The Value of a Nail

 “The value of a nail is often underestimated” she thought, an exhausted grin creeping over her features. For a while, after it happened she mostly spent her time hiding and running. Somehow, despite the exhaustion and hunger, another sort of need became the most pressing. Boredom can be far more deadly than the swarms of millions of infirm that now inhabit the world. Sure, she supposed, they were dangerous in a different sort of way considering their brute strength and numbers. Today was a good day, her life saved by a nail. Earlier that morning she had gone ‘hunting’ which usually meant breaking into a local supermarket and scavenging for anything edible. Normally these types of excursions are cakewalks, as the infirm can rarely operate doors that don't open on their own.

The doors of the minimart had seemed, to her, to be impenetrable walls of glass and iron hoarding safety and nourishment against the evil of what the world had become. Stepping lightly she cracked the door and slipped in. instantly the smell of rotting food and dust surrounded her. The smell used to worry her, but over the years she had learned to associate the smell of rot with possible gains. Sure, the meat and eggs might be bad, but if they weren't dust yet then the Twinkies should be fine, right? It was dark, but electricity was a long forgotten luxury. She crept between the isles, careful to move as silently as possible. Her backpack, recently emptied, steadily became full again as she progressed methodically through the store. Once she had reached the back of the store she noticed a wooden door with a glass window that seemed out of place. The store seemed empty enough so she approached the door with a bit more confidence than she normally would afford to curiosity. she peered through the dusty chicken wire window and her eyes lit up.”FUCKIN’ BOOZE MAN, HELL YES!” a half full bottle of bourbon sat upon a desk situated at the far end of the office she looked into. She tried the door and found it to be locked.

This was not a cause for alarm, over the last few years she had learned many tricks to get past situations like this. After a few minutes of manic searching she came across the hardware section of the store and began using the tools surrounding her to beat several nails flat. She returned with her cache of improvised lock picks, making a point of stowing the nails and hammer for later use. After several frustrating minutes and several minor lacerations to her fingertips the doorknob turned and she stumbled into the room. She approached her prize, slowly, relishing the reward of a successful run. She made a deliberate effort not to snatch the bottle and run away like a crazed wino, despite the frantic beating of her heart and the manic energy she had worked up creeping through the store. She scooped up the bottle gingerly and uncorked it. The biting scent of a strong drink promised fun times. She turned to leave, and stopped for a moment, confused.

The store had been dark, but she was sure she had been able to see the windows from the office. As her eyes adjusted to the change in lighting a pang of fear wracked her guts. She had dealt with these things before. Faced down hundreds of infirm, surely. But this was not like anything she had ever seen. A bulk towered over her, blocking out the door entirely. 7 feet of greasy skin, fat, and muscle loomed at her menacingly.”heyyyy...” the creature said, suspiciously ”THAS MINE!” The sound came out of the monster like a gale, pounding her skeleton and ears. She flew into a blind panic and tried to run, turning to the window behind her and scrambling over the desk to reach it. More chicken wire. She turned to face the beast again, stilling her hands and breathing slowly.’I cant panic, otherwise i'm no better than any of them.’ she thought. The rage apparent on the infirm's face, was, in its own way worse than the certain fatal beating she was about to receive. It lunged. She threw herself out of the way, banging her knees on the floor painfully.

The big brute ran directly into the wall behind her and smashed its face into the window leaving a sinewy tracery of cracks along its surface. She didn't know what to do, the bag containing the hammer in it dangled limply from its shoulder and she didn't think she could get to it before she was broken in two my the horrendous strength contained in the monster's limbs. She began to take a quick inventory of everything she could use as a weapon. She had a shirt, maybe she could strangle it? No its neck was probably thicker than her arms could reach around. Her shoes might distract it if she threw them but without shoes in the apocalypse you may as well be dead anyways. She looked around the room desperately as the looming giant regained its bearings. Then she spotted it, the flattened nail she had used to pick the door, only a few feet to her side. She scrambled for it, and the sudden movement startled her foe into hasty action; he bolted for her as she tried to work her fingers underneath the flat bit of metal. At the last moment, as the beast connected with her she managed it. She was carried into a wall by the large mass and its candy flavored breath hissed out of its sweating jiggling mouth in great gasps of exertion.”Yer not asposed to take my things. I told ronnie dont take my things and he did and you kno what i did?”

“W-what?”

“I eated him” the face split into a devious grin and the very sight brought back the same sensation of panic she had first experienced with full force.

With no thought, other than the instincts of an animal trying not to die she shoved the nail into the disgusting smile in front of her. Her hand fit easily inside the beast's mouth and she used its surprised stupor to rip and shred at anything she could. The unthinking pile of muscle began to howl in pain, allowing her to fit her arm still further down into the grotesque maw. Blood and mucus became great rivers as the weight that kept her pressed against the wall began to slacken. She used her feet to force herself forward, on top of the vile mass. With the leverage of her body weight she sank her arm, and her small implement deep into the creature, eventually the thrashing beneath her stopped. A sick slurping sound accompanied the tangible relief of seeing every inch of her arm come free unscathed from the cooling corpse. She needed to leave. She was glad to be alive but she couldn't be in this place anymore.

 She found her backpack and the mostly smashed food inside quickly and spent a few mildly panicked moments searching for the bottle of bourbon. After a minute though she laughed, realizing she was still clutching it under one arm. One very sore arm. Like the rest of her. “This shit better not be contagious!” she yelled, kicking the thing she feared so much just moments ago. She made her escape unscathed. Unharassed by the multitudinous hordes of the infirm. Her last mile back to camp was peaceful as she began to enjoy her bottle of firewater. “A nail, man!” She laughed to no one. “ a fuckin nail!”