned, and wrap my arms around him from behind.

"I know. I just don't want anything to happen to you guys. That's why I leave the car. Quick getaway, you know?" I brush his wild, brown curls away from his eyes. Leaning over him, I kiss his forehead.

"I know," He says, pushing my face away. Whatever, punk. More kisses for Ronnie.

"Hungry?" I ask, rolling off the bed. The small room Spencer picked for himself had obviously been a boys room. The bed was small, with dusty blue sheets and flat, old pillows. The carpet was cleaner, oddly, and the closet bare save for a couple odds and ends of clothing. A small sock here, clean underwear there, and about two shirts that were a little big on Spencer.

Which is great, because that kid had a lot of growing to do.

Ronnie and I chose a bigger room down the hall. Close enough to hear Spencer, but far enough to give him peace from his weird older sister and annoying little sister. His words, not mine.

"Yeah, Ronnie had the last can of fruit." He replied.

"You were supposed to save that until I got back, Spence. The stores could have been empty."

"Ronnie was crying 'nommies'! What else was I supposed to do? Did you find anything?" He asked, plopping back on the bed.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I'll get dinner going, if you keep an eye on Ronnie for me?" I begin walking away again. I hear small feet slapping the floor and lean down, scooping the little demon up without a thought.

"Yeah!" Spencer calls after me, his nose stuck in a book already. I roll my eyes.

"Ronnie, you're getting heavy baby. What're you eating?" I ask the squirming child, bouncing down the stairs so I hear her soft giggles.

Around a mouthful of laughter, she says, "Nommies, Noni!"

"Nommies?!" I exclaim as if it's the craziest thing I've heard since the zombie apocalypse. She laughs hard, her fingers bunched up in my hair. I peel her hands out, remembering how hard it is to detangle it later.

I enter the living room, Ronnie on my hip. I set her down, pointing my finger in her face before she can waddle away. "Stay, put." Ronnie nods, wild curls bouncing around her head. Her tan skin, a shade lighter than my own, looked pale in the dim room. I wish I could take her out in the sun more.

I turn around and pause, listening for her soft patters that let me know she was trying to sneak away. When all I got was silence, I grab the matches out of my back pocket. Sliding the little box open, I count the amount of matches left. Seven. And the store didn't have any matches either.

I sigh and strike a match against the box. A little flicker of a flame burst out, enticing an awed gasp from the baby behind me. I flick the match onto the kindling in the fireplace. It lit up after some coaxing from me. I grab the pot from beside me and took it to the kitchen. Ronnie waddles after me, watching as I fill the pot with water. We managed to find two good pots in the last house we stayed in.

I take the second pot and a can opener and put them next to the fire. I place the pot to the left and walked over to my bag. I pull out a double pack of spaghetti noodles and a can of mushroom tomato sauce. We've carted this can around two whole cities in hope of a bag or box of pasta, or maybe some flour to make our own. Spencer's going to freak.

Spaghetti was his favorite before.

Putting the pot of water in the fireplace to the right, I listen to Ronnie's mumbling as I cook the pasta. The water was almost too cold to boil, so I dumped some water out and cooked the pasta in rotations. I loot around in the cabinets for bowls and forks. I manage to find three bowls, two forks and a spoon. I think about who would have to use the spoon to eat pasta while I cook. I sigh when I realize that as the big sister, I have to take one for the team.

I season the sauce with some salt and Mrs. Dash I find in the cabinets. Not how Mom used to make, but it would have to do. I dish out the food, proportioning it so that we can have more tomorrow. "Ronnie, go get Spencer." I say to the baby watching the food with hungry eyes.

She stands on her chubby legs and waddles to the staircase. She starts to climb the stairs on her hands and knees. I let her go by herself, knowing she can go up the stairs. Coming down is a whole different story.

"Penny! Penny!" She calls, making her way up like a turtle.

"Stop calling me Penny." Spencer says, popping out of his room.

"Dinner!" I call. Spencer comes down the stairs fast, stopping to scoop up the baby as she raises her arms to be picked up. When he sees the spaghetti in the bowls, he almost drops Ronnie. I stand and grab her, sitting her on the floor.

"You found pasta?" He asks, sitting next to Ronnie.

"Yeah, though I was about to say to hell with it and have us eat the sauce alone." Spencer cracks a smile and starts eating.

—————

After dinner, I send Spencer down the hall with a large bucket full of warm water. He takes a bath in the tub with the bucket. After he finishes, I slowly refill the bucket with water heated on the stove. I know it's a waste to use so much water, but the grocery store was stocked full of it. Jugs and jugs and jugs. I would fill the car up with as much as we could take tomorrow morning.

