Vaccination - 01

by Phillip Tomasso

  I saw it in her eyes. She had no idea what I was trying to communicate. None. I gave her some credit. What I did with my hand resembled bad charades. I kept at it. I used two hands to wave her in on my left side, and then shook my head, NO. On the right side of my body, I did it again with my hands, and nodded vigorously, YES.

  She nodded. Thank God. She moved to the other side of the Pagoda, and then found me with her eyes. I looked all around, thought it was safe, and nodded with a simple wave of my hand.

  Staying low, she ran toward me, and was about to kneel next to me.

  The plan forgotten.

  “Keep going, to the next area,” I whispered. “Go, go.”

  Allison looked toward Burlington. I know she saw the zombies inside, because her eyes opened wider.

  “Go,” I said. “Stop behind the next kiosk.”

  She ran. I watched. I tried to see everything at once. When Allison stopped, sat, rested her back against the wristwatch kiosk, I inhaled deeply, and sighed silently. When she waved me to her, I shook my head. She had not scanned the area for zombies at all.

  This was not going to be simple.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Somehow we’d managed to leapfrog our way from the Pagoda kiosk to a center aisle kiosk that sold electric cigarette kits. This time, instead of running past Allison, I stopped and dropped beside her.

  We both were breathing heavy. Sweat rolled down her forehead. She wiped it from her brow with a forearm. “I’m not sure how much more I can do,” she said.

  “We’re there. Security is just around the corner. Once we get into their office, we’re bound to find weapons. At least keys to one of their patrol vehicles.” I knelt, ready to make a break for it.

  “It’s not what I mean,” she said. “I’m not sure how much more of this I can do. Running. Hiding.”

  I shook my head. “So what? You’re going to give up? Just sit here and wait for one of those things—or a group of them—to find you? You saw them take down that guy in the parking lot, the people at work. You don’t have much of a choice. We’re going to arm ourselves and get out of here.”

  She almost laughed, the smile faltered. “And get your kids and go to Mexico. Mexico. Chase, do you realize how crazy that sounds? How impossible?”

  I heard moaning. Groaning. We were not alone. Not like we had been for most of our excursion from one end of the mall to its center. Made sense the food court might be more dangerous. The smells. Probably drew them from all corners, like flies to shit.

  “The alternative is giving up, Alley. Surrendering. I’m not going to do that. I can’t. You can’t either.”

  “Because of your kids. I understand that. You have to keep going, keep moving. But not me,” she said.

  “I’m not leaving you here. You’ll die. It’ll be a horrible death, Alley. Painful. If we end up going that way, then we go that way. You aren’t giving up this easy. Not now. Not while we have options. I won’t let you,” I said.

  I watched her lip tremble. Tears pooled in her eyes. “When I say run, we’re running. Together. I’m not leaving you here. Got it?”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  Had she disagreed, giving me any more problems, I would have left her. She just didn’t realize it. If she couldn’t toughen up, she was going to find herself on her own. She might think she’s tired, ready to quit. Once death faced her, I bet she’d run in the opposite direction screaming. No one gave in, gave up that easily when actually in front of death. No one. It went against natural instinct to survive.

  “On three,” I said, smiling. “We got this, okay?”

  “On three.” She knelt beside me.

  I held a hand up, scanned as much of the mall as I could see. “I don’t see anything.”

  “I hear them.”

  I nodded. “I have a feeling when we round that corner; they’re going to be there.”

  “So the plan?”

  “We run past the Burger King, toward the restrooms, and here’s the thing – we try the security office door. If it’s unlocked, we can get in; lock ourselves inside if we’re chased.”

  “Is that a good idea? Locking ourselves in there?”

  “That’s if we’re being chased, and it’s unlocked. Otherwise, we get in, grab what we can. Flashlights, radios, weapons, and keys. That’s the main thing, keys.”

  “And if it’s locked and we’re being chased?”

