Chest heaving, she took stock of her surroundings, making sure there would be no surprises, and when she was sure her area was clear, she moved over to the other side so she could get a better view of the escalators.
The zombies had managed to traverse about two-thirds of the stairs, and Troy was just toppling a large shelf over the top rack. It bounced off of a few ghouls and flattened a few more, skidding to a stop about three-quarters of the way down.
Grace reached up and wiggled the shelf she stood behind, finding it flimsy and not bolted down. She took a deep breath and then let out a sharp whistle.
As soon as a pack of zombies came running her way, she disappeared behind the shelf, and then gave it a shove, clambering up onto a foothold and holding on. The unit toppled forward, her body weight on top of it as it flattened a few bodies.
She ran forward, light on her feet, keeping the unit pinning the ghouls beneath her. Two that were just out of the way when it fell lunged for her, and she stabbed one, using it as a battering ram to shove the other back. As it fell beneath its friend, she jumped down and stabbed it through the eye before whipping around to deal with the pinned zombies.
One head stuck out from beneath the shelf, so she got rid of it fast, but the others were writhing arms and legs, so she left them for the moment. A few more ghouls were hot on her tail, so she took off to dive behind another bookshelf. These deeper for full novels instead of magazines, running down one aisle, ducked down to stay out of sight.
Troy banged his crowbar again, yelling and whooping, hopefully drawing the bulk of the ghouls back towards him. She wasn’t sure how Hawk was faring, but she had to trust that he was pulling his weight. They needed to be a team here.
Footsteps echoed behind her and she whipped around, bringing her crowbar down on top of a zombie skull. It stumbled, and she smacked it again, cracking it this time, and as the corpse fell, another launched at her from right behind it. She kicked it in the chest, sending it back away from her, and then stabbed forward, killing it with an eye shot.
When she emerged from the other side of the shelf, Troy was just sending another shoe rack downrange, and it flattened a few more ghouls on the stairs on the left side. Grace crept along behind another bookshelf, and then soundlessly darted out to the back of the far left of the horde.
She stabbed one in the very back and then jumped back. Troy’s voice was growing hoarse, but still loud enough to hold their attention and drown out the sound of falling bodies, so she lunged forward for another, picking off the zombies at the back.
By the makeup counter, Hawk leapt over a pile of bodies he’d amassed in front of it, and crept quietly behind the horde on the right side. Between him and Grace, they began to fell corpses, and Troy upped his noise game to keep them as focused on him as he could.
“Yeah, fuck you, fuck you, and especially fuck you!” he bellowed, brandishing a metal post from one of the racks as well as his crowbar. He started to play a drum beat on one of the racks, and although he didn’t have much rhythm, it was loud and did the trick.
A zombie spun around and threw itself at Grace, and she instinctively ducked, sending it tripping over her and flopping to the floor. She dove to the side in case any of its friends decided to join it and then circled around to stab it before it could get up.
Before long, Hawk and Grace had taken care of all of the standing zombies, leaving only the ones crushed by racks and shelves.
“Hang tight up there,” she called to Troy, who gave her a little salute. “I need help with the magazine rack,” she said to Hawk, motioning back towards the ghouls trying to slither out from beneath her fallen shelf.
“Nice one,” Hawk commended, and they strolled over to the rack, still running on adrenaline. One ghoul had managed to wriggle its way half out, and he dispatched it before kicking a leg sticking out beside it. “I pull, you stab?” he asked, and Grace nodded.
He wrapped his hands around the flailing ankles and jerked, pulling the zombie clear. Grace stabbed it quickly, and then they turned back to the escalator, where a few pissed-off ghouls thrashed, tangled up in equipment.
“Think it’s safer to disentangle them, or climb up and stab through the racks?” Grace asked, and Hawk shrugged.
“Either or is plenty unsafe,” he replied, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
This was life, now.