After searching the kitchen and the living room and Spencer's room and the bathroom and my room and even in the closet for the baby, I finally spot her behind the couch in the back room. I grab her little ankles and drag her out, smiling at her little giggles.

"Noni!"

"Bath time, little spaghetti monster. Look at you. You're covered in more pasta than you ate!" I hold her under the armpits, away from my body. When I reach the bathroom, I peel her clothes off. A small, pink onesie with denim shorts over it. I peel her diaper off too, careful not to touch any pee. I toss it into the trash, glad that we found that daycare a week ago. We stocked the car up on so many diapers and wipes that I might have to leave some to fit the water. Or potty train Ronnie.

"Noni?" Ronnie asks, tilting her head. I pull her curls up into a loose bun thing. I'll have to brush it later.

"My name isn't Noni, Ronnie."

"Stinky Noni." She scrunches up her little nose.

"Me?!" I pull my arms up and sniff my pit. I could use a bath, definitely, but that's why I'm in here.

Ronnie giggles at me. I roll my eyes at her and dump her in the tub. I strip off my clothes and quickly get in behind her, before she can get her dirty little fingers in the water.

I grab the dish soap we found and pour a little on the strip of my old shirt I cut up. I wash Ronnie vigorously, hands first. As soon as they're soapy enough, she shoves them into my hair, tangling my curls. I give her a deadpan look and push my hair up into a bun thing. Brat.

"Brat," I tell her. She sticks her little tongue out. I flick it, getting soap on her tongue. She splutters, shaking her head and spitting. I burst out laughing, throwing my head back. When I recover, I take in the sight of Ronnie standing up, her hands on her hips.

I laugh again, softly. "You look like Mommy, Ronnie."

She cocks her head. "Mommy? Where?"

I stop laughing. "Mommy's gone, baby. Just me. Me and Spencer."

"Penny!" She beams. She waddles closer to me and I reach out to hold her, but she throws her leg over the edge instead. "Bye bye Noni. I go see Penny."

"No can do. Sorry, but you're naked." I stand and let her try to get out as I dry off. I grab the towel we all share and wipe myself down. I pull on a new shirt and new underwear, putting the same pants on as yesterday. I turn to see Ronnie balanced on the edge, naked as the day she was born, which was actually seventeen months ago. I grab her, wrapping her up in the towel as she grunts at me in anger.

"Down Noni! Down Noni!" She cries, turning in my arms.

"Chill out. You can have your Penny after you have a diaper on." She calms a bit at Spencer's name, and I slap a diaper on her butt and clip her last clean onesie in place. That's all she allows me to do, before she begins trying to bite me anywhere she can reach.

"Go, you little demon. Don't run in those socks."

She ignores me, taking off in a waddle.

"Ronnie! Stop running!"

"Bleh!" She calls back at me, starting up the stairs on her knees.

"Bleh!" I called back louder, dumping the water down the drain.

I put the bucket by the front door, so we can grab it in the morning. I put the clean pots in the bucket, along with all the supplies we left out over the day. I packed our clothes in the bucket too. I wouldn't risk going out at night to put the bucket in the car, though it'd make tomorrow morning go by quicker.

I heave a sigh and make my way up the stairs. I take a left at the top, entering my room for the night. I drop onto the bed face first, contemplating falling asleep right here.

I'm exhausted.

Everything's so quiet and peaceful. I feel myself dozing off until a tap on my leg makes me jump.

"Noni."

I sigh and roll over. I scoot back on the bed and look down at the baby gazing back at me. "Tired?"

She nods her head, rubbing her eyes with her little fists. I grab her arms, hauling her up on the bed that's a little too high for her to get on by herself. Her hair fell out of the holder, no surprise, and I tug a new one off my wrist. Hopefully, Spencer noticed and the lost holder is on his wrist. I wrap her thick hair up.

Pulling the blankets back, I tuck Ronnie into bed. I slide in beside her, laying on my back. Ronnie scoots up, throwing her leg on my stomach and tucking her head into my neck. I wrap my arm around her.

"Noni."

"No," I groan. "Go to sleep." I feel her pout her lip.

"Noni." She urges, fisting her hand in my hair without pulling. I leave it, because I know that's the only way she can sleep.

"What?" I feel my eyes close against my will.

"G'nigh," She says, kissing my cheek.

"Goodnight."

I fall into a dreamless sleep.