"Firearms are a last resort," Mark said.
Jen double-checked her pistol and stuck it in her belt, then pulled the magazine out of the rifle. Full. She slid the bolt back enough to see the chambered round. Ready.
Her heart rate picked up and she rubbed her sweaty palms on her pants. Every encounter with zombies had given them something new to deal with. What the hell will this one bring?
"Here we go." Grant slipped over the tracks and down into the parking lot. Jen followed and joined him behind a shiny new Chevy pickup. Doc slid in next to her, with Mark bringing up the rear.
Grant crept forward to the edge of the truck. Jen peeked over the truck bed. The closest zombies she saw were at least thirty yards away. What about the ones I can't see?
Grant ducked and ran past two more vehicles and stopped beside a monster RV. Damn thing was bigger than some houses. He signaled Jen to follow.
She sprinted for the RV, her eyes on Grant as he moved to the front of it. Panting, she took a knee behind the rear of the vehicle. She shouldn't have been so winded from such a short run. Must be adrenaline. Or fear.
She waited for Grant to signal an all clear, then waved Doc in, and then Mark. They gathered at Grant's position.
"So far, so good," Doc said.
Grant pointed down the line of RVs. "It's clear ahead and we have cover to the sides."
He stood and walked between the lines of RVs. Jen followed, but moved cautiously, checking underneath the vehicles and in the small gaps between them. It'd been too easy so far, just like in the hardware store, and that had gone to shit.
She reached the end of the lines of RVs and took a deep breath. Her mouth had gone dry and her gut ached. How do soldiers in combat do this time after time?
Grant turned back to the others. "There's a group of a dozen zekes about two hundred yards to the right and another twenty about twice that distance to the left."
"Zekes?" Jen scrunched her nose. "This isn't a damn video game. Next thing you know, you'll be talking about distances in clicks."
Grant ignored her. "The recruiter vehicles are almost straight ahead, just to the right."
Jen edged to the end of the RV and peered left and right.
"What the hell are you doing?" Grant asked, raising his voice.
Jen turned to him and put a finger to her lips. "Keep it down. I was just taking a look for myself, no need to come unglued."
"You don't trust my judgment?" Grant stuck his chin out.
"Enough." Mark got between them. "We don't have to like each other, but we need to cooperate to survive."
Grant pushed on Mark's chest. "I don't need you to—"
Mark grabbed Grant's hand and put it in a lock. The specialist's eyes got big. "Don't," he said.
"Doesn't hurt yet, does it?" Mark asked. "But you can feel the tension in the joint."
Grant nodded.
"We've got a problem," Doc said.
Jen looked in the direction he pointed. A zombie stood in the doorway of an RV two vehicles back.
Mark let go of Grant. The zombie shuffled out of the RV and wandered in the other direction. Jen started to breathe again. That was close.
Mark's stiff posture loosened, and even Doc looked relieved. The experience was testing his chill factor.
The zombie reached the end of the RVs and stopped. It wandered to the vehicle across from it, then turned toward them.
Oh, shit.
It walked closer, then turned again.
If we get out of this, I'll never call myself unlucky again.
The zombie stopped cold. Its head cocked as if listening for something. Doc's eyes watered and he held his mouth closed tightly. What the hell was wrong with him?
He sniffed, then sniffed again and put his face in the crook of his elbow before letting out a quiet snort. He's trying to hold in a sneeze. Are you shitting me?
The zombie turned around and its yellow eyes locked on Doc. It faced the sky and let out a screech.
Answering calls came from across the parking lot, some distant and others much closer.
"We need to go back," Grant said. "I can take out this one."
Jen grabbed his arm. "No, we go forward. To the mall. We go back with them all chasing us and there's no place to hide."
"I say we go back," Grant yelled.
Jen and Mark exchanged a glance. "Oh, no, not again," Mark said.
Jen spun and sprinted for the mall door.
15
The screeching grew louder, almost an angry roar, as she ran from behind the cover. A group of about thirty zombies on her left were in a full run, heading for her. She glanced to her right. Another dozen ran at her from that side. She did a double take. Two of the zombies, both younger men, had broken off from the group and streaked toward the mall door. What the hell? If I didn't know better, I'd say they're trying to cut me off.
She didn't dare look behind her to see if the others were coming. If they weren't, then at the very least she'd distracted the zombies so they could get away. Either way, she had to get through that door.
She passed an old SUV and a zombie slammed against the window from the inside, startling the shit out of her. It slowed her for a second. Damn. She needed all the time she could get.
Most of the zombies changed direction and headed behind her. That meant someone else followed her. Good old Mark.
Coming to the end of the parking row, Jen checked the zombies on her left. They'd closed the distance on her, but she'd still make it to the door before them. Barely.
She made sure there were no obstacles in front of her as she ran, then glanced behind her. Doc was only ten feet back, followed by Mark, with Grant taking up the rear. The zombies from the right side had nearly caught up with him, but he must've sensed it because he kicked in the afterburners and ran side by side with Mark.
Jen dashed up the steps at full speed, slammed into one of the double doors, and bounced off. Huffing, she grabbed the door handle and pulled.
Dammit!
