Buzzkill (A Lesbian Story)

11: I Hate Mozart

  "Are you sure about this, Max?" Ashley asked me as Steve and I were packing supplies into duffle bags. "I mean, I know that they're  your parents and everything, but what if we can't make it? What if we get attacked?"

  "Would you rather just stay here?" I asked, throwing a duffle bag of camping supplies over my shoulder. "The power and water supply are going to leave soon. We'll run out of food and things won't end well. If we make it to the camp that my parents got evacuated to, then we'll be okay. We'll survive. We might even find your dads!"

  Ashley shuffled slightly, her arms crossed. She was scared, I could tell. I walked over to her, letting the duffle bag fall. I put my hands on her arms. "Ashley, I understand that you're scared. Hell. Im scared. This was our safe haven and now we're leaving it to go out there where the monsters are. We have each other, Ash. I promise that I will not let anything bad happen to you."

  Ashley shrugged me off. "I don't need you to protect me." She walked around me and got her own duffle bag.

  Well damn. I thought we were making progress with the whole 'bitch' thing. I mean this week has been nice, minus the whole zombie apocalypse thing happen to the world right now. It was like old times with the three of us... Now, it's more of the newer old times. You know, before the virus attacked and we were still normal high schoolers and she liked to be a complete bitch to me with her friends. The good ole days.

  It's whatever, though. Not like we're in a life or death situation or anything where teamwork would be really fucking important to help us survive. It's fine.

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  The car ride was very pluck-your-teeth-out quiet. Steve was in the driver's seat, I was in the passenger, and Ashley was in the back with Ricky. My eyes kept looking at the mirror to see Ashley with her head against the window. A look was on her face and I knew exactly what it was. Guilt. What could she feel guilty about? She didn't feel guilty about pushing me away earlier, did she?

  I hope she does.

  "What's with all of this quietness?" Steve suddenly asked. He hada giant smile on his face like we didn't just pass a group of ten zombies. "This is a road trip!"

  "Through hell." Ashley muttered.

  "Let's get some tunes, guys!" Steve pressed a buttom for the FM radio. Static. He pressed through all the channels and each of them were just varying degrees of white noise. Steve switched off the radio and sat back in his seat with a look on his face where he looked like he wanted to give up, but he also wanted to stay positive for us.

  Classic Steve.

  "Mmmkay. How bout some CDs, Max?" He suggested.

  I opened the console and took out three CDs. "Classical Pieces. Michael Bublé. SugarTown." I looked up at Steve. "Oh yeeeaah these are great road trip CDs!"

  "Pop in some classical, yo!" Steve exclaimed. "Get some Bach up in this bitch!"

  Sighing, I put the CD in and pressed play. Sweet notes on violins started seeping into the car and it wasn't exactly the worst thing. Maybe a little bit calming. I looked over to see Steve mimic playing the violin and getting very very into it, if i may add.

  "Oohh, boy! You killing it, Mozart!"

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  The sun was starting to set as we pulled into a Wal-Mart gas station. Just our luck too. Wichita was running on fumes.

  "So how are we going to get gas?" Ashley asked. "Don't we need a cashier?"

  "I got this." Steve said and walked around to the side door of the shack. "I used to work here, actually so I-"

  He was cut off by a growl from the other side of the door. The door started shaking like something was throwing itself against it. Steve stepped away and pulled his pistol out of its holster.

  "Its just one." Ashley stopped him. She bent down next to a cowering Ricky. "No need to make too much noise."

  "Ash it right." I said.

  "Fine." Steve looked disappointed in not being able to use is pistol. Instead he took a hatchet out of his backpack and I took my bat out of mine just in case. Steve put a hand on the doorknob. "Ready?"

  I nodded. He turned the doorknob and the door flew open as a zombie stumbled out. It was still wearing the Wal-Mart vest and everything. The eyes landed on me and it shuffled my way. I swung and hit it right in the jaw, causing a crack to break the air and the zombie to fall over. Steve then brought the hatchet down onto it's head, making it motionless. He wiped the bloody hatchet blade on the zombie's old clothes and snagged the keys still on it's belt.

  He swung the keys around on his finger. "Let's get some gas."

  "You're just going to leave him there?" Ashley asked, pointing to the body. "Just laying on the ground close to us. What if he comes back to life?"

  "God. You really like to worry, dont you?" I asked and walked over to the body. I grabbed his arms and dragged him over behind the other side of the shack then walked back. "There. Happy?"

  Ashley just glared at me and walked back to the car. She and Ricky got into the back and the door closed angrily. I sighed and walked over to Steve in the shack. He pressed buttons on the register, "And we've got gas."

  "Amazing." I turned around to the giant wall of cigarettes. I grabbed a few packs of Camels and lighters from the stands. As I zipped everything up in my backpack, Steve stared at me. I shouldered my bag. "What?"

  "I thought you quit." He said.

  "I did." I scratched my neck. "But the urge gets crazy when I'm stressed and an apocalypse is a stressful situation."

  Steve nodded, grabbed a few packs for himself, and sighed. "You know Ashley's going to be upset."

  "I don't care what she thinks."

Author's Note: Things are pretty tense between Ashley and Max, but I know what all of you are waiting for;). Don't worry, my loves, it is coming soon. Thanks for reading! Xoxoxo