Five

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Five

Mark and I had been surviving together in the dorm for a week when I finally decided that his adventures weren't all that bad. We decided to go out again, but not for anything specific. We wanted to get some more practice with our new weapons. What better way to practice than to apply our skills to real life?

"I don't think there's enough of the things on campus anymore. So, what other places should we clear out?" Mark asked.

"There's a park nearby. That could be fun. Other than that, we could clear out some more stores," I suggested.

I showered first in the morning, then Mark took his turn. There was a community bathroom on our floor of the dorm, so it wasn't as if we had to take turns in the bathroom. But it felt too awkward to be showering in there at the same time, even if we each took shower stalls on separate ends of the room.

While Mark was in the bathroom, I did my usual routine of blowdrying my long, light-brown hair into its normal natural waves and getting dressed. I chose some dark jeans, a dark gray v-neck, and my black and red flannel. When Mark returned to the room, he was wearing almost the same outfit - jeans and his new red and black flannel.

"You've got to be kidding me," I grumbled when we looked at each other and noticed our matching clothes.

"What? I took this to the bathroom with me. I picked out my outfit before you did!"

"Well, I didn't notice what clothes you had. There's no way I'm going somewhere in the same clothes as you," I retorted.

"Oh, come on! Nobody's around except for zombies who are going to die for the second and last time once we get near them. You don't have to be embarrassed about it," he assured me. It didn't make me feel any better about the situation, but I didn't feel like changing clothes and neither did he. I just slipped on my leather jacket and black combat boots and once we each had all of our chosen weapons on our backs and in our belts, we left the building. As we got out to the car, Mark stole the keys out of my hand.

"What the hell?" He just smiled.

"I want to drive this time."

"I know the area better than you," I reminded him.

"Great, you can tell me where to turn, then." He proceeded to get into the driver's seat, and I couldn't believe him. We managed to get our hands on MY dream car and suddenly he decides it's his? I mean, it wasn't as if either of us actually paid for and owned it, but still. I knew I had to just climb into the passenger seat and let him drive, though. He was as stubborn as I was sometimes.

"You better be careful with Jeff," I warned him as I put on my seatbelt.

"You're naming the car Jeff? Aren't cars supposed to have girl names?"

"Screw gender roles, I think this Jeep looks like a Jeff, plus who doesn't like alliteration? Jeff the Jeep. It's best not to argue with me about it." He just shook his head at me as he turned the key and the engine came to life. I felt nervous letting him drive, kind of like a parent in the car with their 16-year-old new driver. We survived, though, and there weren't any scratches on Jeff by the time we arrived at the park I navigated us to.

The park was absolutely full of zombies. The sad thing was that a lot of them were kids. Creepy, gross, undead little kids. And even though they were coming at us so they could infect or kill us, I still couldn't bring myself to kill them. For some reason, the parents and other adults were no problem. I shot them and threw knives at them with ease. But with only children left, I was struggling.

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