Nicole's Odyssey (Human Extinction Level Loss Book 1)

by Philip McClimon

  Eight

  “What do you mean, they’re already here? Who’s here?” Sam asked.

  Nicole did not answer as she ran to the front of the store. His frustration mounting, Sam followed her. Pressed up against the glass doors by Customer Service was a Runner. The glass doors held, but the zombie continued to work its legs, its feet finding little traction as they slipped in a perfect mix of puss, blood and gangrenous flesh that oozed from its upper body.

  Nicole stared at the glass doors. “They are,” she said.

  Sam looked from her to the doors. To Nicole’s surprise, Sam did not seem impressed or shaken in the least.

  “Aw, that’s just a bug. We get them from time to time. I’ll show you how we handle them,” Sam said as he snatched the ax handle out of Nicole’s hand.

  “But not with this one, that’d be stealing,” he said as he turned and walked to the back of the store.

  Nicole stood watching, as behind the Runner, another appeared. This one was not so fleet of foot. It shuffled up to the glass dragging a mangled and useless foot behind it. The flesh on both arms had been stripped down to the bone. Reaching the glass, it stopped. It worked its lipless mouth and tried to bite through the door, its teeth making a nerve-rattling click as it tried to bite through the glass. Sam jogged up to Nicole, all smiles. In his hand was the ax handle he had checked out of store inventory.

  “This one is a little worn, but it’ll still do the job,” he said. Sam stared at the side of Nicole’s head, waiting for her to share his confidence.

  When Nicole did not answer, he turned to see what she was staring at. “Two of them, huh? I’ve never seen more than one at a time,” Sam said.

  A crash from the doors down by the registers caught their attention. Nicole ran over and Sam followed. Both stood aghast as they saw two more Shufflers pounding on the glass. Behind them, a Runner slammed into the door. The impact knocked the zombie back and it fell. Slowly, it got up and charged the glass, and then it too was on its own treadmill of bodily fluids. In unison, Nicole and Sam raised their eyes past the ones at the doors. Streaming into the parking lot like holiday shoppers on Black Friday was the bulk of the advancing horde.

  Within moments, the parking lot was lost to view, as the Dead pressed up against every square inch of glass. The doors were holding, but they bucked and swayed under the weight of the bodies pressed against them.

  “Those doors aren’t going to hold,” Nicole said. She turned and headed off to look for something to reinforce them. Sam followed.

  “They’re just bugs! If you leave them alone, they will leave you alone!” he shouted after her.

  Nicole spun around and pointed at the doors. “Does that look like they are leaving us alone!? And why do you call them bugs?” she asked as she resumed her search for better fortifications.

  Sam watched her go. “Cause that’s what they are…” Sam’s words trailed off. He could tell she was not listening.

  Nicole raced down the main aisle. She scanned down the side aisles as she passed, looking for anything that might be substantial enough to fortify the doors. She got to aisle seventeen and skidded to a stop. On the entire left side of the aisle were pallets of eighty-pound bags of cement mix, concrete reinforcer, and cement blocks. Nicole saw a pallet jack sitting against the wall and ran over to it. Grabbing it, she raced back down the aisle, the pallet jack rumbling behind her. When she got to the first pallet of cement mix, Nicole rammed the pallet jack under it and pumped it up. Heaving on the handle, she thought a vein in her head was going to bust. Slowly the wheels of the jack overcame the resistance and the pallet began to roll. She wheeled the pallet down the aisle towards the first set of glass doors. As she got to the front, Nicole noticed Sam on the Curtain aisle. He was front facing stock.

  “A little help here would be nice,” she said.

  Sam stayed focused on the boxes of the curtains in front of him and did not look at her. “I am not going to help you create a fire hazard and destroy store property, ma’am. As soon as the Loss Prevention manager gets here, you are in big trouble. You’re just lucky he’s the only one authorized to take action, or I would detain you right now,” Sam said.

