Those words gave him an idea. He didn’t consider whether it would work or not; there was too much he didn’t know. He had to do it and hope for the best.
And that was familiar. His only option used to be hiding in the attic and hoping for the best. This time, at least, he wasn’t alone, and he had a gun. He wished he had time to tell Beth.
“Run, Beth!” he shouted.
She was startled but didn’t argue. The zombies turned their way almost immediately and shambled toward them. Daric’s and Beth’s feet crunched on the glass, and he knew that they never would have made it without being heard anyway. He said a quick prayer in the hope that there were no zombies inside the house, too, but it wasn’t like he could do anything if there were.
The room beyond was a dining room with a wood floor, a big table and chairs. Nothing separated it from the living room beyond. As they ran stumbling through, he caught a fleeting impression of antique furniture and a huge painting. Daric pulled Beth along, looking for the front door. Beth didn’t protest, and that was a relief.
They entered a carpeted hallway with more paintings and family pictures, old black and white photos of severe-looking white people. Ahead and to their left was the front door. To the right was a big staircase, and a doorway that led back into the house. Daric threw himself at the door and tried the handle. Locked! Beth leaned against the wall beside him.
“Why?” she asked, but he was too busy to answer. There were three locks on the door— two on the door itself and one in the knob.
Behind them, not far away, he heard the zombies following them.
At last, he unlocked the door. “Run upstairs when I open the door. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Okay, Daric,” she said, and he opened the door.
He had no idea what to expect, but seeing that creep from the beach with his foot on Sinclair’s body like she was a dead deer or something was too much.
He almost forgot his plan.
The guy seemed as surprised as he was. A tall, attractive blonde woman was standing beside him. Both were laughing, but stopped when they saw Daric framed in the doorway.
It would have been the perfect time to raise his gun and start shooting, but he was too afraid that he’d miss. Instead, he kept to his inner, probably flawed, script and stood there just long enough to see them both run at him. He darted back inside the house. He heard them both shout, but he couldn’t make out what they said. He saw no sign of the zombies yet, but he still had the gun. Took the stairs two at a time. No sign of Beth. He noticed a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, high overhead, crocheted art with sticks on the walls of the landing. Someone’s baby doll was on the top step of the second floor. He scooped it up on the run, and found Beth waiting for him next to an open door.
“I’m coming to get you, little fuck!” came from below, accompanied by loud footsteps on the stairs.
He took Beth’s hand again and pulled her into the bedroom, stopping long enough to kick the door closed behind them and lock it.
They were in the master bedroom. It was flowery with pastel bed coverings, mauve paint on the walls, fake flowers in vases, and a mirror over the bed. Straight ahead were closed doors to a balcony, to the left a closed door to a bathroom, and an open sliding closet door.
Daric had to make a quick decision: hide in the bathroom, balcony, or closet?
“Get under the bed,” he told Beth.
She complied, Daric ran for the closet.
Bare seconds later, someone kicked the door in.
Daric crouched in the closet, the pistol in his right hand, and his left on the door.
“Where are you, little fucker?” the man’s voice asked. He must be standing just inside the room.
“Do we really have to kill the kid, Ray?” the woman’s voice asked. She had a nasal voice, and sounded like she was still in the hall. He needed them both in here. He was going to have to get close with this little gun. Too bad it wasn’t one of those big ones that could shoot through walls. Maybe he could shoot through the door, but what good would that do if he couldn’t see who he was shooting?
“He’s the one who shot me, Cora! I’m killing his ass for that!”
“Ray, did you hear that? I think someone’s downstairs.”
“He ran up here.”
“Doesn’t mean someone couldn’t be down—”
“For fuck’s sake, go check it out then!”
“But I’ve only got one bullet left for my shotgun.”
Daric heard the door to the bathroom open.
“Guess that means you wait for me then, eh, Cora?” Ray asked.
“I hear footsteps on the stairs, Ray!”
“It’s probably just Lou, but be ready. You think that little fuck is hiding under the bed?”
Daric couldn’t wait any longer. He couldn’t let the creep get Beth. He slid the door into the wall, and almost stumbled into the room. His leg was getting stiff, but somehow he kept his feet. Ray was on hands and knees, bent over. One hand lifted the comforter, and Cora was standing close to her husband, facing the door out to the hall. She spun toward Daric and he brought the little gun up and fired three times, the sound surprisingly loud in the enclosed space. He wasn’t sure how many bullets hit her, but she did jerk a little, and fold over as if something invisible had gut-punched her. Her face was gray when she dropped the shotgun and fell to her hands and knees on the carpet. The creep was shouting and was back on his feet. Daric realized that he wasn’t going to be fast enough, but started to swing his gun hand around anyway.
Something crashed into the bedroom door frame. He didn’t bother to look, but Ray did. He froze. Daric heard the zombie moan when it fell on Cora, but forced himself to ignore it and aim at Ray.
Ray looked horrified. His gun was still aimed at Daric, but his gaze was on the woman.
Daric aimed at the guy’s torso. ‘Center mass’ was what he’d heard it called. He squeezed the trigger, took a step, fired again, took a step. He fired until the gun clicked on an empty chamber and locked open.
