Rating: PG 13
Summary: Someone is on a quest to try and save someone they thought they'd never see again and maybe never will. Zombie Apocalypse Brittana, kind of resident evil meets Walking dead meets glee.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and the title is taken from the Pistol Annie's song of the same name.
Hell On Heels
She sat alone in the corner, trying to be as quiet as she could. They always seemed to come out in full force at night, why she wasn't sure but that's not what mattered. What mattered was that the streets were swarmed with them. Her family was gone, every one of them turned, she was on her own and her house was never her home.
There was only one thing that kept her going, and until that was gone she would never give up. The biggest problem now was that she had to find a way to get from Los Angeles to the Ohio.
"Never should have moved, stupid ass." She mumbled to herself under her breath. Keeping quiet was crucial. Any wrong move and she would have the swarm that was just outside the walls all over her and she wasn't about to be food. She looked down at her gun and realised she was quickly running out of ammo. If she was going to make it anywhere she had to get more ammunition and a way to travel aside from her feet.
Using the wall next to her she pulled the pen out of her pocket and began to write herself a list of things she'd need.
Anything else wasn't necessary and would only slow her down. Her only fear was not what awaited her outside but what, if anything was left in Ohio. She got about fifteen minutes of sleep even though it felt like an hour. Just enough rest to get her through the next few days. The first thing she needed to do was find some more ammunition and a car.
Peeking through the holes in the boarded windows she saw that the streets were clear. Before opening the door she took a last look at her soundings. If all went as she wanted it to she wouldn't be coming back. As she walked down the street she noticed one sitting by a fence. It got up slowly and before it had a second to make another move she hit it with her baseball bat. Over and over again until she was sure it wouldn't be getting up.
That was the thing, something that took awhile for people to notice. The only way to kill these things, the walkers, was to put a bullet in their head or beat their heads in. You could chop of their limbs, spray their chests with bullets but it was a waste. People wasted ammo doing just that before they took them down.
That was the other thing, one small bite, one scratch and you were as good as dead. It started with a fever and it's the fever that kills you. That is until you come back, but when you come back it's not really you. The only thing left is a need for flesh, memories, personality they were all vanish once you turned.
There it was, just what she had been looking for, a small sheriffs station. When she walked in the front door it was clear that who ever had been there hadn't left a whole lot, but they definitely left someone or rather something dead. Sure enough as she walked around a desk she saw the body laying limp on the floor. A single gunshot wound to the head.
She looked around quickly, she had become accustomed to sneaking in and out of places. The less time in one place the better. There was nothing she needed on the first floor so she made her way down to the basement. Using her flash light she shined the light on the doors to see if they had any labels. After checking a few of the rooms she stumbled upon what she wanted. Guns.
First she grabbed as much ammo as she could before grabbing a few handguns, a couple shotguns and the two grenades that were left. There wasn't much else to take after that, she definitely wasn't the first person to make their way down she rounded the corner she heard a grunting noise pop out in front of her. Without hesitating she held her gun up and pulled the trigger. "Shit." She mumbled knowing that the sound would attract more of them and she couldn't outrun an angry mob on foot. Making her way back upstairs she looked in drawers before finding what she wanted. A set of keys. "Today must be my lucky day." Before long she was driving down the highway in the front of a police car instead of the back of one.
The next few days were a blur of open roads and scavenging for food and gas. She stayed away from any main cities. Most people had fled to them in hopes of being protected by the army or by being in a large group. Once things really broke loose so did any structure the army or civilians may have had. There were a few runs ins and tough moments and she had had to ditch the cruiser for a truck. Something she wasn't so inclined to do because a truck meant using more gas but she had caused too much damage to the car. Running over zombies would do that to. Once the car's tire went flat she knew she was in for it, with night fall fast approaching. She grabbed what she needed and started walking, that's when she had found the truck. Now she was closing in on Ohio and she didn't know what she expected to find when she got there. It was like a ghost town, cars and trucks lined the streets, left by their owners.
Once on the right street she looked at the large house on the hill at the end of the street and wondered if she was too late. She was pretty sure no one was left in this town, no one except the Walkers. Noticing the swarm of Walkers headed up the hill, and the sun setting she knew she couldn't fight them all off without attracting more of them. So she did the one thing she could think off. Grabbing the duffle bag of guns and the few bags of chips she had managed to find, she took out her bat and broke the windows of the expensive cars that lined the road. Jumping back into the truck she steered it off the road and parked it somewhat out of sight. Then she ran for it, adrenaline pumping.
Making it up the hill she got the gate open before closing it. Shaking it quietly to test how sturdy it was. She made her way around to the back of the house and just as she got closer to the door, Walkers. Dropping the guns she took a few swings at their heads, they were falling but getting back up. It must have been the lack of sleep catching up to her, taking power off her swing. One scraped at her arm, cutting the leather of her jacket but not managing to go any deeper. Finally she was able to kill them for good but it had taken a lot out of her and if the house wasn't safe, she wasn't sure how much longer she'd make it. Taking the now ripped jacket off she threw it down.
"So much for that one, little bastards." Picking up the bat she looked up at the doors and silently prayed. Hearing noises behind her she turned around and saw another Walker. This time, she dug deep and crushed the side of its head with one swing. It wasn't until after it was dead that she noticed who it was, Will Schuester . Turning around, tired, dirty and almost hopeless she had never seen a better sight.
"Santana?" The girl ran towards her, a gun visible under her belt. "Brittany." She let out a small smile before wrapping her arms around the girl.