Free Razor Girl by Marianne Mancusi

discount commerce, the next they were collapsing where they stood, their lungs seizing up, their hearts failing—and those were the lucky ones. What went through their minds as they fell to the hard, cold pavement? Had they pled for some kind of last-minute divine intervention? At what moment had they resigned themselves to the fact that none would come?
    As she stared at a car that looked vaguely familiar—was it the Smart Nissan of one of her teachers?—a lump formed in her throat that she struggled to swallow down. She wassupposed to be tough now, after all. Her father had trained her for this: to be strong, to not let overwhelming emotion wash her away. So there were some dead people here. So it went. After all, she was a razor girl. Like Molly Millions. And Molly Millions didn’t cry.
    She faltered, unable to go on. Her dad would be ashamed.
    Suddenly a strong grip found her shoulder, spinning her around. Chase cupped her chin in his hand. His fingers were warm—and when had he grown so big? He forced her face to look at him, and she suddenly remembered the kaleidoscopes that were his eyes. Those greens and yellows and blues. That sympathetic gaze.
    “Are you okay?” he asked. She realized she was trembling. How embarrassing. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her weak.
    “I’m fine,” she retorted, shaking her head to free herself of his hand. He gripped her chin tighter, running a finger along her jaw. That touch sparked an ache deep inside—one she found she couldn’t will away. Like everything else in this world.
    “Sure you are,” he said, giving a nod. “That’s why you’re white as a sheet.”
    She slumped her shoulders and sighed. “Okay, fine. It’s…a lot to take in. I admit it.”
    “Duh,” he said, bitter amusement in his voice. “When we first got back, after being in the mountains for so long, we couldn’t believe it.” He let go of her chin and she felt a weird emptiness inside, then scolded herself for feeling it. Whatever had been between them, it was long over. The sooner she recognized that, the better. “I threw up like three times when I saw the first bodies.”
    “I did, too,” she admitted. “Outside my house, I saw…a child.” She shuddered.
    “You get used to it after a while,” he said, staring around the parking lot. “I know that probably sounds crazy, but trust me, it’ll happen. One day you’ll be out and about—hunting for food or whatever—and something will strike you as funny.You’ll start laughing just like you would have before.” He turned back to her, his face earnest if sad. “You’ll be standing there alone, smack-dab in this mass graveyard we call Earth, surrounded by cannibalistic zombies and cackling like a loon.” He smiled for a moment, a cocky grin she never remembered him having before, then grimaced. “It’s that moment you realize life goes on. And it really does. Until you bite it.”
    She exhaled, not sure what to say. She wanted to believe him, but at the moment she couldn’t imagine ever laughing again or treating this reality with such nonchalance. It was all too grim. “If you say so, dude,” she finally replied, choosing bravado over sincerity, mostly because she was too frightened to show anything else.
    “It’s okay, don’t believe me,” he said with a smirk. “I wouldn’t believe myself either.” He ushered her through the parking lot. “Now, come on, let’s get inside before we lose all the light.”
    They walked up to what had once served as the front of the store. The normal glass-windowed entrance was boarded up with large sheets of metal, roughly fused together with a combination of bolts and solder.
    “The Others aren’t too shy about jumping through glass windows,” Chase explained, gesturing to the makeshift barriers. “Hell, it’s practically an Olympic sport for them. But they can’t see for shit and aren’t too smart, so the metal here keeps them out. Tank rigged it up a couple