Murphy was a man in his late sixties. He was balding and not in the best shape but he knew how to blow heads off. Murphy may have not been fast or strong but he had the best aim around. I mean, the last recruit blew off his own foot so there’s not much to work with out there. There’s not much at all. Harper was a dyke. She was tall, slender and she had muscle behind her. Her speciality was knives. You shouldn’t come within throwing range. Harper was vicious.

“What are you doing?” asked Murphy with a smile on his face.

Harper replied with “What are you doing?” in the same tone Murphy had used.

Murphy said sharply “Well, I’ll answer when you do.”

Harper rolled her eyes and shrugged. “I’m stealing this microwave. I mean, I don’t think it needs an explanation when I’m carrying it out of this store.”

But of course, that answer was not good enough for Murphy. He wanted more. I guess, we’ll call him the detective. Questions were kind of pointless in a zombie Apocalypse but I guess that’s all he had.

“Look, I’m not going to drop this thing in the shower so you can watch me fry if that’s what you think” Harper said.

Murphy replied with a chuckle “That not what I meant at all. I just mean that we have no power so that thing of yours is useless. You need to say farewell to your microwaveable junk and load up the car.”

Harper walked towards the exit turning to look back at Murphy “Blah blah blah. Listen old man, you have your treasure and I have mine. I don’t ask you about your trinkets so back off.”

That was the night Murphy died. One chunk and you’re screwed. Those decaying monsters have teeth like daggers. One chunk and Harper had to do the hardest task she had ever done. It’s different when you’re putting a bullet in to those creatures, complete strangers. How could she put a bullet in to her best friend. Well, only she knows. After that night, Harper disappeared with every trace she ever left. It’s like she never existed to me.