She nodded and moved forward, climbing up onto the center median and shimmying up the escalator. She jabbed a few times through metal posts and clothes hangers, eventually catching the last animated zombie in the skull, ending the threat.
Or at least, the immediate threat of the department store.
“That went a lot better than I thought it was gonna,” Troy called from the top, pressing a hand to his forehead.
Grace nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Me too,” she admitted. She slid down the median and hit the floor, waving for Hawk to follow her to the elevator. “Let’s do a sweep and go back upstairs,” she instructed, pulling the walkie-talkie from her pocket. “Job isn’t over yet.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Department store is secure,” Grace said into the radio as she and Hawk stepped out of the elevator.
There was a moment of silence before No Name came back, “Good. We have some fenangling to do.”
“Fenangling?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The guitar is still going, and we need those zombies to come to the department store side,” he explained. “So we’re going to cut the power to that end of the mall, and when it stops you can draw them all to your end so we can shoot them from the access panels.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay,” she replied. “And what about the zombies on the bottom floor?”
“We’ll mop those up after we deal with the second floor,” No Name replied.
“And go and get Eddie and Leo, right?” Grace asked firmly. “They’re probably pretty pinned down over there.”
“Yes, once we finish off the ones you can draw to you, we’ll come in and take care of whatever is left on their end,” No Name said.
She nodded. “Okay, we’ll cause a ruckus over here, just make sure your guys are ready.”
“Done,” came the reply, and then she shoved the walkie-talkie back in her pocket, leaving the volume up in case he needed to get back to her.
Hawk swiped his palms together and slicked his sweaty hair back, having slid his crowbar into his belt loop once again. “Being stuck in the cafe was nicer, at least we had coffee,” he said.
“You guys got coffee?” Troy asked, throwing his hands up. “I miss all the best shit.”
“It was really good coffee, too,” Grace teased. “Freshly brewed dark roast.”
“Stop, girl, you’re making my mouth water,” Troy replied, waving her off as they headed for the doors.
She sighed. “I mean, I would much rather go for a latte, but it is what it is,” she said wistfully.
“Triple-shot mochaccino,” Troy moaned, licking his lips.
Hawk rolled his eyes. “Listen to you both with your hipster drinks,” he drawled. “Black coffee, strong as hell, that’s all you need.”
“Pumpkin spice with almond milk, extra foamy,” Grace continued, ignoring him.
“Short espresso with whipped cream on top,” Troy added.
She nodded emphatically. “Yeah, what’s that called, a con panna?” she asked, pointing at him. “So good!”
“Disgusting,” Hawk muttered.
As they reached the doors, enjoying their tiny bit of levity in a terrible situation, they could hear the guitar muffled in the distance.
“I don’t know if that’s Eddie or Leo, but their fingers must be bleeding by now,” Troy said.
Hawk shook his head. “Nah, that’s some pro playing there. If they’re that good, they’ve got calluses on their fingers the size of this mall,” he pointed out.
All of a sudden, the music stopped, and the lights down the hallway went out.
“M
ake some noise,” No Name’s voice came through the radio, and the trio nodded at each other.
“Makes sense to open the doors and yell until they get close enough, right?” Grace asked, and though the others looked reluctant to break their safe barrier, they knew she was right.
Troy put a hand. “Let’s all do one set, though, just in case,” he suggested.
“Good call,” Hawk agreed, and they moved to the right set of double doors. “You take one, I’ll take the other, and Grace you’re on locking duty?”
She nodded and knelt down, pulling up the deadbolts from the floor. “Ready,” she said, and they pushed open the doors.
The boys began to holler, and Grace pulled her lip between her teeth, letting out one of her sharp whistles. She could see a square of light on the floor with a silhouette in it and assumed it was one of the mercenaries up top at an access panel. Another square of light appeared next to it, and a second silhouette, which was comforting. At least they were there, ready. She just hoped the plan would work.
