The air in the gas station was scorching and moist; it reeked of death, due to the two walkers trapped inside, tied by their ankles to the counter, close to the windows, so nobody would enter when they saw them.
They had been trapped by a girl, who was now sitting on the floor, dripping wet in sweat, playing with a revolver. She was skinny, her skin dry and gaunt, her blond hair frizzy, her eyes sad and aimless. She had been playing with the gun for days now; she was sure she was turning crazy, but couldn’t or didn’t want to do anything about it.
Lux was utterly tired of living, but for the first time she didn’t have the determination of killing herself. She was sure that loneliness, famine and inactivity would eventually end her without an effort. She didn’t know how long had she been on her own, but it had been definitely over a month. Maybe two. Her wounds were sure healing, both the outer and the inner, and she had grown up to be a survivor, with all the immoral acts it carried out.
There were people talking outside, but no distinct conversation. They were muttering and that only meant they wanted to break in.
“They want to break into my place. My place, my only shelter, where I’ve survived since I ran away from those monsters” she thought, stiff and curled up in a comforting position.
She wouldn’t let them.
Lux stood up and pulled out her knife, the one on her right leg. Her jeans had a double fabric to hide a couple of blades, long, thin and sharp, so no one could see them until it was too late. She was able to use them better than a tooth brush, and had used them a lot lately.
The door opened; she had not repaired the lock since a kid broke in the previous week. It was part of her master plan to die somehow.
She saw a woman from her sneaking point, behind a shelf stuffed with car supplies. Her skin was dark, umber indeed, and she was as tall as her, thin. She wore thick dreads. Her gaze was fierce, ruthless. It was weird for Lux because she had not seen a strong, healthy woman since everything began, or ended. She pulled out a long blade, maybe a katana, and severed the walker’s heads in two gracious moves.
She waited in the dark, and started moving in the opposite direction, around the shelf, to catch her by surprise. Both women wandered slowly and quiet until Lux was behind her, without noticing another stranger slipping inside the thick aired room.
Rebeca Medina escribe 