Twin Oaks 4.2

Claire thinks that grocery shopping is more dangerous than John gives it credit for. ‘If another group is going to guard anything, it will be their food,’ she once told the group. John said it will be the guns because this is a gun-crazy country, which prompted her to use the line about surviving longer without guns than without food that I had just repeated to her.
She’s pretty bright.
Claire once mentioned being in college, but she said this right after mentioning she had seen almost every zombie movie in existence and that caught my curiosity more. She even wrote an essay on the possibility of real-life zombie diseases and the destructive outcome it could have. She had cited something about zombie-ants and mushrooms.
I think that’s when I fell in love with her.
I told her she was a nerd, she punched me in the shoulder.
Oh, whoops! It would seem that while I was busy thinking about Claire, I have accidentally wandered down the candy aisle.
Ah, well… since I’m here!
I make the best of this mistake and start scooping things off the shelves and pushing them into the cart. Cream filled chocolates, crispy bars, caramel things, chocolate covered everything; just grab the boxes, toss them in. Anything that looks sweet goes in the cart.
Don’t forget the white chocolate, Claire loves white chocolate!
I swing around into the snack aisle next door and grab potato chips, nuts, popcorns, and anything else I like.
With my first cart full, I return to the front and ditch it. I grab another cart and head back for a second tour. I decide to be a bit healthier and hit up the soup aisle. I start with anything that has a pop-top and try to keep away from the chili. Chili is delicious, but not desirable when you’re sharing an RV with a group of people. We learned this one of the first nights in the van, before we met Chase.
Shit, that RV was such a great idea. I don’t know why we didn’t think to get one earlier! I consider how much more comfortable some of those nights would have been with actual beds as I turn a corner of an aisle and freeze n my tracks. My eyebrows raise, my eyes widen, and my heart skips a beat.
“Holy shit,” I mutter quietly. Where is Claire?!
I take a step back and glance down the aisle I just came from. I don’t see her, but I can just make out the sound of a rickety shopping cart on the other end of the store. I grin and move past the soda to the magazine rack. I don’t want any daily living, celebrity gossip crap… I reach for the good stuff on the top shelf.
The ones behind the censor boards.
“Sweeeeet,” I say to myself. Dad had confiscated my collection, that I very cleverly hid under my mattress, about four months ago and I’ve been flying solo since. I check for Claire again, before slipping a few of them into the waistband of my shorts and flipping my shirt over them. I back up a few paces and grab a case of soda off the shelf. I’m just lowering it into the basket when Claire ducks around the corner. Her gun is drawn at her side and she is crouched low – stealthy like. I recognize the meaning and I duck down behind my cart.
Oh shit, they’re in the store. I didn’t consider that there may have been a few in the back of the store. Maybe they didn’t hear us initially… maybe they followed us in?
“Where are they?” I ask, quietly, as I pull the snap on my holster.
“Shh,” she shushes me, putting a finger to her lips. “There’s someone here.”
Someone? I mouth the word at her as I furrow my brows. There’s a person in here?

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