Clarkesville (Chandler Riggs)

Chapter 6

"How 'bout this one?" Chandler poked out of the men's aisle, holding up a ridiculous shirt with a guinea-pig on it. "Ew." I replied, as I continued to look through the racks.

We found the store Lacoste on lockdown, with quite a few Stiffs inside, that were easy to take down. Why would Chandler take the gun from me, when we both knew we couldn't use it in a wide open airport?

The large group that my mother was in traveled down the hall, and by the time we left the other convenience store, the last few Stiffs were turning the corner. Lacoste was not long in the other direction.

I searched through the clothing, finding great choices of comfy outfits to wear. "I'll be in the back changing." I hollered to him.

"Then I'll keep watch until you get out. I don't want to get into trouble alone." He said flatly.

"Okay then." I took a blue and green button up shirt, along with my carry-on bag full of other clothes.

It was a small store, with just a few shelves and a few aisles of bright clothes. I slid through the curtain of the back room, and immediately began changing.

I pulled off my light purple t-shirt, keeping on my bra and black tank top. My legs slipped into the softer pair of dark skinny jeans, a red flannel from the store, and I decided to leave the long-sleeve blue shirt in my bag, incase of emergency.

After examining my body for any scratches or cuts, I let out a sigh. There was a few new bruises on my arms, legs, and hips, from all the squishing inside of closets and fighting with Chandler.

After a minute or two I felt less itchy and tight. My hair was still let down, and I decided that I'd keep it that way until it got annoying.

"Almost done in there?" I heard Chandler ask with a shaky tone in his voice. "Yeah," I packed up my bag with all of the extra clothes I had taken and slung it over my shoulder, exiting the back. My ankles were forming blisters. I needed another pair of shoes as well.

Chandler stood close to the front desk, as I watched his head swivel, searching for any new guests.

"Okay you're turn." I said. He turned around, looked at me, and slightly smiled. "Alright." I expected him to keep the gun for himself, but he handed the weapon to me.

I simply took it in my hand and returned the favor. "Thanks, glad you can trust me with it." I said sarcastically.

"Yeah whatever." Chandler's hand glided across my shoulder as he passed me, and it dropped as he went behind the curtain.

The fact that he was my life back home didn't phase me. All the writings on my wall and all the wishes for autographs-I know they would never come about.

Because he was my partner now.

He was adorable and sensible, but I was still trying to figure out if he was kind enough.

Chandler had told me that he didn't want to be alone during this. I understood, because who would?

Tap tap. A small noise grabbed me out out my thoughts, as a rush of nervous adrenaline came through me.

"Chandler, you good?" I whispered to him as loud as I could.

"Yeah, why?" He shuffled around in the back room.

"Nothing, just hear-" Tap tap. The noise became louder and more frequent. Tap tap.

I couldn't tell where the noise was coming from, although I felt like it was a Stiff from outside the store. We had closed the gates, so it wasn't a huge deal.

Tap tap. "Chandler, I'm gonna go check what that noise is."

Finally he came out of the bathroom as I said this, and I felt a whole lot safer. He had on a pair of dark skinny jeans, a blue button-up shirt, and the same old sneakers. He could use some new shoes as well.

"Come on, I keep hearing a tapping noise." Tap tap. Chandlers eyes opened wider, and he held on on the pair of scissors in his belt.

He nodded and started moving to the gate. I followed him, gripping both the rubber part of the scissors and the handle of the gun.

We were right in front of the metal bars in the store, and I felt as if the noise was coming towards us, about to turn the corner to go into the store.

Tap tap. The source was right there, moaning and squirming, sticking its hands through the bars of the gate.

But it wasn't eye level with us, in fact we had to look down to see the Stiff's face.

A familiar looking little boy was looking up at us with terrifying eyes, with no irises; just a pupil and a larger cornea.

His brown hair was messy and sticky looking, along with his blue and green striped shirt. There was a large infected bite on his right arm.

Why did he look so familiar?

I wiped the tears from my eyes before they could fall, and sniffled away my sadness. I hated crying.

"You can go, I'll do it." Chandler muttered, holding my shoulder once again. I got a bit nervous when he did this.

"Can't we just, like leave him be? He's not that loud..." I began, my voice cracking. I remembered on The Walking Dead; 'I know we have to kill them, but sometimes we don't.'

"He'll make too much noise trying to get in. The other Stiffs will hear." He told me, gesturing towards the other side of the airport.

He had a point, although my heart was practically broken. The young boy was just clinging to his mother, avoiding my help just hours ago.

I took Chandler's arm in my hands, looking him in the eyes. "Quietly, please. I'll be in the shoe section." I muttered.

He nodded and let go of my shoulder, and I dropped his arm, and began to shuffle toward the shoes.

I made my way through the racks, making ad much noise as possible to ignore the sloshing noise of Chandler killing off the young boy.

This whole apocalypse thing had barely even started yet, but I could tell the entire airport was already overrun. I forced the thought of the little boy and my mother to the back of my head.

The selection of shoes was boring. It consisted of ugly white tennis sneakers and fancy flip-flops.

I desperately needed a pair of combat boots or my favorite pair of Doc Martens. Dressing for comfort.

I could hear Chandler following me to the shoes, but there was no use. "The style here is too plain. I'm surprised we found these shirts." He wiped the blood on the blades of the scissors on a yellow sweater.

I tried not to notice.

"Okay," he said, putting the scissors in his belt, "I know where we could look." Chandler and I checked to make sure we had everything, and I followed him to the front of the store.

He lifted one part of the gate as I did the other, and I decided not to take one peripheral glance at the dead boy's body.

We slowly dropped the gate together, but I still wanted to know where we were headed. "Where exactly is this place?" I asked, still aware of my surroundings.

Chandler smiled, not looking at me. "What size shoe are you?" He asked, regarding my question.

"Six women's, why?"

"Great, than a seven will do fine for ya." And then I knew it'd be a long walk to the luggage area of the airport.

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