Best Judgment

"It's right there." Wegman's, the afternoon sun breaking through clouds and lighting it like a beacon. With all the windows intact, and no visible debris out front, it looked like it hadn't been looted. There was no mystery as to why: the building was surrounded by the undead.

Violet shook her head. "A hundred yards across the field, zombies closing in from every direction. Then another fifty yards across the parking lot, between the cars. Then the doors, which might be locked—"

"The doors are glass, I have a crowbar"

"And then how many zombies are inside? Even if it's none, how long do you have before the ones outside follow you in and block your escape? How much food can you get in that time?"

"There's carts. I—"

"You good at dodging with a loaded cart? Are you gonna push it with one hand and shoot with the other? Did you suddenly become Chuck Norris without telling me?"

"We're almost out of food."

It was true, for what it was worth. "We've been almost out of food for months now. You need to get used to being almost out of food."

He shook his head in disgust; he raised the binoculars to his eyes. "I can see canned food stacked up inside. It's a whole display made of canned food. Vegetables."

"Great. You won't live to eat them."

"I'm going. You can stay if you want. It'd be easier if you helped."

"It's impossible either way. We'd need twenty people with rifles to crack this place, and that's assuming that it's actually worth the ammo we'd spend."

"I'm going."

"I'm not. And I'm not going to rescue you when you get surrounded."

His face hardened, and she knew it was over. He took off his pack, made sure his shoes were tied, made sure his clip was full, and set off in a dead run towards the store.

Violet waited until she heard him scream before she took his pack and left.