  “Fire exit doors are right there. We just go out and keep running until we’re not being chased anymore. Got it?”

  “On three,” she said, again.

  “Yes. On three.” We counted together.

  On three, we stood and ran.

  We passed the Cookie Place, and Burger King, ran down the short hallway that led to both the restrooms on the right and stopped at the security door across from them. We did not need to turn to see that zombies ensued. Lots of them. Thankfully, slow runners. About the only break we’ve had so far.

  I grabbed the knob and twisted. The door opened. Second break. We entered the postage-stamp sized office and closed the door, and squatted down. The room was mostly windows. If the things didn’t see us enter, they didn’t need to know where we were. From the floor, I scanned the room. A radio charging base was on the counter. Three of the five radios were missing. Two were left, and hopefully, were fully charged.

  “Flashlight,” Allison said.

  I followed her line of sight. It was long, looked solid, like it might be filled with six D batteries. It could serve two purposes. Light, and as a weapon.

  Staying low, I tugged on cabinet drawers. They were all locked. I didn’t see guns anywhere. Which made sense. Now. The guards probably had to supply their own weapons. The mall wasn’t going to stockpile an armory. I shook my head, discouraged.

  “Help me find keys.”

  “What kind?”

  “Keys. Any kind,” I said. “You take the flashlight.”

  She carefully reached up and took it off the counter. “It’s heavy.”

  “You can use it to bash a zombie’s skull, okay?”

  She nodded. “The radios?”

  “We’re taking those, too. But right now, keys.”

  Checking anywhere that wasn’t locked inside a drawer, we came up empty. No keys. That was a strike. I really wanted a vehicle. I had to kneel to reach the radio charger. As I removed the two radios, I chanced a look at the windows and almost vomited.

  They’d been quiet. Maybe just watching us. Like they were at a zoo, and we were animals in a display. At least ten zombies, hands and faces pressed against the glass. Bile and blood and filth scummed up the windows.

  “Okay,” I said, sitting on the floor next to Allison, our backs pressed against the door. “We’re kinda screwed.”

  “Why? What?” She said. “They’re all out there, aren’t they?”

  I nodded.

  “A lot?”

  “A lot.”

  Allison turned on one of the radios. It squawked. Chirped. Then static hissed through the tiny speaker. She depressed the button on the side. “Hello, anyone? Hello?”

  When she released the button, more static. She spun the top knob, switching channels and repeated her greeting.

  “Maybe they’re short wave. Reach out only a mile or so?” I said.

  “What do we do, I mean, how are we going to get out of this room. It feels like a coffin now.”

  It did feel like a coffin. I felt claustrophobic. Tried to control my breathing. Unless these things got bored, we were literally trapped. Stuck in place. Making a run for it would never work. There were too many. And they held the advantage being on the opposite side of the door.

  A loud bang sound. Not like a gunshot, but as if something crashed, fell over. I snuck a peak, kneeling. “Well, that got their attention,” I said, sliding back beside Allison.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “The things, they all looked to see what the commotion was, too. Some even wandered toward the sound.”
<
br />   Alley smiled. “They did?”

  “Don’t get all happy. A few left. The rest--they’re still right outside this office.”

  “Nah. I got an idea. Watch this.” Allison crawled toward the counter, reached up and came back with a microphone on a stand. She held down the button on the base, and started shouting. Her voice echoed throughout speakers hung in the mall. “Anything?”

  I looked at the window. “You’ve got their attention. Thing is, there’s a speaker right outside here. Think there’s a way to isolate what part of the mall gets the transmission?”

  “The switchboard?”

  I went to where she had retrieved the microphone. The small switchboard had levers that were labeled. There were stores, and sections--north, south, west, and east. This might work, I realized. J.C. Penny was the biggest store, opposite the food court. I toggled the switch, and nodded at Allison.

  When she yelled, it was too loud. The creatures outside the security office banged on the glass, and walls. “A little softer,” I said. The things weren’t going to investigate noise far away, when she made enough noise to hold their interest right here.

