Billie cringed. “That’s attractive,” he said before he slammed his golf club into the zombie’s mouth. “Obviously her friends should have signed her up for ‘What Not To Wear.’”
When we finally made it inside, I began searching for car keys while Billie grabbed a couple of cubicle wall pieces and placed them against the doorway, blocking the entrance. I had to admit, for a guy wearing a dress, he was much stronger than he appeared.
“Don’t forget to grab a couple of chairs to hold it in place,” said Henry as he sat down on a leather sofa in the showroom and took out his tin of chew. “I’d help you, but I’m almost a century old and can’t handle much more of this excitement.”
The keys were located in a locked drawer in the back of the showroom. I blasted a hole into it and yelled out to the guys to choose a couple of the vehicles from the showroom floor.
“Oh yeah, and I will need the model number to locate the correct keys,” I yelled.
“There’s an LX on the floor that’s mighty pretty, Wild,” called Henry.
We ended up choosing two SUVs on the showroom floor, one of them built for luxury, the other on was some kind of Hybrid with better gas mileage.
“Shit, some of the zombies will be getting through soon,” said Billie. They were kicking and pushing at the wall he’d built. “Let’s hurry.”
Henry got up from the couch. “Get in the car, Billie. Wild and I’ll take care of the zombies. You just get ready to drive like a bat out of hell when it’s time to go.”
When the zombies finally made it through our temporary blockade, Henry and I took them out. Then, we signaled for the others to leave the bus.
“Hurry, but be careful where you step,” I said, as Mary and the others stepped cautiously off the bus and around the beheaded zombies. When they walked into the dealership, Henry and I blocked the entrance again with more of the cubicle pieces.
“Here,” I said, handing Dale the other keys. He jumped in and started the engine while Shane loaded food and water into the back of the SUV.
“Come on, Mary,” I said. She was staring toward the opening in the glass at the zombies peeking over the cubicle wall.
“Ben?” gasped Mary. She pointed toward a young man, obviously now, a zombie. “Oh, my God! It’s my son!”
17
“Jesus Christ, woman! Your son wouldn’t be at this festival! He’s hustling whores in Amsterdam!” yelled Henry, who was now waiting in Billie’s vehicle. “Get your butt into the SUV!”
But Mary was transfixed and started moving toward the zombie, who stared at her with more than just love; his was an insatiable hunger for Southern food.
“Ben? What have they done to you?” she sobbed, raising her hands out to meet his outstretched ones.
“No, Mary… stop!” I hollered, grabbing for her arm. I tried pulling her back toward the SUV, but she broke away from me.
“It’s okay, Cassie,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Ben would never hurt his momma.”
Then everything seemed to happen at once. The glass-plated wall surrounding the dealership shattered as the crowd of zombies pushed forward. Within seconds, they were all finding a way in.
“Ben” stumbled toward us with a victorious grin etched across his chewed-up face.
“Stay back, Mary!” I yelled, pushing her safely behind me. I then raised the sword and started slashing at the grotesque zombies quickly approaching us, while trying to push her closer to the SUV. Blood and body parts began flying everywhere and I had to force back down some stomach acid mixed with dill chips from earlier.
“Ben!” yelled Mary. “Come with us, son!”
He wanted to come with her, but for different reasons. Before I knew it, he stood in front of us with his hands moving toward me. When I raised my sword to remove his head, Mary screamed and pushed me over to protect the zombie she was so sure was her son. My ankle twisted again, and I cried out in pain.
“I’m sorry, honey, but it’s my boy!” sobbed Mary, now facing me, her back to the zombie.
“He’s behind you!” I yelled at her, trying to crawl away myself. My ankle was on fire and I couldn’t get up. “Watch out!”
Instead, she offered me her hand to help me up. “Here, dear,” she said, smiling.
I watched in horror as Ben bared his teeth and pitched forward.
“Mary!” I screamed in anguish.
I knew it was the end for her and there was nothing I could do. With a cold smile of victory on his seeping face, he attacked Mary viciously from behind. He opened his mouth, bit the back of her head, and began chewing greedily. Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief.
“No!” screamed Henry, who was now scrambling to get out of the SUV.
But it was too late, Mary was dragged to the ground and several zombies were on top of her, tearing through her clothes to get to her flesh.
“Oh, my God, Mary!” I choked, backing away from the crowd of undead now feeding upon her. There was no way I could get to her without getting bitten myself. Somehow, I managed to stand.
“Get into the SUV, Cassie!” hollered Billie.
I took one last heart-wrenching glance toward the horrible scene, trying desperately to think of a way to save her. But then I caught a glimpse of her lifeless blue eyes, which now stared up at the ceiling, and I knew it was too late anyway.
Billie laid on the horn and I limped to the SUV.
“Are you okay?” I asked Henry as I slid in next to him.
“What do you think?” he mumbled.
I grabbed his hand and held it in mine. “I’m sorry, I tried to stop it.”
Henry raised his tear-stained face and looked me in the eye. “It’s not your fault, Wild. Don’t ever blame yourself. She was a stubborn woman.”
