CHAPTER 3 - QUEST
Unsettling noises and uneasy guests, the whole party drifts away as they search for anything useful. But there's a problem—this is a souvenir shop, there's no weapons nor food.
All they have are fancy overpriced t-shirts and some trinkets to sell.
"Don't you think this turtle looks funny?" I say as I dangle a keychain of a turtle with a plastic straw up its nose.
Carlos looks at me in awe. "I'm surprised you can... you can still joke at a time like this sir..."
I stare at him, then took a quick scan at the place. "You're right... sorry."
Everyone has their spirits down. They're busy trying to live and get out of this mess while I'm not even trying to survive. At the very least, I should show them that I'm struggling too. Hide that I have a different goal than the rest of them.
I don't need to survive.
I only need to fix this mess and I have all the time in the world to do so. It's not a matter of how, but when. And I'm getting to the bottom of this.
—As soon as I find a cool trinket to attach to my bag.
I continue browsing through the items and Carlos has long left my side and joined the others. They are gathering on the far side of the room hidden from the outside and have started to build a functional tent out of clothing and the large banners hung inside the store.
They're terrified but are working together to survive.
"Oh this is nice...," I mutter, holding a bracelet made of tiny shells and took two.
I walk closer to the little girl sitting with her mom, huddled up in a makeshift blanket weary and hungry. She's carrying a dinosaur plushie of a Sauropod, those long-necked dinosaurs, which are cute indeed. I can relate to her attraction to them.
"Hey, you okay?" I say, kneeling so my sight is lower than hers to claim trust and reliability. "My name's Vincent, what's yours?"
She hides in her mother's embrace. I smile and turned to the mother instead. She's wearing skinny jeans and a tucked shirt accentuating her breasts as well as a circular golden pendant, but that's beside the point...
"Thought she might like it," I say and handed her the bracelet.
Without waiting for a reply, I walk away and spot the kid who controlled the room earlier. He's a student judging by his attire: a varsity jacket and a wooden bat too, must be a baseball player.
Athletic and has got a good head on his shoulders, he's a decent asset.
"Morning. My name's Vincent," I approach, hands outstretched. "I respect you shouting earlier, no one could've done it as timely as you did. Thanks."
"Oh uh... don't mention it, just did what had to be done. It's normal really, anyone could do it if they watch a lot of zombie movies," he says, taking the handshake. "Oh! My name's Marcus, nice to meet you."
I smile. "Good to meet you too Marcus."
"Oh, you can call me Mark!"
I nod and gesture to help. Mark happily agreed. He's trying to make a spear out of dry racks for clothes which we have in abundance—about eight or so.
To show my willingness to contribute, I dig through my backpack and took out the knives and duct tape.
"You had these in your bag?" he asks, suspicious.
"I was planning to kidnap a child, you see, and then demand ransom but the apocalypse happened, so there's that," I answer, smiling. "That or I'm just a weirdo wearing an anime hoodie."
Mark sits dumbfounded before bursting into quiet laughter, his hand covering his mouth as he tremble with tears threatening to form in his eyes.
Suffice to say, I think he's less wary of me now.
Mark calms down and takes the knives. "In any case, thanks for these! I'll make you one as well if you want to join me in my quest...," his words trail, looking at me expectantly.
"Quest?" I ask.
He smiles. "Hehe, I'm a bit of a gamer sorry about that."
I shake my head and probe for an explanation. He nods but raises his hand signalling to wait. But I don't think I need much info, just a confirmation 'cause with his eyes darting around, observing, as well as the weapons he's making then perhaps he's trying to gather a few people to go outside and fetch supplies.
Mark walks up to the group carrying a crude spear and the wooden bat in either hands.
"Listen everyone," he says, confident, and I see a similar gleam in his eyes as the ones who played hero today. "We're going to go outside and get food. There's a 7-eleven two shops away from here but it's near the—let's call it a hellscape for now, but stay with me..."
He continues, "I think if we play our cards right then there might not be any danger at all. I need hands. Volunteers. Who wants to come with?"
He's met with silence.
