home

search

Chapter 8: Manuelas Heart

  The roll-up gate of the convenience store was designed to keep thieves out, not zombies. Made of thin metal, it was sturdy enough for its purpose, but under the relentless pounding of the undead, it had already begun to buckle. If the assault continued, it wouldn’t hold for long.

  Fortunately, zombies weren’t exactly geniuses. Their memory was short-lived. After two minutes of mindless pounding, they stopped, as if they’d forgotten why they were even there. The humans who had slipped inside moments ago were no longer on their radar.

  Vincent let out a quiet sigh of relief. He’d been crouched in the same position for two minutes, his legs tingling with numbness. His eyes, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the cracks around the gate, could now make out the layout of the store.

  The convenience store was small, no more than 50 square meters, with no back exit. Three rows of shelves filled the space, stocked with everything from snacks to cheap kitchenware. The walls were lined with goods—children’s toys, household items, and more. Near the gate, a cash register stood under a Coca-Cola poster. The store was untouched, pristine even, as if the world outside hadn’t fallen apart.

  Vincent gently tugged on Manuela’s arm, signaling her to move. He stood, stretching his stiff legs, and whispered, “Follow me.”

  They moved to the back of the store, where Vincent felt safe enough to speak in a low voice. “There are cheap duffel bags on that shelf. Double them up for strength. Grab food—anything with a long shelf life. Take whatever you want, but be quiet. And careful—it’s dark in here.”

  Manuela nodded, her eyes glinting faintly in the dim light. She watched as Vincent turned to leave, then hesitated before grabbing his arm.

  “What now?” Vincent asked, glancing back.

  “Thank you,” Manuela whispered, her voice barely audible. It was a thank you for saving her earlier.

  Vincent gave her a strange smile—part frustration, part resignation. In the darkness, Manuela couldn’t see it. She held onto his arm again as he tried to leave.

  “What is it this time?” Vincent asked, his patience wearing thin.

  “I… I just…” Manuela hesitated, then took a deep breath. “When you ran out earlier… were you planning to leave me behind? I could’ve been a distraction for the zombies, giving you a better chance to escape. But then… you came back.” She smiled faintly.

  “This isn’t funny,” Vincent cut her off.

  “I didn’t mean—” Manuela started to explain, but Vincent interrupted again.

  “Listen,” he said, his voice low and sharp. “I never planned to take you with me. I said you could follow me. That’s it. I saved you because I’m still human. I couldn’t just watch you die. That’s all. I’m not a saint, but I’m not the monster you think I am either.” He turned and walked away, leaving Manuela standing in the dark.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Manuela stared at his retreating figure, then crouched down, hugging her knees. She felt a mix of emotions—confusion, frustration, and a strange sense of rejection. She’d always believed in her allure, her ability to captivate any man. But Vincent? He was different. He didn’t seem to care about her charms, and it left her feeling… exposed.

  After a moment, she stood and grabbed two duffel bags from the shelf, doubling them up as Vincent had suggested. She moved through the aisles, stuffing the bags with packaged food without even looking at what she was grabbing. She added gum, cigarettes, and chocolate from the counter, then checked behind the register for a gun. Most convenience stores in the U.S. had one, but she found nothing. Disappointed, she opened the cash drawer.

  *Ding!*

  The sound of the drawer opening echoed through the store. Manuela froze, as did Vincent on the other side of the room. A minute passed in tense silence. When no zombies came pounding at the gate, they both resumed their tasks.

  Manuela looked at the small bills and coins in the drawer—maybe a hundred dollars in total. Money. Something she’d once sold herself for. Now, in this new world, it was worthless. She closed the drawer without taking a single bill.

  When she was done, she slung the duffel bag over her shoulder and joined Vincent.

  “What’s that?” she asked, her tone flat, almost annoyed.

  Vincent held up a makeshift spear. “A weapon.”

  Using a hollow stainless-steel mop handle and a kitchen knife, Vincent had fashioned two crude spears. They looked ridiculous, but they were effective—long enough to keep zombies at bay.

  “This is yours,” Vincent said, handing one to Manuela.

  “What’s the plan?” she asked, testing the weight of the spear.

  “We’re leaving,” Vincent said, shouldering the duffel bag. “I noticed earlier that most of the zombies were drawn to the other street. We’ll head north to the intersection, turn left onto Vigo Street, and find a car at the parking lot there. Then we’re getting out of here.”

  “That’s almost a kilometer away,” Manuela said, frowning. “With these?” She shook the spear. “We could stay here. There’s enough food to last us a while.”

  “Vigo Street doesn’t have residential areas. The car that passed earlier came from there, and it didn’t bring many zombies. That means the street’s clear. I’m not staying here. You can if you want, but I’m leaving.” Vincent’s tone left no room for argument.

  Manuela glared at his back, tempted to jab him with the spear. *You can stay here?* What kind of choice was that? She wasn’t about to wait around to die.

  Vincent crouched by the gate, peering through the narrow gap. Four or five zombies loitered outside. He took a deep breath, set his spear down, and gripped the gate’s handle. With a sharp yank, he pulled it open.

  The metal screeched as it rolled up, flooding the store with sunlight. Vincent grabbed his spear and darted outside, firing his gun to take down the nearest zombies. He sprinted north, leaving Manuela to make her choice.

  She hesitated for only a moment before following him. Staying behind meant certain death. At least with Vincent, she had a chance.

  The street was a nightmare. The stench of decay filled the air, and the growls of the undead echoed around them. Zombies closed in from all sides, their bloodshot eyes fixed on the two humans. Vincent’s gun ran out of ammo quickly, and he resorted to his spear, slashing and stabbing with brutal efficiency. Manuela stayed close, using her spear to fend off any zombies that got too close.

  They were making progress, the intersection was just 300 meters ahead. But then, from the other end of Oak Street, the Ford E450 came roaring back—and behind it, a horde of at least 200 zombies.

  “Oh, damn it!” Vincent shouted, his voice filled with dread.

  The car skidded around the corner, heading straight for them, with the massive swarm of undead in hot pursuit.

Recommended Popular Novels