  Nicole stared at him. It began to dawn on her that he was perhaps not going to be much help. Not having the resources or the time to deal with him, she shook her head and resumed working. Through much effort, she dropped the pallet against the first set of glass doors. Satisfied that she had bought herself some time, Nicole dragged the pallet jack behind her and headed back down aisle seventeen. Sam continued to do his daily tasks, frustration and anger written all over his face as he watched Nicole mess up his store. While she hauled another pallet of concrete mix down to the second set of doors, Sam angrily retrieved a broom and dustpan and swept up the concrete powder that had spilled from a torn bag by the first set of doors.

  ☣

  After a half hour of intense labor, a pallet of cinder blocks was positioned in front of each of the last two sets of doors leading to the greenhouse area. A sweaty Nicole slumped down on the floor, her back against the last pallet, and tried to catch her breath. Sam approached and glared down at her.

  “How am I supposed to get to my vegetables, now?” he asked. Nicole looked up at him.

  “Vegetables?” she asked.

  Sam walked away. “Yeah, I’ve got to eat, ya know,” he said then made his way to Receiving.

  Nicole sat reclined against the pallet with her eyes closed. After several minutes, her strength returned and she heaved herself up and followed him. When she got back to receiving, Sam was nowhere to be seen. Against the wall was a small office formed by a metal cage. A metal door stood open. Inside she could hear Sam rustling. Nicole walked over and entered the office. Sam was turning on a hotplate. Along one wall was a chaise lounge with some throw pillows and curtains for a blanket. In a bowl on the desk were some tomatoes and carrots. Nicole looked at Sam.

  “Have you been living here?” she asked. Sam did not turn around.

  “No! It’s just that I’ve had to close the store then open the next day which makes going home hardly worth it. They’re not supposed to do that, it’s illegal. An employee must have eight hours off between shifts. That’s… clearly stated in the employee handbook,” Sam said. He continued to fidget with the hotplate.

  Nicole sighed. Now that she had a minute to assess, it became clear to her that Sam had not dealt with current events in what could be termed a psychologically healthy way. She knew she had bigger problems than Sam’s maladaptation to present circumstances, however.

  “We can move the pallet back for a minute if we need to get to the garden area. It would probably be good to take a look at the chain link anyhow, see how it’s holding up,” Nicole said.

  Sam stared at the wall, then looked over at her. “Fine,” he said. Nicole stepped aside and let him pass.

  This time, Sam did help her. They moved the pallet away from the last set of glass doors and turned them on. With the building sealed up, the clamoring sound of the Dead, the moaning, scratching, and banging, was kept to a dull roar. As Sam and Nicole left the store and entered the greenhouse area, the sound was almost deafening. A new element assaulted Nicole's senses as well. The smell of death and decay permeated the air as hundreds of the Dead surrounded the store. Nicole grabbed her stomach and wanted to wretch.

  Sam looked at her. “You gonna be alright?” he asked.

  Nicole tried to hold on. “The smell doesn’t bother you?” she asked incredulously.

  Sam walked away. “What smell?” he asked.

  Nicole went to the fences. Three sides of chain link fence caged in a large area against the side of the store. The greenhouse area consisted of Fruit trees, plants, bushes, landscaping items and pallet after pallet of dirt and mulch. Along all three sides of the fence, the Dead tried to push and squeeze themselves in. Though not as concentrated here as at the front, they were still two deep on almost every side. As they sensed Nicole and Sam, their clam
oring intensified and their moaning chorus reached a new crescendo.

  Nicole rushed over to Sam. “We should grab whatever we are going to need and get out of here fast. This fence won’t last,” Nicole said.

  As she approached Sam, she saw what he had done. Rows of Cattle troughs and other containers were set up in rows. They were filled with dirt and in them grew various vegetables. Empty seed packets were strewn all over the ground. Further down were trees: peach, and apple, bearing fruit. Sam grabbed a plastic bucket and began to gather his crop. Nicole stared then began to help.

  “Grab as much as you can. I don’t know how long we are going to have to stay in there,” she said. Not finding a bucket, she grabbed one of the trees, which were still in their planters and began to drag it back to the door.

