Stacy awakes with a soft gasp, a bead of sweat falling from her temple as she realizes that she is still lying on the couch, still with Rebecca and those other two men they had met the day before. 'Not running, not hiding. Not this time,' she thought to herself. 'No feeling of cold, ragged hands tearing at me,'. A shudder ran up her spine and she shakes her head, trying her best to push the nightmare from her mind. She catches her breath and looks around the apartment.

Similar to the other apartment, there's a small kitchen with only a few cabinets and a small stove. Empty picture frames in empty shelves stood beside the couch. She hears a soft grunts. She turns to see her sister turn aside, still deep in her in slumber. Soft clacking got her attention and she turns to see Jenkins and Mike sitting around a rather large dinner table, Mike cleaning parts of his rifle and Jenkins scribbling on a map laid out on the table.

"Morning" she mumbles as she lets out a heavy yawn and rubs her eyes.

"Good morning Stacy. Did we wake you?" Mike asks as tears a sheet of paper towel from a roll he has beside him and began wiping a blackish grime from the inside of the barrel.

"Nah. The nightmares did. What time is it?" Stacy asks as she takes a seat beside Jenkins, glancing at the scribbled map.

"Almost 8 in the morning. Hungry?" Mike asks as he points at the kitchen. Neatly stacked by one of the counter were several cereal boxes and cans of soup and vegetables. 

"Famished" she says, grabbing a box of 'Mini Wheaties' and pouring herself a bowl.

"So, what is the situation Mike?" 

"Well, good news is we are still alive. But that is the only good news," 

"What is the bad news?"

"We spent more ammo getting here then I thought. Combined we only have 93 rounds of 5.56mm. That's one magazine for the three of us. That food you see there on the counter? That is all we have left on food and worse, we only have a gallon of drinking water lef,t" 

"Fuck," Stacy says as she glances as at her bowl of dry cereal. 

"Plus I'm worried about your sister,"

"What about her Henry?"

"Sergeant said she froze right there, unresponsive to his shouting. He literally had to slap some sense into her to get her back to reality. That could get her killed if we get swarmed again,"

"Oh," said Stacy with a sad look on her face.

"I can't bear that. I don't want to be responsible for her death. I don't blame her or anything. I myself still can't get over the sight or even the sound of the undead. I am unsure right now to have you two tag along with us," Mike said, glancing at the sleeping Rebecca.

"Mike, you don't have to dwell on that. My sister and I have been through a lot. If it weren't for you she would have been dead yes, and I am grateful for that," she said as she places her hand on Mike's. "But we want to come with you. I at least do and knowing Rebecca, she'd want to too,"

At that moment Rebecca jerks up, looking frantically around the apartment before letting out a sigh of relief.

"You alright?" Mike asks, a look of concern on his face.

"Yeah," she mutters as she lets out another heavy sigh. "Just another nightmare," she says as she sits besides Mike.

"Thank you," she says, gently squeezing Mike's hand. "If it weren't for you, I would have been..."

"No problem. I'm just worried you'll freeze up again like that. What happened out there?" Mike said, flashing a sympathy smile at Rebecca.

"I...I just froze. Seeing so many zombies approaching us, hearing that awful moan. It got to me and I honestly thought right there is where we were going to die. But seeing you and Henry just continueing, and then seeing Stacy like that,"

"And the slap,"

"Yes and the slap. It brought me back to reality. I want to come with you guys. Help you guys out," She says, flashing a sympathy smile back.

"You two sure about that? I don't want to bring you in such situations again,"

"Well, by now we are used to it. Besides, you said it yourself you could use the extra firepower," Stacy says as she pushes her halffull bowl over to Rebecca.

"Okay then. So what exactly are we going to do today?" Rebecca asks, a smile of confidence on her face.

"That is what Jenkins and I are debating about. We are very low on ammo and water, but I don't want to have another Wallmart debacle. But Fenway could be heavily overrun and we'll need the ammo to push through. The only problem is I don't know where to search. The Wallmart were in has been almost entirely looted and I doubt there'd be much if any ammo there. The police stations are too overrun and would cost us a lot of ammo to get the ammo and again it could have already been all taken during the outbreak. That is another thing we are discussing,"

"I know of a place,"

"You do? Where Rebecca? Show us on that map," Mike says, pointing at the scribbled map. After studying it for a few moments she points at the center of the map, where a black square has been drawn around a smaller square.