  Allison turned her back, hovered over the microphone, and tried again. It was perfect. While I heard her voice out in the mall, I barely heard her, and I sat right next to her. I looked at the switchboard, and found the volume knob. I turned it up. “Keep going,” I said.

  I turned to look at our visitors. Most were gone. Not all. But most. I tried not to make any eye contact. I felt like that might engage them. I don’t know if that mattered, or if they just smelled our life. I wanted to do as little as possible to have them attracted to us. Right now, avoiding eye contact was about all I could think to stop.

  “They leaving?” Allison said.

  “Yeah. Don’t stop.” I closed my eyes. Kept them shut and didn’t move at all. I tried to control my breathing, taking slow shallow breaths. Inside my head, I counted to sixty. When I opened my eyes, they were gone. The remaining few zombies had left. “I think we’re clear. Don’t stop. Not yet.”

  I chanced a look. The last of the zombies left the area, entering the food court, a compound fracture at the ankle left the foot dragging behind with each pull of its leg.

  We had the two radios, the flashlight, my hockey stick, but no keys. No guns. It was not what I had hoped for, but it was what it was. We’d have to make the best of it. Staying inside the security office was the worst thing we could do. The mall was clearly not a safe haven. Running outside the emergency exits might not prove any better, or safer. And yet, that was our only choice. Making a run for it.

  “We’re going to do this. As soon as you stop transmitting, we’re going to bolt for the exit and just keep running. Okay?”

  She nodded, but never stopped talking into the microphone.

  I gave her a three count. I knew she liked them, and then she stood. I stood, and pulled open the office door. I tried to be quiet about it. We didn’t seem to gain any attention. We rounded the office. The emergency exit was a mere twenty feet away. Just had to run past the restrooms.

  I ran, hit the bar across the door and pushed it open. Lights flashed. Sirens blared, and above it all, I heard Allison scream.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I stood at the threshold. One foot out of the mall, one inside. The cool night air was a blast of refreshment after working up a sweat traipsing through the mall like S.W.A.T. and then being trapped inside the tiny security office for the last hour.

  One of the things had come out of the bathroom. It had Allison by the arm. She struggled against its hold. Squirming, and wriggling her body trying to pull free.

  This one was a mess. Over three hundred pounds, it appeared he must have turned while on the toilet. His khaki trousers were down around his ankles. Decaying white legs were mixed with hair, throbbing veins, and puss oozing from open wounds around his thighs. His Canary yellow dress shirt was buttoned as if a blind man had assisted. The mismatch of buttons to holes made the front tails lopsided around a pair of whitey-tighties that looked so tight they had to be cutting of blood supply to the creature’s brain -- if blood still flowed through its bulbous body.

  “Allison!”

  She stopped struggling. Must have realized what I was about to say. Before I could yell, she swung a backhand. The handle of the flashlight cracked square against the bridge of the zombie’s nose. Perhaps it was the pants tangled around its feet, but stumbling back a step, the fat monster lost his balance and went down, backward. Hard. Its head smashed into tile. Blood sprayed from underneath.

  It hadn’t let go of Allison, pulling her down as well. She was able to wretch her harm free. Back on her feet, she delivered a kick into the fallen zombie’s exposed gut. Then another. And despite the other zombies now drawn to the excitement down the corridor, and our window for escape narrowing, she dropped to her knees by its head and beat its skull with the butt of her flashlight until blood coated the metal and it slipped from her hands. Crying, one forearm pressed to her face, Allison picked up her weapon and pushed off the ground to stand back up.

  “Allison, we need to go.” I held out my hand.

  She looked down at the man she’d killed. Only it wasn’t a man. Not at all.

  “Allison,” I said.

  Blood smeared tears stained her cheeks. She huffed, gaining control, and walked toward me. It was a big moment for her, a life altering one. The converging zombies were close, getting closer. “We need to . . . run. Now.”