  Fifteen minutes later, Nicole and Sam had a good supply of the fruits and vegetables piled up in the back, along with several of the trees. For her efforts, Nicole felt even more winded than before, and was now covered in dirt and sweat. Sam went into the caged office and began to chop up some vegetables. Feeling grimy, Nicole tried to wipe some of the dirt off her.

  “A shower would be nice about now,” she said under her breath.

  “Around the corner,” Sam said. Nicole looked up in surprise.

  “Really?” she asked.

  Going around to the back of the office, Nicole saw that Sam had made a makeshift shower. A one-piece shower kit sat over a drain in the floor. A shower curtain rod rested across the top, the curtain pulled to one side. Hanging over the top in the back was a handheld shower head connected to a garden hose that ran down and along the floor. The other end of the hose was connected to one of the nozzles on a dual spicket over by a floor scrubber. A second hose ran from the other nozzle over to a power washer that sat next to an industrial blower used to dry carpets after a flood.

  “What’s this?” Nicole asked. Sam poked his head out and looked at the blower and pressure washer.

  “It’s what I use to wash my clothes,” he said then ducked back in the office.

  Nicole looked at the shower. Sitting in the molded soap dish along one wall was a dispenser of hand soap. On a table near the shower was a stack of red shop towels.

  “Hey, if I take a shower, no peeking, okay!” She called out.

  In the office, Sam did not respond as he focused on chopping his carrots. Nicole walked over to the spicket and turned on the nozzle. Seconds later, water sprayed from the shower-head. Going back to the shower-head, she tested the water and found it cold.

  “Oh well, this ain’t the Hilton,” she muttered as she began to disrobe.

  Minutes later, Nicole shoved back the curtain and stepped from the shower. The red shop towels were not Martha Stewart quality, but a half dozen later and she was in the vicinity of dry. Figuring she had been naked in the back of a glorified hardware store long enough, Nicole reached for her clothes. The thought of putting back on the sweat filled garments was not something she relished, and she cast a second look at the pressure washer. Next to the pressure washer was another of the long troughs and a bottle of liquid laundry detergent. Another glance towards the office confirmed she still did not have an audience, so she risked it and chucked her clothes into the trough. Pouring some detergent on them, she picked up the wand of the pressure washer. She sprayed her clothes in the trough and worked the detergent into a froth. Under the force from the pressure washer, her clothes swirled and rolled in the suds. After several minutes, she turned off the pressure washer, retrieved her clothes, and wrung them out. Holding each garment in one hand and the wand in the other, Nicole rinsed her clothes. Another glance toward the office confirmed Sam was not looking at her.

  “Well, at least he’s not a perv,” she said to herself.

  The clothes rinsed, Nicole went to the blower and turned it on. Twenty minutes later, her clothes were dry. Feeling rejuvenated, she got dressed and went back into the office.

  Sam was lying on the chaise lounge, his back to the door. On the desk, a paper plate with some carrots and green beans, a peach, and an apple sat next to a can of Coke. Taking the plate and drink, Nicole quietly exited the office. She hopped up on a stack of pallets and set the plate down beside her. She tried to gather her thoughts and when she had, decided that so far it wasn’t going so well. For the second time, she found herself holding up in a building and surrounded by The Dead. With her time split between driving and getting trapped, she figured it would take forever to get to Colorado. It was like a bad game of he loves me/he loves me not, only in this case it was more like they eat me/they eat me not. Nicole sighed as she reached over and grabbed the can and popped the tab. She took a swig of Coke and told herself she was simply going to have to do better. The dull roar of the clamoring Dead outside played like a bass line beneath the store's background music. Nicole ate her peach and hoped she would live long enough to try.