It didn't move. She jerked on it again and again, but it didn't change the fact the damn thing was locked. She shaded her eyes with her hand and pressed her face to the window. If anyone was there...
Doc clomped up the stairs. "Don't tell me it's locked."
Jen pulled on the handle again. "Won't budge."
"What about the other door?"
"What?"
He grabbed the handle of the other door and pulled it open. Shit. Jen pushed him inside and held the door open for Mark and Grant. She'd feel stupid about the door later.
While Mark and Grant were ahead of the horde, the two young zombies heading for the mall door would get there at the same time as them. If they delayed Mark and Grant even a few seconds, the horde would catch up.
Time slowed and Jen pulled the rifle off her shoulder.
Can't shoot. What if there are zombies inside?
I can knock them down with the rifle butt.
But then I won't get inside in time.
She laid her rifle inside the mall and picked up the trash can next to the entry. Thank God it's not full.
She waited until the two zombies were only several feet from Mark and Grant, then heaved the trash can at the zombies' feet, turned, and dashed into the mall and held the door open.
The two zombies fell on the stairs as the trash can took their feet out from under them. Mark and Grant burst through the doorway, and Jen yanked the door closed. Zombies hit the door one after another like birds flying into a window. They piled up, snarling and clawing at the glass.
Grant leaned against the wall, his lungs heaving, while Mark walked in a little circle, his hands propped against his back.
Doc whispered, "We should get out of their sight. They're making a racket and it could draw any zombies inside."
Jen tugged on a door to a beauty salon, but it was locked. "Come on." She picked up her rifle and ran into the mall, stopping around the corner, out of sight of the zombies.
Sunlight
invaded the darkness wherever there was a door, but the rest of the mall was pitch-black. The zombies outside the door had already started to quiet.
"Doc," Jen said.
"Yes?"
"Did you see those two zombies? The ones that broke off chasing our tails and made a beeline for the door?"
"That I did," Doc said. "Could be an aberration."
Mark cleared his throat. "And if it isn't?"
"Then our problems just got a damn sight worse," Doc said. "But for now we should get what we came for. Which way?"
Jen listened, but could hear nothing other than the few zombies still banging the door they'd just escaped through. She switched on her flashlight.
"What are you doing?" Grant whispered. "You'll bring any zombies inside right to us."
Jen shined the flashlight down the row of storefronts. Now I know where I am.
She turned off the flashlight. "Unless you want to stumble around in the dark, I'll have to turn it on a few times to get where we're going."
Mark's voice came from beside her, and she jumped. "Jen leads. Grant, take rear. Doc behind me. Put your hand on the shoulder of the person in front of you. And have a weapon ready."
Mark's strong hand gently grasped her shoulder.
"Everyone ready?" she asked.
When they all answered, she walked slowly ahead. The store she wanted was across from the barber shop and next to the arcade. If she was right, the barber shop was just a few shops ahead.
She strained to hear anything beyond their soft footsteps. The zombies banging at the door faded into the distance.
Jen stopped and pointed the flashlight toward the store fronts before turning it on. The light hurt her eyes, and it took a few seconds for her to focus. She'd gotten disoriented, and the light shined into the mall, instead of into the storefronts to her left. She held her breath, expecting a high-pitched screech any second. But nothing came.
She let out her breath, her heart hammering, and swung the light to her side. There, two stores up, was the barbershop. She kept the light on, expecting Grant to bitch at any second, and headed for the shop, turning once she reached it and facing the other side of the mall.
Benches, chairs, and plants were scattered around the middle of the mall. She'd have to keep the light on while crossing it. She turned to the others. "We'll all have to use our lights here. Too many obstacles to make it across safely."
"This is starting to remind me of the hardware store," Grant said.
The four beams cut through the blackness, revealing a food court in the middle of the mall. It was a shambles, as if a riot had taken place. Jen walked to the edge of the food court, then hesitated.
"What's wrong?" Mark asked.
Jen tried to answer, but she didn't have enough spit in her mouth to form words, so she shook her head. Her mind ran through all the possibilities of escape should they run into a swarm. They couldn't go back the way they came in, but who the hell knew the situation at the other doors? They might not have time to worry about it.
Something crackled in the food court and the four light beams darted to the right. Jen squinted, but couldn't make any movement out.
"Probably just the building settling," Grant said.
"Mmm hmm," Doc said. "Bless your heart if it is."
Mark pointed his light back to the middle of the food court. "No screeches, no zombies. Nothing good will come from us standing out here."
Doubt ate at Jen's gut. She was the one who brought them all there. Was it a good idea after all?
There are no good choices, this was just the best one.
Still, uneasiness gripped her.
She picked her way into the food court, stepping over furniture and debris. Mark joined her on her left, while Doc and Grant paced her on the right. Blocked by an overturned table, she shined her flashlight to the storefronts before them. The beam landed on the sign for the Arcade. She pointed it to the shop on its right. "That's where we're going."
"A comic book shop?" Grant said. "Are you fucking kidding me? You plan on hitting the zombies with a rolled-up copy of Superman?"
"I'm curious to see what we've come all the way here for," Mark said.