Ray stayed up for the first five shots, but fell back on the bed for the rest. His gun fell to the carpet. Daric wasn’t sure whether he was dead or alive, but his eyes were closed. He could see small blossoming spots of red all over Ray’s chest.
Beth scuttled out from under the bed and picked the gun up. She had to use both hands, and Daric could tell it was too heavy for her. Her arms were thin, and the thing was huge.
More moans came from the doorway, and Daric turned back to look while backing toward Beth.
A male zombie was on top of Cora, an older white guy in a tennis outfit. One of his arms was mostly bone and sinew. All the meat from the elbow down was shredded. Cora was sprawled facedown with the thing on top of her but wasn’t moving. It chewed on the back of her neck. Another zombie, this one a white teenage female, dropped to her knees beside the old zombie and bit into the back of Cora’s thigh.
Neither of the zombies appeared to notice him or Beth yet.
Daric pulled Beth behind the bed and whispered to her to keep an eye on the zombies while he reloaded his pistol.
“Okay,” she said, “but couldn’t you just use this gun, and we’ll shoot our way out now?”
“Yeah, but what if we run out of bullets for it?”
“I didn’t think of that. Can I use that gun? This one is too big for me. I think I’d only be able to shoot one in the foot.”
Daric almost giggled at that, but controlled himself. “Sure,” he answered, “but just be careful where you point it, okay?”
“I know that! I’m not a child. We’re almost the same age, Daric!”
He had the magazine out and was feeding bullets into it as fast as he could.
“Ewww, this is so gross. Please, let’s get out of here, Daric!”
“Almost done,” he answered. “There, now let’s switch guns.”
The whole bed moved, and the two of them froze. Heavy footsteps started in their direction. Beth whimper
ed. A large, muscular, long-haired zombie stood over them.
Ray was back.
28. Keller
A flock of birds rose in a dark cloud when Mills pulled the fire truck in front of the grocery store’s entrance. The birds’ retreat revealed the remains of twenty or more human carcasses littering the parking lot. Several vehicles were still there also.
The smell was awful, every bit equal to the carnage before them. Blood, viscera, and gleaming bone were all on display, scattered across the pavement. Keller was checking his flashlight when Mills said to Talaski, “One crime scene after another, all over town, eh, Nick?”
Talaski barked a short, bitter-sounding laugh. “That is business as usual, Adam. How many flashlights do we have?”
“I got one,” Mills answered.
“Me too,” Amy said.
“Guess Amy and I will share one until we find more,” Keller said.
“Right!” Amy said. “I’ll light ‘em up, and you mow ‘em down!”
Keller laughed.
“We’ll check the register area and the service desk first if that sounds good to everyone?” Talaski suggested.
“But before that, do you want to try to park this bastard up against the doors?” Mills asked, motioning toward the fire engine.
“I don’t think you can get any closer and still leave us a way in,” Keller said.
“That’s true,” Mills replied. “That means at least one of us needs to stand guard out here.”
“Better to stay in pairs. Why don’t you and I go in, Adam, while Matt and Amy watch the doors and truck?”
Keller shrugged. Amy said, “Looks spooky in there, but I’d like to see what we can get.”
“Guess it’s settled then. Adam and I stand guard, and you two go in and stock up.”
Mills said, “Canned goods are probably the only thing still edible. And some of the produce, like tomatoes.”
Amy smiled,” You’re forgetting lots of stuff. Chips and bread too! We can make sandwiches or something. Chips and salsa. I’m hungry.”
Keller smiled. Amy was such a breath of fresh air. He wished he could have met her long ago, before their world was destroyed. Still, meeting her now would still be sweet if they could find or create somewhere safe to live.
“Here, just in case, take my flashlight,” Talaski said, handing his to Keller.
“Okay, Amy, let’s get a cart and go.”
“Be careful in there!” Talaski called after them.
Keller looked up. Talaski was smiling and giving him a thumbs up. He knew his friend was struggling just as much as he was over allowing Amy to go in. The reality was, though, if this was the way the world was now, then the sooner she gained confidence and learned what to do, the better. Sheltering and babying her was not only impractical, but impossible. Each member of their little tribe needed to contribute.
Amy flicked her flashlight on as they entered through the shattered doors of the store’s vestibule. There were still quite a few shopping carts inside. “Get a good one,” she told him. “Some of them have bad wheels.”
“Good thinking,” he replied. The first one he tried rolled fine, and Amy preceded him into the store. He heard her gasp and didn’t need a flashlight to see why. The light was still good enough and fell far enough inside for them to see dead bodies. Keller stopped a moment, giving the grotesque tableau some thought.
“These people were probably zombies when they were shot. See the bites? Someone searched their bodies afterwards too,” he said, pointing at turned out pockets and personal items scattered here and there beside bodies.
“What would anyone want from them?” Amy asked. “Surely not money. Car keys?”
Keller smiled at her, again. “Exactly! That makes sense.”
“I hope they killed all the zombies in here for us. Think they’re still here?”
“Might be. We need to be careful. I’m sure not everyone who survived is good.”