No one in their right minds will willingly take on a mission with an uncertain degree of risk. There's too many variables that can lead to ruin and no one wants to willingly sacrifice themselves to be eaten alive.
"I'm coming," I say, to gain morale and reliability. "It wouldn't do to stay here and rot. We don't have food. There's always a risk, but if no one will do it then who else will?"
"Um, well... the police are coming," A young man with an "I love Clement!" shirt answers, likely a merchandise from the store.
"And who's to say they can get rid of those things within the day?" An old man interrupts. "Kill an innocent man, they sure do that well, but actually help citizens? Say that to all the black men who died in their hands."
"Hey now...," I say, attempting to mediate. "Let's focus on the problem."
"Problem? I'll tell you what the real problem is—it's that guy who thinks we can rely on those walking case of diabetes and whose every shred and fiber of being is hellbent on being racist and they should—!" he snarls, his voice getting high that we had to cover his mouth to shut him up.
"Lower your voice," I say before gesturing at Mark and Carlos to check the windows.
We hear footsteps but they're faint and far away. Most of the cars have stopped ringing and the only sounds left are groans from the wandering undead and their unsteady footsteps.
A few seconds pass and Mark delivers an okay sign and Carlos shows a thumbs up.
I sigh and let go of the old man. He's calmed down and took a seat, unapologetic of his remarks nor his behavior that almost cost us our hideout and safety.
"I'm sorry on his behalf, but he's right," I say to the others. "I haven't heard gunshots for a while and the military should've been on their way by now. But we've got nothing so far, not even a helicopter."
Their spirits go damp at my words but they have started to ponder on what to do next.
They've no other choice. If they want to live, then they need to keep moving and I need to see what's inside the rift while I'm out there.
"I'll go," the mom says.
Her daughter immediately reacts. "Huh? No, don't go! I don't want it! I'm not hungry anymore, I promise!"
She shushes her daughter but it'll take some time to calm her down. I think that's all of us. There's only a few people here and even fewer will come and take on this mission.
Mark claps softly. "Alright, so we got Vincent, Me, the old guy, and the mom! Seems promising!"
"I've got a name," the old man says. "It's Leonard. Call me Lee."
For an old man, he's pretty brave. Normally, old men tend to be cowards in movies and order younger people around and even sacrifice them to keep their selfish selves alive.
Glad to know reality is still different from media.
"Name's Vincent, nice to meet you," I shake hands with him and he nods. "Mark has a plan. I haven't heard it yet, but he's got a smart head."
"What choice do we have?" Lee sighs.
We scatter as the meeting ends. The quest-taker group are busy making crude spears and make-shift shields, and are reinforcing their limbs with clothes and duct tape.
I see Carlos sneak up on me.
"Hey sir...," he says. "Sorry I can't go with you, but I gotta survive for my daughter. And I'm scared. I can't take the risk going outside, but I'll do what I can here."
I nod, kind of expecting that. Unlike these people, I wake up when I die so it doesn't matter if I do risky things as long as they give a likely benefit.
"Got it," I say. "You hold the fort down and try to ease their nerves for now, we'll bring back food and other stuff we might need."
"Thanks for understanding!" he smiles and scampers off.
"Heh, coward," Lee comments. "He's not the only one with a family, hell that girl with a kid even volunteered to come and he has the audacity to sit back while she's risking her life out there? Take about shame!"
"Well we can't force him," I reply. "If he doesn't have the mindset to volunteer himself, then how can you expect him to not freeze up or keep quiet at the first sign of danger?"
Lee squints his eyes at me before smiling. "I like you kid."
I smile back, respect earned at the cost of putting others down. Carlos saved me by dragging me to this store and if he can't continue, I'd understand. At the end of the day, I'm alone in finishing—no, even starting my personal quest.
For each and everytime I die, I wake up having restarted the day with all my memories intact. But all relationships and memories I've built up during the erased time do not carry over to everyone else and I'm supposed to end this apocalypse.
For some reason, I'm the only one with such a heavy quest and I don't care why. I'm the protagonist of this story and I accept all the suffering ahead, and I accept that saving the world is my sole burden to bear.
But that doesn't mean I can't recruit allies.