Jen stepped over a fallen chair. "I'll show you."
She weaved her way through the broken furniture and dried blood, at one point stepping on something still squishy, and waited at the comic book store entrance for the others to catch up. Still no sign of zombies.
Doc peered in through the store window and shined his light inside. He turned around as Grant arrived. "I hope we come out of this with weapons," Doc said. "So far, we're off like a herd of turtles."
Jen opened the glass door and went inside. The place looked as if it hadn't been touched since the zombies rose. She passed displays of comics, posters, and board games to get to the glass case counter.
Grant pointed his beam at the display case, which contained action figures and game cards. "So where are the weapons?"
Jen stepped behind the case. "Look up."
The wall lit up with the beams and showed nothing but empty hooks. "What?" Jen's heart sank. "They had all kinds of swords, axes, and spiked bats." She pointed at the hooks on the wall. "That's what they hung them from."
Grant scowled. "So we risked this for nothing."
Jen felt like an ass. She tried to search Mark's eyes for any support, but his face was hidden in shadows.
A clunk came from the back of the store. That wasn't the building settling.
Jen turned toward the direction of the sound. Mark aimed his pistol and flashlight at the back of the store. "Doc, Grant," he said. "Watch our backs."
"You got it." Grant had his pistol ready.
Jen and Mark crept toward the back of the store. Mark shined the light down each side aisle, while Jen kept her flashlight and pistol pointed in the direction of the sound. She swallowed. Her beam fell on a wooden door.
Mark gestured her to go forward and positioned himself to the side of the door. When Jen was five feet from the door, Mark put his hand out and she stopped. He mimicked opening the door and she stood ready, aiming down the pistol's sight. Mark grasped the door handle and mouthed "Three, two, one." He swung the door open, and her light beam fell on a skinny ninja with his hands up, shading his eyes from the light.
16
The ninja froze, eyes blinking through the slit in his hood. "Please don't kill me. I can be a big help to you."
He sounds like a kid. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" Jen lowered the flashlight from the ninja's eyes, but kept the pistol aimed at him. "No one's going to kill you, but we reserve the right to make cracks about your costume."
The ninja blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Can I stand?"
"Sure," Mark said, then added, "Do you have any weapons on you?"
The ninja stood, revealing a scabbard beneath him. "Just my katana."
"What's going on back there?" Grant asked. Jen glanced at him. He had moved halfway through the store.
"We're good," Mark said. "Get back to the front and keep an eye out."
Grant's shadow dissolved into the gloom.
The ninja watched Mark closely, particularly the pistol in his hand. "You're not from upstairs?"
Jen and Mark looked at each other. Jen gave him a shrug. "No. Who's upstairs?"
Mark cut in. "Before we get to that, I want to know who you are and what you're doing here."
"I'm Zeke. This was my mall until those others came." He hesitated. "We really should get back in this room before one of the gang's guards find us."
"Take your hood off, Zeke," Mark said.
Zeke didn't move, and Mark raised his gun. Zeke pulled the black hood off, revealing a late teen-early twenties face with a long nose, acne, and a half-shaved head with green hair. Various piercings adorned his ears, nose, and lip.
"Just a kid," Mark muttered.
Zeke eyebrows lowered. "Just a kid who's survived."
Jen smiled. "He's got a point there." She gestur
ed to Zeke. "Let me see if I've got this right. You hid out in the mall when the shit hit the fan and survived, but some other people came in that you're afraid of and they camp out upstairs. Sound right?"
Zeke nodded. "Other people have come since. The gang upstairs either gets them to join up, or kills them."
Mark gestured with his pistol. "Why don't you move back into that room and we'll follow you. Leave your sword. We'll pick it up."
Zeke kept his hands up and backed into the room. From the outside it had looked like it was no bigger than a closet, but inside it would fit a couple dozen people.
Zeke pointed to a battery-powered camping lantern. "Close the door so the light doesn't give us away and I'll turn this on."
"I should get the others first," Mark said.
"Go ahead," Jen said. "I've got this."
Mark left and returned a minute later with Grant and Doc. He closed the door. "How about that light, Zeke?"
Zeke flipped on three battery-powered camping lamps. "Found these while rummaging through the mall."
The room lit up, everyone's shadows high up the walls. Cardboard boxes were stacked along one wall, while a long worktable with an assortment of action figures and other knickknacks lined another wall. Shelves with drinks and snacks stood at the end.
Mark switched off his flashlight. "Not bad."
"Why the ninja getup?" Doc asked.
Zeke put his arms out and smiled. "Like it? I used to almost live in this shop. I was here at least three or four times a week. I always wanted this costume, ever since they put it up on display six months ago, but I couldn't afford it." He spread his arms out. "Now I can afford anything in the store. Besides, it's great for sneaking around in the shadows."
"And the katana?" Grant asked. "It looks a little light to be useful for bashing in zombie heads."
Zeke picked up the scabbard and Mark raised his pistol. Zeke put his hands in the air. "I'm just going to show you."
Mark nodded at him. "Go ahead, but it'll take less than a second for me to put a bullet into you."
The Gauntlet_Book Two in the Zombie Uprising Series Page 8