“Hold on, guys, we’re getting the hell out of here,” said Billie, fastening his seatbelt.
The next thing I knew, we were flying through broken glass following Dale.
“Check that out,” pointed Billie as we blew through the crowd of zombies surrounding the dealership.
A big, red pickup truck was charging down a side street and Dale began to follow him, so of course we did, too.
There had to be thousands of zombies combing the streets and I realized how lucky we were by escaping. Unfortunately, we’d lost the one person in the group I would have gladly risked my life to save. She’d been loving and kind, and I knew that if I survived this nightmare, I’d be a better person because of knowing her.
Sorry, Mary, I thought. I wish I could have saved you.
It was quiet in the SUV and I stared blindly out the window, thinking about all the lives lost and the ones that were walking a fine line between life and death. I thought of Allie again and prayed she was still holding on. I missed her and my mother so very much, it was beginning to feel like grief.
When we finally made it through the town of undead bikers, we slowed until we parked parallel to Dale on the side of the road. The other truck sat idling about a hundred feet away, now facing toward us with its lights shining brightly.
Dale rolled his window down. “What the hell is that guy doing?”
Billie waved at the red truck through his window but they didn’t respond. “You’d think they’d be happy to see other living people,” he yelled.
“Maybe it’s because you look a little creepy, sweetheart,” quipped Dale, “especially, with your mascara running down your face, your crazy man hair, and the torn evening gown.”
“Oh, damn it,” groaned Billie, looking down. “It is torn! And it’s a Versace.”
I looked over at Henry, who was now snoring softly.
Poor guy, I thought, thinking of his best friend, Mary. She’d had a huge heart and had paid for it with her life.
I picked up the sword she’d given me and cringed; it was still covered with traces of zombie blood. “I’m putting this sword into the back of the SUV,” I said. “It’s totally disgusting.”
When I got out of the SUV, the mysterious
truck flashed its high-beams at me, temporarily blinding me. I scowled and flipped him off.
“Cassie,” said Billie, “best to not start anything. We’ve all had enough violence tonight.”
“The jerk doesn’t have to flash me like that,” I said, climbing back in.
With a rev of the engine, the stranger kicked up some rocks and tore away down the road.
“Freak,” snorted Dale.
“Hey, Dale, you lead,” said Billie. “Next town you see that’s not too infested with those zombies, find a store. I need to get my hands on some new clothes.”
“We all do, honey,” said Shane pointing his thumb at Dale. “It’s beginning to smell a little funky in this SUV.”
Dale snickered.
“You know it’s true,” said Shane. “Don’t be a hater because I smell like Chanel and you smell like something that crawled out of a zombie’s butt.”
“Excuse me, but your perfume wore off many zombies ago. Don’t even get me started on your stank, bitch.”
“Let’s go,” said Billie, who shook his head and started the engine. Before long, we were on the road again, driving through Kentucky.
I swallowed back my grief and sent my dad a text message, letting him know that we were a little behind and that I really missed him.
I miss you too, honey, he’d typed back. If we beat you to Nashville, I’ll text you. Also, if your phones die, just meet us at the Grand Ole Opry. It’s only a few miles past the airport and there are signs all over to lead you there. Stay strong!
Although I was dying to ask about Bryce and Eva, I really didn’t want to know what was happening, so I just typed a quick goodbye to my dad. In less than four hours, I’d know the truth anyway.
18
We drove until we reached the city of Richmond, where Dale pulled into a large Wal-Mart parking lot. We decided against the local mall since there were too many zombies to risk getting in.
“This makes more sense anyway,” I said. “I think they even sell some kind of firearms.”
We followed Dale through the parking lot while he maneuvered us around most of the zombies. Just when I thought he was going to drive through the front entrance, he drove around to the back of the store where an employee exit door stood ajar.
“I worked at Wal-Mart when I was younger,” said Dale, “always kept the back door open there, too.”
“Keep your personal life to yourself,” grumbled Henry. “There’s a young, impressionable girl present.”
“Gotta love a hypocrite,” mumbled Billie under his breath.
Henry scowled. “What was that?”
Hiding my smile, I went to the back of the truck and grabbed the katana.
“Zombies coming… let’s go in, now!” hollered Dale.
A large group of zombies staggered toward us as we quickly slipped through the door into the warehouse. The door locked automatically once it was shut, and we could hear them growling and clawing outside, trying desperately to get to us.
“It’s dark in here,” mumbled Dale.
“That’s why you should always be prepared,” said Henry, pulling out a flashlight. “I made it this far for a reason, too, you know.”
We cautiously made our way through the warehouse and into the large store. From there, we found just enough light peeking through the windows as the sun began to rise to see where we were going. This was good, because it was at that point we encountered our first two zombies in Wal-Mart.
“Got this,” I hollered.
I raised the katana, and within seconds I had both of their rotting heads rolling down the aisle.
“Damn, girl,” said Shane, giving me a high-five. “I think you’re my new BFF. No offense, Dale.”
Dale pretended to pout. “None taken, bitch.”
Henry looked bewildered and shook his head. “You people are so confusing.”
