When the guys first told us we would be getting RVs to live in for their master plan, I cringed and imagined the ugly orange upholstery and tacky wooden trim of my parents' camper from childhood. Turned out that RVs had seriously upped their game since then. With the majority of the population dead or in hiding and no one minding the store we picked out the best of the best in high-end campers. The one I live in has six slide-outs to double the space.
The large living room at the back has a full couch, two recliners, an electric fireplace, a flat-screen TV, and is slightly bigger than my old condo’s living room. There’s a freestanding dining table that can expand to seat six comfortably and a kitchen with a house-sized fridge, four-burner gas stove and oven, double sinks, and an island for even more counter space.
Next to the kitchen is a bunk room in its own slide-out. It has a jackknife sofa that converts to a bed, a bunk over top of that, and a small desk and cupboard. Turning right from the entrance are three steps that go up to a landing with a small ladder leading up to a loft bed area. After that is the bathroom and then the master bedroom that has two slide-outs and a king-sized bed with the very front wall covered in mirrored closet doors. It’s fucking epic as far as campers go. The camper beside mine used to be Tara and Ryan’s and has a similar layout except it doesn’t have the bunk room or loft. The final one had been Lisa and Tommy’s and it’s a huge ass motorhome. At the time, I chose this one because I was the only single in our group and had hopes that other survivors would join us in time and there would be room for them. I was a fucking fool.
Kelsey’s camper:
I take a couple of deep breaths and remind myself about the whole new outlook thing and snap on a pair of rubber gloves because - fresh nails and all. It takes me a few hours to get everything shipshape and sparkling again with all the laundry, dishes, sheets, and bathroom cleaned up. After a snack of cheese and slightly stale crackers I head out to check on the girls and let them know they need to put their party hats on for tonight. I walk past the other two campers and follow the rock wall for thirty feet with my eyes tracking up the rock. I scan the strong mesh rock fall nets that the guys bolted into the rock ten feet above the tarp, looking for any fallen rocks or random zombies. It had only happened once and none of us could figure out how one of the dead had gotten up there in the first place but it had freaked us all out in a big way. I had nightmares for weeks afterwards about zombies dive-bombing our camp from above. The nets started out bright orange but we spray painted them a flat grey before putting them up to help them blend into the scenery.
Seeing that the nets are clear, I take another look over the gardens, noting that the corn was getting to be a nice height, and step into the cavern. Right away I’m greeted by my girls with squawks and balks. Feathers start flying as they rush to the gate in welcome or more likely for feed. I grab a scoop of chicken feed and my egg bucket and wade into the flock.
“Ladies! Big news … Huge news!” I call out to the flapping hens as I toss feed in an arc to spread it out. “We are lighting this shit UP! Put your best feathers on because tonight is GIRLS NIGHT! Whoop-whoop!”
With the last of the feed spread out I move over to the nesting cubbies and start gathering eggs while I chatter away at them.
“Yes, ma’am we are going to rock the cavern tonight. I expect all of you to put your best effort in but watch your drunk levels. Don’t think I’m going to be holding back your feathers if you start puking.”
I turn and point. “Yes, I’m looking at you Snookie! You’re always the first one who takes it too far, you lightweight.” The chicken in question flaps her wings and balks at me in outrage. I cock a hip and glare back at her.
“Well, flock you too! You and J-Wow are always stirring up shit around here. Girl, push me and see if you don’t end up in the pot. I ain’t playing!” When Snookie settles her feathers and goes back to pecking at the ground I nod. “Uh-huh, that’s what I thought."
With one last scowl to show I mean business, I turn away and open the gate between the inside and outside pen so the girls can go get some sun after they’re done eating.
I leave them to it and carry the egg bucket to the cavern kitchen, setting it beside two other buckets that are already brimming with eggs on a long stainless steel table that we appropriated from a high school cafeteria. I sigh at just how much work I’ve let pile up in my funk and pull my phone from my back pocket to check the time. I still have a few hours before I have to do my hair and get dressed for the party so I get cracking … literally.
I crack eggs into a ginormous steel bowl, tossing the shells into the compost box. I keep careful count until I hit fifty and then whisk them up until they get frothy. Each one of the five dehydrators can process fifty eggs at a time and when I’m done, I have three filled and cooking for the next ten hours before I will grind them up for storage. I need to get this out of my way because the early tomatoes, peppers, and onions will need to be picked and processed into sauces and salsa in the next few days. I wash everything up and clean the mess away, flick off the lights and head out of the cavern and back into the sun.
I spend the next hour walking my gardens, pulling the occasional weed, and checking for any bugs or rot before finally heading to Lisa’s motorhome to find something to wear tonight. Where Tara loved her makeup and beauty products, Lisa was a total fashionista. She threw herself into scavenging as many apocalypse inappropriate outfits as she could, like a kid in a candy store with an unlimited allowance. I miss my best bitches so hard right now and try not to hate them too much for leaving me. It takes me a while to go through the many stacked storage totes she had filled with men’s and women’s clothes and finally strike gold in the master closet. The space is crammed with high-end women’s fashions and I can’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of Lisa hoarding such clothing when she would never get to wear it, even if she had lived. I run my hands over silk, satin, and lace knowing for a fact she’d have even more if there had been space.