"Right there is a Targets. We were there at the beginning. I worked there. A truck has collided and has crashed into the entrance, completely blocking it off. Any other entrance has been locked from the outside. I did confiscate the keys from the Janitor there. So it should be relatively empty,"

"Any dangers?"

"Yeah. A lot of people got locked in. I can still hear their screams. I barely got out of there in one piece," Rebecca says with a look of dispair. Her sister patts her on the back and flashes her a soft smile. Rebecca looks back at Mike, the look of dispair still on her face.

"I see. Well, it's not much to work with and could be looted but if all entrances and exits have been blocked off and locked, then there is the chance that there is a lot of supplies for the grab. Plus Fenway is not that far away from Targets. We could camp on a roof top and after gathering such supplies we can go on to Fenway. Did Targets sell ammo?"

"Not just ammo, but weapons and weapon assessories too," 

"Fantastic. Then we'll eat, gather our things, and head out to Targets in roughly an hour. You two could also get a clean set of clothes for the two of you," Mike says, a smile on his face. The others smiled back, a look of confidence on everyone's face.

Roughly two hours later, a block away from Targets

From the top of a van, Mike looks at a Targets further down the street through a pair of binoculars. A crashed Valley Dew truck blocks both entrances to the large building making the truck doors the only access point. After losing count after infected number fourteen roaming around the parking lot he lowers the binoculars in a grumbling tone.

"What is it?" asked Rebecca as Mike got down from the car.

"It's the truck you mentioned. It's completely blocking the path and trying to get it open could be tricky. Truck door is badly bent so it looks like we'll need to pry it open. You have your tools with you Jenkins?" 

"Just the crowbar and a small hammer Sergeant," Jenkins says as he grabs the binoculars from Mike.

"I count...twenty two no twenty three walking corpses around the parking lot. We might just have to smash the glass and climb through the side window," 

"No. That noise could attract that horde we barely passed," Mike says as he puts away his small binoculars. 

"So how will take out those zombies without causing any noise?" Rebecca asks, looking out at the parking lot of Targets, shuddering at the sight of all of the infected. 

"Simple," Mike says, pulling out his combat machete. "We engage with blades and blunt weapons. Ever swung one before?" Mike says, slowly swinging his blade in the air. 

"Not really" Rebecca answered. 

"Then today will be the day you learn" he says as he hands her his machete. 

"Wha-what? I can't swing that I-"

"It's okay. It's not easy to even think about swinging such a weapon, let alone get used to it, I know. It is something to get used to. Wasn't easy for me either but I'll guide you along the way okay?" She nods grasping the grip of the blade.

"It's not as heavy as I thought" she says, slowly swinging the blade at the air. 

"How about you Stacy? Crowbar any good for you?" Mike asks, seeing Stacy swing Jenkins' crowbar back and forth.

"A little heavy, but easy on the hand," Stacy says, nodding at Jenkins.

"Good. We stick back to back and clear this parking lot. Let the undead come to us, not us come to them. We do not break off understand?" Mike says as he unsheathes his ka-bar knife and Jenkins a machete equal to Mike's.

Everyone nods. Back to back, they slowly make their way to the parking lot. Rebecca and Stacy began to feel nervous, their legs felt like jello, as Mike lets out a loud whistle and seeing the almost two dozen infected turn to the group and approach them with outstretched arms. Rebecca takes a few deep breaths as the first infected, a woman her age in a torn Targets uniform, is only a few feet away. She swings sideways with all her might, slicing the blade cleanly through the forehead of the infected woman. Stacy swings next, caving in the forehead of an undead soldier wearing the uniform of the National Guard but missing her helmet. Her eyes rolled back underneath her gasmask as she collapses to the ground.

A nauseous feeling overcomes Rebecca as she decapitates an infected man, his head hitting the ground and a brownish red substance splashing her ankles. The nausea grew as she turns to Mike and sees him thrust the knife into the forehead of an infected young girl. She turns to Stacy, trying her best to hold in her gag reflexes, and sees her swing the crowbar forward, knocking an undead man in the forehead. He stumbles backwards and hits a parked car with a flashing light in its dashboard. As the infected man falls, the headlights of the car begin to flash and a loud alarm began to echo across the entire parking lot. 

