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2. TAKING CONTROL

“What the fuck?!”

Her face showed only anger and confusion. Difficult thoughts kept racing through her mind.

“Chloe, I know how this sounds, but we can’t live through your childhood fantasies. This is real life, not a book. We have to look for help. We can’t make it on our own. Honey, I know it’s difficult for you to understand that what you read can never work out in real situations. Hence the word ‘fiction’.”

Chloe Ryan. Yes, that was her name. She stared at her mother. She was very hurt and angry. Also, she felt betrayed and scared.

“Mom, listen to me! There is no help! Everyone is on their own! My plan might work, but you have to listen to me. My age means nothing. We have to consider every possibility. We can look for others later. Now it’s only us.”

“Honey, calm down. I’m your mother and I know what’s best for you. Your childish fan-“

“For fuck sake, mother. I love you. But if you don’t see sense, I will just leave on my own. Fuck the police! They even refuse to call this as it fucking is! They are ignorant. Your plan of either ‘staying at home or leaving for the station’ is fucking ridiculous and you know it. People are fucking dying and standing back up! Face the facts! We are on our own!”

She ran upstairs, rushed into her bedroom shutting the door behind her, locking it to make sure no one disturbs her. She can’t relay on anyone. Chloe loved her mother and knew that the only reason she is being this way was fear.

She took her backpack and stuffed some clean clothing inside. She made sure not to take too much and only what will be necessary. She placed her heavy belt with studs around her waist. Usually worn as an accessory, now it would be good enough as her weapon carrier. Weapons. She had none. She wished they had a gun in the house, but that was just wishful thinking. She didn’t know how to use a gun anyway, so she would have to improvise.  

She got on her stomach and reached under her bed. No one knew that she had a box of supplies there for such occasion. Nothing much, but some canned foods, bottled water, an army knife, a block of cigarettes, a flash light and a first aid kit. What was it doing under her bed, you may ask.  She had a vivid imagination and knowing it’s there helped her with her paranoia. 

She packed everything away and went straight to her pet’s cage. She owned two lovely pet rats. She adored them and would not leave them behind. She placed a small blanket into their carrier and after kissing both of their heads, placed them inside. She collected all of their supplies and stood in the middle of the room, thinking. 
She ran to her drawer and took out a scarf. She didn’t want to be recognised in case she did something illegal or got into trouble. Laws… Did they still exist?

She had laughed out loud when her brother Alex had come up with the idea of hiding in the mall throughout the whole thing. She was roaring with laughter while her mother was yelling at her. They both thought it was a brilliant idea. Chloe knew better. Did they really think that they were the only ones with that on mind?

She crept out of her room and into her mothers. She stole one of her mothers’ credit cards, just in case people still thought money was worth something. But Chloe knew that, if not already, soon enough the new currency would become security and food.

She laughed to herself. All those zombie books she had read and movies she had seen might come in handy now.

She heard a woman screaming outside. Her body shook as the awful noise pierced her eardrums. She almost tripped as she ran to close the window to shut the horror out. She hadn’t cried yet and this was not the time to start. Her face expression changed from fear and dread to determined indifference.

BANG! BANG! BANG! “LET ME IN!!!” BANG. BANG. BANG.

Sigh.

She hid her backpack and her pet carrier under the table and unlocked the door. Mother rushed in, looking around the room until her eyes settled on Chloe. She looked scared and worried, but once they made eye contact, the girl could only see love and relief in those weary eyes.

“Oh, thank God you’re here. I heard a lot of noise upstairs, then screaming from outside… I thought you left! I thought you were getting killed!” She hugged her young daughter, tears running down her scarlet, tired face.
Chloe wanted to cry with her mother, but kept her face expressionless and her tone firm.

“Mom, I am okay. But, I am leaving soon. You can either come with me or stay here and wait for help that will never arrive. I wish you would come with me, but I don’t think me dying here with you will be any help. I know this sounds heartless and cold, but I cannot relay on your lack of experience and irrational behaviour. You can’t protect us anymore. We can work together, but I refuse to follow your lead because I know that it will result in our deaths. I will find a place I can make safe. If you choose to stay behind, I promise I will look for you once a hideout is up and running. I’m taking matters in my own hands and I can’t play your little girl forever. It will be hard to leave you behind, but now it’s a game of survival. I’d rather die fighting to survive than while waiting for someone else to save me.”


“Chloe… Baby, you can’t leave… What if something happens out there?”

“Have you been listening to me? Make your choice.”

“I will go with you, but you have to promise me that we will look for help first.”

“No. Maybe we are the help. I leave in half an hour. If you are coming, then be at the door, packed, by the time I’m done. I have to tell my plan to Alex and see if he’s up for it or are we going our separate ways. Promise me that you will either come with me or Alex. You’ll be safer with one of us.”

“I’m your mother and I sa-“

“And I’m your daughter. That means fuck all when it comes to survival. Sure, maybe we will get shot just as we leave our house, but I choose that over this. I am also a human, a person with my own instincts. My knowledge and instincts overpower your mother instinct, which technically puts me in charge.”

“Get shot? Those zombie things can shoot?!” She looked sceptical, but still worried as she recognised her daughters’ authority in these matters.


“Mom, don’t be silly. They cannot use tools. I’m talking about other survivors. Panic. Sometimes you have to fear others more than the direct threat.”

“Are you saying… that we’re unsafe here? That we could get killed by… people?! Oh my God. I never thought of that…”

“That’s my point. Now I have to run a few things by Alex before I finish gathering supplies. Think about it. Mom, I love you.”

The girls’ mother stood there, crying as she watched her daughter walk away.

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