  She chanced a look back, saw what I saw, and snapped out of whatever mode she was stuck in. She ran. I pushed open the door, and we were outside in a heartbeat.

  Headlights shined in our eyes. The sound of a motor running. We stopped as the door closed behind us. There was nothing to block it with. The zombies could exit the mall as easily as we did.

  “Who’s in the truck?” I yelled. “We just want to get somewhere safe!”

  No one answered.

  Allison and I circled around the vehicle. She went toward the passenger side. I went around to the driver’s. No one was inside the pickup truck.

  “Get in,” I said just as the emergency door opened and out came a flock of slow moving zombies. “Get in, Allison!”

  “It’s locked,” she shouted, as I opened the driver-side door. I looked around for the button to unlock the doors, checking the inside panel. I couldn’t find any.

  “Chase!”

  I leaned across the seat, grabbed the handle and pushed open the passenger door. Allison scrambled in, slamming the door closed before any of the zombies reached her. “Too close,” she said.

  I sat up, set my foot on the break, and shifted it into reverse.

  “You should plow right into them,” Allison suggested.

  Instead, I checked the mirror, looked behind me and backed up. There wasn’t time to run over zombies that weren’t able to harm us. This wasn’t a search and destroy mission. The goal was getting to my kids. Same as it has been all night.

  I spun the wheel and floored it, heading toward the exit onto West Ridge Road; thankfully the parking lot was mostly empty. I only needed to swerve around a Prius and a Beamer. The rest of the road was clear.

  The streetlights were on, flashing reds and yellows. Power issues, no doubt. There would be no one to fix them. They would stay that way until the city lost juice and Rochester was drowned in darkness. My guess, it wouldn’t be long. Not with no one manning the utility companies.

  That thought forced me to realize the apocalypse in full. No electricity. Water and food supplies would be an issue. Maybe. There had been so few . . . survivors that Allison and I had encountered so far, that grocery stores would be ours for the taking. Possibly. Hopefully.

  At the intersection, I made a right heading eastbound on West Ridge Road in the westbound lane where less disabled cars cluttered the street.

  Still had to swerve back and forth, and onto the median at times, but for the most part, we were moving, and making good time.
Finally.

  At the flashing lights, I turned left onto Stone Road. I lived in the apartment complex on the right, but decided against stopping home. I didn’t want to waste any more time. Too much had already lapsed. I needed to get to my kids. Last time I’d checked my phone, there was nothing from my daughter. That made me more than apprehensive.

  Allison silently looked at me as we flew past the complex. She must have known what I was thinking, too. As we came upon the Ridge Road Fire Department, two men ran into the middle of the street. Both waved an arm and a baseball bat in the air, as if they thought we were going to stop.

  I dropped my foot on the accelerator.

  “What are you doing?” Allison screamed.

  “They have weapons!”

  “We have weapons.”

  They jumped to the left and the right out of the street as I blew past them.

  “Chase, they’re human. They need help.”

  I wanted to argue. Instead, I thought of the man in the mall parking lot. He died so we could raid the stores. Despite coming up empty handed for the most part, he’d been eaten for us. I remember how that made me feel.

  My feet punched the brake. Tires squealed. Couldn’t see it in the darkness, but knew black rubber was laid down over the pavement. Could smell the burn.

  I checked the rear-view mirror.

  Both men ran at the security truck. I’d have left them had I assumed it was aggressive. The horde of fast zombies behind them, gaining on them, told me otherwise. I laid on the horn. The sound blared like a goose in heat.

  They didn’t need the warning. They seemed to realize they were being pursued. They, together, reached the rear of the truck and jumped over the tailgate. I didn’t wait to make sure they were all set, before flooring it. More squealing. More rubber laid down. And we were out of there.

  Allison looked over her shoulder, slid the small window between us open. “You all right?”

  “Oh my, God, thank you. Thank you for stopping.”