I finally settle on a short, silver, strapless number that flares out - stopping mid-thigh with layers of silver ribbon hemmed black crinoline under the skirt. It’s completely over the top for my hen party but why the hell not? My girls don’t judge me … most of the time. There’s a bag looped over the hanger with silver strappy stilettos to match the dress and a slim case with jewelry but I leave the shoes because - still a zombie apocalypse - and you never really know when you might need to run. Instead, I find a pair of thigh-high black boots with silver buckles and sturdier block heels. They don’t really match the dress, but close enough for the hens.
I carry everything over to my sparkling clean camper and prepare the most important item to get the night started, a strawberry margarita. Thank god for the bottles of mix that only need ice and tequila to make a club-worthy drink. As I sip my first cocktail for the night I throw on a dance playlist to set the mood and start pulling rollers from my hair. The color rinse was a success and I tilt my head back and forth, loving the cherry overlay on my dark curls. The second cocktail I make goes down even smoother than the first as I touch up my makeup and shimmy into the silver dress.
It takes some comical wrangling to get it zipped up but I’m feeling giddy from the booze so I just laugh as I play clothing twister to get it in place. I twist my hips to make the skirt sway and bounce a few times to make sure my tits will stay inside the strapless bodice but it’s tight with built-in push-up support so they bulge out perfectly and there is no need to worry about flashing the girls some nip, no matter how hard I dance. Boots, a choker, hoops, and lipstick complete the outfit and I stand back from the closet mirrors and take in the whole effect.
“Fuck me, what a goddamn waste. Any other night, any other place, and I wouldn’t be going home from the club alone looking like this,” I tell my reflection with a frown.
I toss my hair back and reach for my drink only to find it empty again, time to go. I’m going to knock my hen’s feathers off with this look. I stop on my way out and refill my drink for the road, grab my phone and earbuds, hit the exterior lights so I don’t kill myself later trying to get home drunk, and finally head to the party.
It’s early yet, the sun is just dipping towards the treetops, but this is the most popular club around so it should be getting busy. The closer I get to it the more I construct my fantasy and by the time I reach the cavern entrance, Tara and Lisa have appeared on either side of me laughing and giggling. I smile coquettishly at the bouncer and he unhooks the red velvet rope with a nod for us to go through. Hot girls don’t wait in line after all. I slip my earbuds into my ears and hit play. I love the DJ at this place so much.
The hot beats of Calvin Harris have my hips swaying as we make our way onto the dance floor. John Newman blames it on the night as the three of us bump, grind and spin to the beat while laughing. Song after song, I move my body to the music and lose myself to the fantasy. When I drain my third cocktail of the night I make eyes at the cock across the way who’s checking me out but when he caws at me I turn my back. I know a player when I see one. It does make me think about ending the night with a random hook up though. It’s been … fuck … over a year since my last orgasm and I know just the dusty, purple bad boy vibrator to get the job done. If I can find it.
When the DJ goes retro with some C & C Music Factory, I throw my hands over my head and close my eyes as I dance. I can feel the hot bodies crowding me and smell the mix of sweat, perfume, and cologne overtop of stale beer as I rock out. Fuck, this is exactly what I needed.
I’m feeling nicely buzzed from the drinks and even the slightly sore feet from my heels add to the picture of a time when all was well in my life and the world. I can feel the smile stretched across my face as I spin but when the music cuts out and is replaced by an annoying foghorn alarm in my ears, I stumble on my feet and my eyes fly open.
The light in the cavern is flashing red like a strobe and for a few beats, I consider just ignoring it. Letting it all end here and now while I look hot and my head is filled with good memories. I glance at my hens though and the image of the dead tearing them apart has me squeezing my fists so tight that my nails bite into my palms.
“ARGGGG, MOTHERFUCKER!” I scream out. “Can’t you leave me in peace for just one fucking night?”
My chest heaves in rage as I look around the cavern - now empty of my two best friends and all the other club dancers. My perfect moment, my perfect night is gone and I know the party’s over and there’s only one thing left to do. Kill the fuckers who ruined this for me and this time, they’ll stay dead.
Kelsey
Istomp over to a row of metal spikes in the wall and snatch my favorite double holster already filled with two silenced handguns. I add a few extra magazines to the loops, throw the holster on, and check the app on my phone to see which area of the fence is being hit before tucking it back into my tall boot top and start running. Rage coupled with the alcohol I’ve consumed is making me stupid as I fly through the gardens toward the first fence but I just don’t fucking care anymore. If tonight’s the night I die, so be it. My hen party was starting to bring me back a little bit but this just shoved me ten steps back into the darkness.
The sun has set but there’s still enough light for me to navigate. I should go to one of the guard platforms to get a look at what I’m facing while it’s still light out but I’m just so fucking furious that I head straight to the gate closest to the area that’s being attacked. The secondary alarm hasn’t gone off yet so I know the outer fence hasn’t been breached. So far it is just the pressure sensors that have gone off and I should be fine to pick off the zombies that are threatening the outer fence and redirect the rest.