  Nine

  Nicole stood in front of the glass doors by the registers. She couldn't sleep and had wandered the store in the wee hours, trying to come up with something, anything that would get her out of there and back down the road. Throughout the night, the Dead had not dispersed. Some part of her knew they wouldn’t, that they would still be there, biding their time until the inevitable. Some other part of her, a much smaller part, had hoped that things would not be as they are. That part of her had imagined that she would look out and see that the Dead had moved on, that she would be able to get in her car and drive away. Staring at the Dead, she realized simple hope was a vanity she could not afford. Already the Dead had made progress. The glass, which just yesterday was only slightly cracked, was now covered in impact damage to such an extent she could hardly see through it.

  Sam stepped up beside her. He decided that she must not be a customer after all, but was here to help him with the store’s bug problem. Why else would she seem so fixated with them?

  “They’re not gone?” he asked.

  Nicole sighed. She lacked the energy to try to convince him of reality or cater to his fantasy. “They’re not going anywhere,” she said.

  As if to emphasize her point for her, at that moment new sounds of impact came from the side doors leading out to the greenhouse area. Nicole rushed down the main aisle towards the doors. Sam rushed after her. The two stared in shock as layers of the Dead pressed up against the sliding doors. Beyond them, the chain link fence was demolished. The Dead rushed in by the tens and twenties. Many slammed against the doors in front of them; many more attacked the other doors farther down the aisle.

  “I wish there was some way we could see outside,” Nicole said. Sam looked at her.

  “Well, there are the external security cameras,” he said.

  A minute later, Nicole and Sam were in the Loss Prevention Manager’s office staring at a bank of monitors. Six monitors relayed images of the store’s perimeter. Along the front of the store, they saw what they already knew. The Dead were jammed in eight to ten deep. In the greenhouse area, the situation was better; they were only two to three deep out there. Along the West side, the side facing the town of Fair Valley, the Dead, five deep, struggled in vain to push through the cinder block wall. The rear of the store had the least concentration. All along the back, right up to the receiving bay door where Sam’s office was, the Dead were scattered in ones and twos. Nicole looked at the monitor showing the front of the store. The GTO sat where she had left it. The hood of the car faced the store and was buried in the Dead up to the front doors. They paid it no attention in their efforts to push through the glass.

  Nicole tried to think. “The rear of the store is our best option, but that leaves a heck of a lot of ground to cover to get to my car. Ground we have to cover unnoticed,” she said.

  Sam stared at the screens and sipped coffee from a paper cup. Nicole noticed the coffee for the first time.

  “Really? Coffee, at a time like this?” she asked. She stormed out of the office.

  “I gotta have my morning coffee,” Sam said. He c
ontinued to stare at the monitors. His mind told him again they were only bugs.

  Nicole stared down the lumber aisle at several blue carts. Some were completely flat with a raised handle. Others resembled large baskets with wheels. The ones that got her attention, just as she was about to give up any notion of getting out alive, were the ones that were flat with tubular steel. The tubular steel formed three sections, two sides and a middle that resembled an “H.” She walked over to one and pushed it. All four wheels turned independent of each other and keeping it in a straight line proved a challenge. Sam approached and sipped his coffee.

  “What are you doing?” he asked as he watched Nicole climb into the cart on her hands and knees.

  She did not answer as she stuck her arms out of the sides and pushed off the floor as if trying to paddle a raft through the water. The cart moved forward. She did this for several minutes and made a meandering path down the aisle. At the end of the aisle, she climbed out of the cart, breathing heavy and rubbing her arms.

  “It’ll need a covering. They can’t see us or all this thing will be is a serving cart,” she said.

  “What are you talking about?” Sam asked.

  Nicole looked up from the cart to Sam. “Getting out of here,” she said.

  Sam looked at the cart as Nicole grabbed a four by eight sheet of plywood. She struggled with the oversize piece.

  “Um, Customer Service, please,” she called.

  Sam put down his coffee and helped her put the plywood sheet in the left section of the cart.

  “Another one,” she said.

  Sam helped her put the second sheet on the right side. She leaned them together at the top forming a triangle. The sides were now closed off by the wood, leaving only the front and back opened. Nicole squeezed into the middle of the cart.