Soon, the footsteps thundered towards them, and they could see a horde tearing up the balcony towards the doors. They hollered until the zombies reached the sporting goods store, and then Hawk and Troy pulled the doors closed, and Grace locked them tightly. She grabbed the radio.
“Get ready!” she barked into it, but the guys up top had already opened fire.
Bullets sprayed the horde in full automatic fire, peppering their bodies into swiss cheese. Those that didn’t get hit in the head still fell backwards from the momentum of the shots, and the horde began to fall, bodies piling up and causing the ones behind to trip in a stumbling mass of death.
“Is that...?” Grace asked, squinting, staring out at a particular zombie flopping and twitching just on the other side of the doors.
“It’s Joseph,” Hawk replied, shaking his head.
She wanted to say he shouldn’t have run, but it didn’t need to be said. They’d lost three today, and hopefully they wouldn’t lose a fourth. Or a fifth. Or a sixth…
It didn’t take long for the mercenaries to plow through the mass of corpses, and soon there was nothing left but limp, bullet-ridden bodies in a heap.
“If they have this much ammo, why do they insist on sending us into buildings with crowbars?” Troy snapped, throwing his hands up. “This is fucking absurd!”
Grace shook her head. There was no time for this type of thinking. They had to get through this job.
“It’s a power trip,” Hawk said, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. “That’s all it is.”
Grace lifted the radio to her lips. “Looks good, what now?” she asked.
“We’re going to come in from one of the roof access stairwells and go clean up wherever the decoy team is,” No Name replied. “I’ll need you three to come out and watch the escalator, make sure nothing is making its way up from the bottom floor.”
She nodded. “Got it,” she said, and pocketed the radio again. “Crowbars ready,” she instructed. “I don’t trust that all of these things are all dead.”
Hawk opened the door, weapon tightly in hand, and they carefully picked over the mountain of corpses, making sure nothing was still moving or moaning. Troy found one, stabbing it despite it being pinned by a ton of its brethren, but the rest were all still.
The trio converged at the top of the escalator, and there were a few ghouls milling about at the bottom, but no other corpses to be seen from their vantage point. As gunfire echoed at the far end of the mall, Grace assumed the ones on the bottom floor were probably hanging out over there.
“So, we just wait?” Troy asked. “I like this.”
Hawk rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too comfortable.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As Eddie continued to shred the guitar, playing a crunchy rendition of one of his favourite classic rock tunes, two things happened at once.
One, the power went out, killing his wicked solo, and the second was the distinct sound of shattering glass.
“Stay clear of the door!” he yelled, assuming that the glass breaking was the door window. The louder moans and snarls solidified this theory.
“I can’t see the door!” Leo cried from somewhere behind him.
“Then stay away from the sounds!” Eddie called back, frantically scrambling for his crowbar. He didn’t think any of the zombies could get in, especially through an opening so high off of the ground, but he didn’t want to take chances. He needed to kill as many as he could to plug the hole in the door.
“What are you doing?!” Leo yelled as Eddie dropped the guitar with a crash.
“I need to kill enough of these fuckers to barricade the door!” he called back.
“But how can you see what you’re killing?!” came the shrill question. “If you get bit and turn into one of those things, I’m boned!”
Yeah, only you’d be boned, Eddie thought bitterly, but chose not to argue. His hand finally clasped around the crowbar, and he stood up, listening hard, willing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. But there was no adjusting to this. If the power was out, then the only light in the mall was from the sparse skylights in the center over the main walkway, not close to this store. Between the shadow of the deep store, and the horde of zombies blocking the door, it was completely devoid of sight in there.
He strained his ears as he moved, and then tripped over one of the fallen drums, cursing as he fell to his knees. However, it gave him an idea, and he picked up what felt like a snare drum on a stand. He grabbed the metal base and then held it straight out in front of him, testing the darkness.
