THE ENTRY (Book one of two)

Chapter 7: Maggie.

It was pouring outside. My hands were as clammy as ever, and I was freezing. I was left alone with nobody to come and help me. I had a small scratch on my cheek from a branch, but that was it.

I had been abandoned weeks ago.

Marissa and Alyssa had left without me and I was still in the dugout.

I wasn't sure where they had ran off to, but all I know is that I was starving and dehydrated.

I was going to set out alone and try to look for civilization. I knew there was a grocery store somewhere nearby, so I would try there first.

Moving quickly and silently, I made my way to the grocery store. Sprinting across the open street, the heat pounded down on me. The place was a complete wasteland. I dashed to the closest H-E-B in sight, making my way to the doors, the sensors to the doors were still working, so I snuck in. The doors creaked in grief as I stepped into the completely ransacked store.

Shit.

Was there anything left?

Before I could make any more choices about the store, a repulsive smell lurked into my nasal cavity. I had to breathe through my mouth in hopes I wouldn't vomit. My stomach churned at the sent peeking around the left corner of the wall. I was scared to death, hoping it wasn't more of those dead things.

I leaned over carefully, grabbing a shard of plexiglass from one of the doors behind me. The smell loomed around me precariously, threatening to strangle me to death if I continued to breathe it's same air. I choked, turning the corner. I screamed, holding the glass in front of me like a sword.

There was nothing there, just an old rotting turkey from thanksgiving. I leaned over, picking up the tag. 'Half off!' It read. I wanted to regurgitate all the food that I hadn't been eating badly at this point. I gagged, moving on. Obviously, all of the frozen foods were out of the question.

As I ventured into the pasta aisle, there was a loud crash behind me. There were voices and crunching of glass, signifying that someone had just broken in. I crawled in between one of the lower stocking shelves quickly, curling into a ball, clutching the glass shard and holding my breath.

Don't make a sound, if they find you, you're probably dead.

The voices faded, and I figured it was okay to come out. As I was uncurling from my ball to get up, there was some feet shuffling. I lurched back into my previous position, cramming my body into the space as tightly as I could.

The legs and feet looked as if they belonged to an old man, wrinkled flesh, very pale, and dry skin. The figure was wearing slippers and what seemed to be a bathrobe, which was peculiar. They took slow, elongated strides, their feet not leaving the ground. They continued to drag them onwards, not making a single sound except for a low popping noise. Probably from his old joints, which I thought made it okay. I figured he could help me and he was probably lost or something, so I made a choice in which to get up and attempt to help the man.

Once I crawled out to get a good look at the man, his clothes were tattered. He was, in fact, old. His hair was wispy and greasy, and white. "Excuse me, sir?" I called out softly. "Are you lost? I can try and help y-" I was cut off by the man turning around to face me. His face was splattered with blood, his eyes a yellowed sickly color. He wheezed, looking at me slowly as if studying me. His hands were crooked against his body, pressing to his chest like a T-rex.

My jaw dropped once I saw his jaw. It was hanging low, his teeth brown and rotting. I let out a low gasp, realizing what I had just done. He let out an angry moan, reaching out at me. I backed away, my eyes locking onto his abdomen.