“Gun section up ahead,” I said, jogging toward the large glass case. I found a couple of rifles and quickly broke through the lock to inspect them.
“Wow, this one’s impressive. It’s an M16,” I said and smiled, surprised by their selection. “Oh yeah, this will do very nicely.”
Dale patted me on the back. “You know, I don’t know what we’d have done without your help. Has anyone ever told you that you’re a rock star?”
I blushed. “No, but thanks.”
“I have to agree, your parents raised you right. You were more prepared for this shit than any of us,” said Billie, putting an arm around my shoulders. “Martial artist, gunslinger, and even a sword master. Damn, I’ve never, ever met a girl your age with as much determination.”
I shrugged. “Survival will do that.”
“Well, you survive very well,” said Dale. “And we’re all grateful.”
“Let’s get going before I die of old age here,” said Henry. “I’m supposed to be meeting my son in Nashville in a few hours.”
“Oh, is he cute?” asked Dale.
The look Henry gave him was enough raise all the dead we’d killed earlier.
“Um, we should really stock up on ammunition,” I said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
We scored several rounds of ammunition for both rifles and even my Ruger.
“Here,” said Billie, handing me a backpack. “Fill it up.”
When we were done, we searched the rest of the sporting goods section and located some pretty impressive machetes.
“Oh yeah,” said Shane as he picked up one that was twenty-five inches long. “I don’t care what they say, bigger is better.”
“Zombies, coming in quickly!” squealed Dale.
Three rabid zombies were ambling toward us. Henry raised his gun and started shooting.
“Shane, behind you!” I yelled.
Shane turned around and screamed at the gruesome zombie coming at him. Its face was riddled with bloody sores, one of its ears was missing, and its intestines were trailing behind. It was so disfigured, I couldn’t tell if it was male or female.
Shane closed his eyes and started stabbing wildly at the air.
“Jesus Christ, open your eyes, sissy!” hollered Henry, shaking his head. “The zombie isn’t going to wait for you to kill it or step into your line of air stabs.”
But he’d overestimated this mindless zombie, who did step forward to receive a deep stab, right to his skull.
“Good job, Shane!” cried Dale, as he ran toward Shane and shook him excitedly. “You did it!”
Shane was trembling and there were tears running down his cheeks. “It’s… dead?” he asked, brushing at them.
I grinned. “Oh, it’s more than dead now, Shane. Awesome job!”
He closed his eyes again, nodded slowly, and released a ragged sigh. “Just give me a moment to compose myself.”
We decided to split up and began scoping out the store, killing more zombies as we moved.
“Rotten meat,” remarked Dale when I ran into him by the food section. “God, it smells as bad as the zombies in this section.”
Packages of unrefrigerated meat lay strewn throughout the place, most of them opened and empty.
“Looks like they were really feasting over here,” said Billie, coming up behind me.
We grabbed a stroller and started gathering some nonperishable food, water, and first-aid items. I also grabbed a large container of pickles.
“Pickles?” said Billie. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”
“Only that I love ‘em,” I said, opening up the jar. I took a large one out and started crunching down. I closed my eyes and smiled. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, my precious friend.”
“Billie, do you like your pickles that big, too?” asked Dale with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Shut it, perv,” replied Billie.
“Hey,” called Henry, who was walking toward us. “I think it’s time you boys left your skirts behind and found something more appropriate for killing zombies.” He was now wearing a new pair of jeans and button-down shirt. Th
e cowboy hat he’d been wearing earlier was also replaced with a new black one.
“Looking sharp, Henry,” I said, crunching down on my second pickle.
“Thanks, Cassie. You know, you might want to consider changing yourself.”
I looked down; my shirt was splattered with bits of zombie gore. “Yeah, it’s time to go shopping.”
After one last pickle, I grabbed a cart and started loading it with T-shirts, shorts, and underwear.
“Billie, can you cover me while I change in the ladies room?” I asked.
He smiled. “No problem.”
“Thanks,” I said, grabbing a few toiletries, a couple of towels, and some new mountain boots.
In the restroom, I stripped and cleaned the dried blood from my body, then washed my hair and brushed my teeth.
As I stepped out of the restroom wearing a white tank top and black cargo pants, Billie gave me an exasperated smile. “Um, you have a whole store to choose from and you’re going to go with ‘boring’?”
“Sorry, I’m going with practical.”
He studied my face. “I guess with your looks, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. I’m sure the boys were pounding down your door for dates back home.”
I snorted. “No. Not really.”
“Maybe they were intimidated by you.”
“Well, I went out with one guy from my karate class a couple of times. We didn’t really connect, though. Then there was this other guy recently who I thought was the one, but…” I shrugged and looked down.
Billie placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, honey. Did he die?” he asked softly.
I looked him in the eyes. “No, but if I get my hands on him, he’s going to wish he had.”
19
We grabbed our carts, now heaped with supplies, killed a few zombies hovering around the two trucks, and left Wal-Mart.
“We’ll follow you, Shane,” said Billie, again in the driver’s seat. Henry rode next to him again while I sprawled out in the back with my tender ankle.
Zombie Games (Uncut) Boxed Set Page 23