It finally hit the wall, and didn’t move, which meant he wasn’t poking the door. He moved to the left, where he could hear the moans, and finally slid the drum over the seam of the doorframe. Something grabbed onto the side of the drum, and it vibrated as hands smacked into it.
He shoved it over a little more, lowering it until it felt like the ghouls were pushing down on it, instead of the side. He braced his torso into the bottom of the stand and readied his crowbar.
Do I go with a swing or a jab? Eddie thought and then shook his head. Probably a jab would be best, hoping he hit a head.
“What are you doing?” Leo asked, closer now. “Don’t get bit, man.”
“Shut up, I’m concentrating,” Eddie muttered, and then froze at the sound of muffled gunfire. “What the hell?”
Zombies shrieked from outside, and some pulled away from the window, casting a tiny bit of light on the situation. Eddie stepped back, lowering the drum. The gunfire was louder now that the window wasn’t full of rotted flesh, and he moved out of the way to avoid catching a stray bullet.
“Looks like the cavalry has arrived,” he muttered, and if he were being honest, he hadn’t expected it. He’d been certain that the QXR were going to leave him and Leo in this room to die. Hell, maybe they still would, and were just clearing out the last of the zombies.
When the window was clear and the shots ceased, he carefully moved into the center of the room to peer out through the darkness.
“You alive in there?” somebody barked.
Eddie’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Yeah, we’re alive,” he called. “Can we come out now?”
“Come on out,” the man replied, “slowly.”
“Slowly?” he muttered under his breath. “Like we’re robbing a bank or something.”
Leo grabbed his arm. “I can’t go out there,” he hissed.
“What?” Eddie replied, shaking his head. “We have to go out there. We don’t have anywhere else to go, man.”
The man shook his head rapidly. “I can’t.”
“Why the hell not? I know it sucks man, but we’ve got to go back to our cells now,” Eddie said. “Grab some food, get some sleep, and then do all this shit again tomorrow.”
Leo blinked rapidly, and then rolled up the sleeve of his plaid shirt, revealing a crimson bite in his forearm.
“What the fuck?!” Eddie blurted, eyes narrowing. “Yo
u had that this whole time? When the hell were you going to tell me? And you were all pissed about me getting too close to the door, why?”
“It happened when that thing had me in the drums,” Leo hissed.
“Get out here!” the mercenary outside bellowed. “We’ve got shit to do!”
“Stay in here, then,” Eddie replied. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”
His partner shook his head rapidly. “They’re going to kill me!”
“You’re going to die anyway,” Eddie shot back, and though his chest tightened in a mixture of sympathy and pity, he didn’t know what he could possibly do about this situation. “It’s your choice whether you want to die slowly in here, alone, or quick from a bullet. I can’t make that choice for you, and I don’t know what else you want me to say. I’m not going to stay in here and get eaten.”
Leo backed away from him, shaking. “Just tell them I’m already dead.”
“And risk them finding out I lied?” Eddie shook his head. “You know I can’t do that, man. I know it sucks, but you have to own up to this.”
His partner crossed his arms. “I’m not going out there.”
“Hey!” the mercenary yelled, all semblance of patience gone.
Eddie shrugged and headed for the door, opening it slowly. He raised his hands, still holding his crowbar, and moved out into the store. Three mercenaries stood by the entrance, guns trained on him.
“Where’s the other guy?” one of them asked.
Eddie glanced over his shoulder, not seeing Leo following him. “He doesn’t want to come out,” he replied.
“Does he need us to drag him out?” the mercenary snarled. “You ain’t gonna like that, boy!”
For a second, Eddie wished that Leo was closer to death, so he could send these assholes into the room for a nasty surprise. But he shook it off. Nothing about this situation was good. He didn’t want an innocent man to die because of these guys. He didn’t want to be complicit in outing him for being bit. But the fact of the matter was, if they left him there, he was a danger to other innocents that would potentially be inhabiting this mall.
Dead America: Lowcountry | Book 5 | Lowcountry [Part 5] Page 5