"So much for the silent approach," Mike grunts as he pulls out his Beretta M9 and shoots the last two infected in the forehead. "Jenkins, get to work on the truck door. Stacy and Rebecca, the three of us will hold of the zombies as long as possible!" shouted Mike as he points at the truck, then the sisters.

They nod as they handed Mike and Jenkins their weapons and each accept Mike's M1911's along with one spear magazine. Fear began to envelope Rebecca again as she sees the dozens of infect approach them from all directions in front of her. She sees Stacy having a fearful expression on her face and heavily breathing as well. Then she feels a hand on her shoulder. She looks up, right at the tinted lenses of Mike's gas mask. 

"It's ok," he says in his amplified voice. "I'm scared too. We can do this together. You take the left flank, Stacy you'll take the right. I'll focus on the center. Don't let them get too close, control your breathing, and make every shot count." Rebecca looks over at Stacy, jumpy as she and Mike open fire. Stacy's face wasn't filled with fear anymore like two weeks ago, but instead shows a calm, more determined look on her face. She takes a deep breath, aims the pistol at the closest infected and pulls the trigger. 

The man with the missing arm and a knife sticking out of his gut flinches back a little as the .45 caliber round strikes him in the left shoulder. She grunts and fires again, missing him. She fires two more times, the rounds only gracing him. A little upset, she takes in another deep breath. The man, now only thirty feet away, began to moan louder and gnashing his bloody teeth wildly. She fires again, this time striking him inbetween the eyes. His head jerks back as he sags to the ground motionlessly. 

She eyes the next approaching infected, a woman in a torn BPD uniform also gnashing her teeth wildly. This time, it seems as if all of Rebecca's fear has been flushed out, her only focus being to end that woman's misery. She aims, fires, and feels a rush of relief and adrenaline as the woman sags to the ground. 

"Hey Sergeant, I'm going to need help with this door!" Jenkins shouts. Mike looks back and sees Jenkins struggling with the dented truck door as it has only opened a couple inches.

"Roger. You two continue holding them back," Mike shouts back as he sees that the amount of undead have greatly reduced and holsters his pistol.

"What? Wait no, we need you here Mike," Rebecca cries. 

"You two got this. You two are doing a fantastic job without me. Just keep doing what you are doing," Mike says, patting Rebecca and Stacy on the back and giving them a thumbs up as he turns and jogs towards the truck.

"We got this Rebecca, alright?" Stacy says, giving her sister a supportive smile. Rebecca nods, smiling weakly back as she aims back at the moaning crowd only thirty something feet away and began shooting again.

Mike and Jenkins let out a heavy grunt as they press all of their weight against the crowbar pried into the driver's door of the truck. The door nudges just a little before Mike and Jenkins stop to catch their breath. 

"Goddamn door is wedged tight as fuck," Jenkins moans as he starts to press his body weight against the jammed crowbar. Mike starts pushing too, but the door gave out only half an inch. 

"Mike! Some of the zombies are running towards us!" Mike heard Stacy shout. He and Jenkins turn back and their eyes under their gasmasks widened as they see dozens of infected fall to the ground out of burst open buildings, get up, then run towards them on all fours in an inhuman, animal like manner. 

"Fuck fuck fuck! Jenkins! Push harder!" Mike shouts as he began pushing against the crowbar with all his might. Jenkins joined in, grunting and pushing. 

"Open goddammit!" Jenkins shouts as the door only nudges another half inch. Stacy and Rebecca began slowly backing up as numbers of the running infected grew too many. 

Despite all the shooting, the parking lot soon became heavily crowded with the walking infected getting dangerously closed. With one final push, the door finally gives in its oppression and swings open. 

"Everyone inside. We'll cover you!" Mike shouts as he and Jenkins pull out their pistols and fire at the running and walking undead while motioning the sisters to run. Like the one at Wallmart, their skin shows signs of heavy decomposition and most of their hair has fallen off. They ignore the hazing bullets and their falling comrades, bumping past their walking brethren. Rebecca and Stacy did not hesitate and immediately begin to spring towards the truck with Jenkins inside ready to help them in. 

After Rebecca and Stacy climb in, Mike climbs in just as the running infected reach the truck. Without hesitation Jenkins pulls out his Glock 17 and empties the gun into the moaning crowd, finally being able to close the truck door just as the horde begin to swarm around the truck and begin pounding and scratching their blood covered hands into the dented metal, their moans echoing loudly.