The little grin she wore faded. “Takes a lot of the fun out of grocery shopping. Still, you’re with me, and we do have guns.”
He had to check, but there was still a twinkle in her eyes.
“These are some good points,” he said, and when he leaned toward her for a kiss, she smiled. Their lips met, and he thought about how good it was. Amy pressed her body against his, and for a moment, both of them unleashed everything they’d held pent up. The kiss stretched out, her hunger every bit a match for his.
“Later,” Keller promised.
“Oh yes, count on it,” she replied, looking at him with such affection that he didn’t want to let her go.
“Sure hope so.” He squeezed her hand. “We better get moving…”
“Okay,” she replied, still smiling.
“Where to first?”
She panned her flashlight around and walked past a table filled with pastries. Many of them were on the floor, but there were several undamaged boxes. “Do you like chocolate chip cookies with frosting?”
“Cookie cakes? Sure, but—”
“We have worse things to worry about that how big our waists are, Mister! We have our first purchase.” She put the big cookie box in the cart. “See, and it even says Happy Birthday! Congratulations!”
“Ha! It’s not my birthday, but okay.”
“It’s a new world. This is our first birthday, together. We can be twenty-five forever now. Who’s gonna keep track of the date?”
“Makes sense.”
He realized that they were making a lot of noise, but figured that it was better to go ahead and alert the zombies and get it over with. If there were bad people, well then, something bad was going to happen anyway.
“Canned goods are next,” Amy said. “You do realize that we could spend hours in here getting everything we need, right? I’m sure there’s a pharmacy.”
Keller hadn’t thought that far yet, but was glad she did.
“We probably should go there first, but food is important,” she added.
She kept the flashlight constantly panning around. They passed a big display of sports drinks. Amy grabbed several six packs in various flavors and added them to the cart.
A lot of cans were on the floor.
“Clean up on aisle four,” he said. He couldn’t tell whether Amy laughed.
“Why don’t you take your flashlight out and stand guard while I load up. I’ll make sure to get plenty of canned meat for you guys.”
“Sounds good,” he said.
He gave her the cart and followed her into the aisle, flashlight in one hand, shotgun in the other.
“What are you humming?” he asked.
“I know it’s weird, but I’m creeped out right now and am trying to pretend that it’s normal for you and I to be grocery shopping in a building full of dead people.”
“Okay, but what song is that?”
“Night Fever, by the Bee Gees. My favorite song if we’re talking about the seventies.”
“Really? I should have recognized it. I love the Bee Gees. Do you sing, or just hum?”
Her eyes were dancing. “I sing, but not unless I’m alone or drunk.”
He laughed. “One stop at the booze aisle coming up!”
“You want me to sing?”
“Why not? How bad could you be?”
She grabbed cans of peas, then some mixed vegetables. “Not so bad, I guess,” she answered. “Do you like tuna?”
“Ah, changing the subject, are we? Yes, I like tuna. The chicken is pretty good, also.”
“You got it.”
“You’re pretty agreeable, do you know that?”
“Well, you are pretty easy on the eyes, you know.”
“Are you flirting with me, ma’am?”
“Not if you call me that!” She wrinkled her nose. “You don’t eat Vienna Sausages, do you?”
“If I said yes, would it be a deal breaker?”
A clatter came from the back of the store. Both of them stood still, listening, flashlights playing each
way down the aisle. Keller took a step toward the noise and whispered, “I’d better check it out. Someone’s in here.”
“I’m coming with you,” Amy whispered back. “If there’s a lot of them, we run, right?”
“Yeah,” he answered.
Another crash came from the back of the store—this one sounding like a whole display of cans falling.
“We could just go,” she said, “and I’ll still respect you.”
“Hush, and stick close to me.”
A can rolled across the aisle from the right and came to a stop against the counter’s end on their left. Looked like a Campbell’s Soup can. Amy’s flashlight followed its progress.
Something made a grunting noise as Keller edged around the corner and looked right. Two zombies were stumbling through the cans, one of them on hands and knees. The one on its feet was a mixed race guy of about twenty, with a chunk of his cheek missing and a big hole in his chest. The one on the ground was a wiry, teenaged, Middle-Eastern girl missing her right hand, and most of her nose.
Keller raised the shotgun smoothly to his shoulder, put the barrel almost in the face of the guy, and squeezed the trigger. The blast was loud, and the nearly headless corpse fell to the tiled floor.
Before he could switch targets, Amy stepped up beside him and squeezed off a shot of her own. The female zombie slumped to the floor
“Nice shot,” he remarked.
“What do we do when we run out of bullets? We better find some back-up weapons soon. I think I’d want a bat or something. Stabbing people is icky.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“Are you laughing at me? I’m serious.”
“No, stabbing someone, undead cannibal or not, is up close and personal. Just try to remind yourself that you’ll be one of them if they bite you.”
“I remember. Think there are more of them? Should we go check, or keep shopping?”
“I say we finish shopping. Nick and Adam will be wondering about the gunfire, so be careful if you hear someone coming.”
“Let’s grab some of those canned hams and some soups, and move on then.”
He looked down at the bloody mess at their feet. “Not this soup.”
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