by Hunt, Jack
“Sorry, my finger slipped.”
“Run,” I yelled. We unleashed round after round as we ran. To our dismay, most of them weren’t head shots, so they kept coming at us. I slung my assault rifle over my shoulder. It was attached by a strap. It was easier to run that way. I pulled out two handguns, the Glock 17 and a Beretta, and started firing.
“In here.”
I slammed my foot against a partially open metal door. I had no idea where it led or if there were more Z’s inside. I just knew we weren’t going to make it to the cruiser in one piece. There were too many. Even if we had reached the car, we would have been trapped. One by one they piled in. I continued dropping Z’s. Then we slammed the door shut. Except it wasn’t fully shut. A head and foot had squeezed in as we closed it. I fired a bullet into the face and the foot snapped. Pressing our backs against the door, we could feel the Z’s smashing into the other side. Our bodies jerked forward with every hit. The door clattered.
“Get something to jam between the handle,” I said.
Inside it was dark. I had attached a flashlight to the end of my AR-15. I flicked it on and swept the light around the room. Big mistake. The place was full of Z’s. I unloaded an entire clip taking them down. I popped the empty one out and slammed another one in. Specs and Baja and Jessica were against the door. All three of them were trying to keep the door closed while trying to assist me. It was pure mayhem. Then it stopped. The last one dropped. My heart was racing, my eyes darted around the room. I reached for a crowbar that I had seen beneath a table. I ran back and wedged it beneath the door. Specs leapt up and I took his place. I pushed my shoulder against the door while he looked around. He disappeared into the darkness then came back with what looked like a noose.
“What the hell?”
“Seems someone hung themselves.”
“Joking?” I replied.
“Nope.”
After we got the door tied off, we checked our ammo. Made sure we were loaded back up and then moved into the building. The ground had become like a bouncy castle. Except instead of it being inflated plastic, it was bodies. Chest cavities broke beneath our feet. Bones could be heard snapping. But that wasn’t the worst thing.
We were all still trying to catch our breath as we rounded the corner. We found ourselves in a room with thick wooden beams above us. A cross hung at the far end of the wall. That’s when I realized where we were. It was used for a religious group.
Bodies hung by their necks. There had to have been eight. Two of them were just kids. They couldn’t have been more than nine. Their lower extremities had been eaten by Z’s that had made their way in. Intestines hung out of a young girl.
“Why wouldn’t they wait? Why kill yourself?” Specs asked.
“Some lose hope fast. Who knows? Maybe they were part of a cult. Perhaps they saw this as an end of the world scenario.”
It was sick. I turned and felt my gag reflex kicking in.
“You OK there, bud?” Baja said.
“Give me a second.” I wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my sleeve.
They were still moving. While they had taken their lives, their brains were still intact. How long had they hung there before they turned?
“Should we stick them?” Baja asked.
“No. Just leave them.”
“We can’t leave them like this,” Jessica said.
“They aren’t human anymore,” I replied.
“Doesn’t matter.”
She yanked out her knife and jammed it into the skull of a six-year-old girl. Her body went limp. It was strange to see her comfortable with stabbing, then again her father had raised her to be a strong woman.
We moved around chairs that were laid out as though they were getting ready for a meeting. A large pulpit was at the far end of the room. Behind that was a drum set, microphone stands, and a big banner that read Jesus Saves.
I couldn’t help but see the irony in that. I had never been a religious person. I respected anyone who did have faith, and I could understand why people believed. It brought a level of comfort and meaning to their lives. But it wasn’t for me. I hadn’t had time to consider it. It seemed like a crutch. Perhaps we were a product of our environment. My father was not a churchgoer, and by default, I guess that meant we weren’t either. Maybe in time I would come to see the need for faith, but for now…there was no one coming to save us. Seeing that six-year-old hanging there confirmed that.
There were two doors, one on either side. We could hear the sound of the Z’s thumping on the door from where we had entered. It was getting louder. I had lost confidence in whether the wire was going to hold or not. We didn’t like the idea of being stuck in here and becoming some Z’s communion.
We managed to get to the next floor using the door on the right. Blood was smeared all the way up the stairs as if someone had been injured and fallen. Though nobody was to be found. On the next floor, there were offices. It was common to find businesses sharing the same building. This looked like a graphic design company. Modern Apple computers were scattered all over the floor. Screens cracked and cords torn from the walls. It was almost like someone had gone berserk and attempted to strangle a Z before someone had dropped a monitor on its head.
“You think there is anything we can salvage? I always wanted a Mac,” Baja said.
I shook my head and kept my gun on the ready. You never really knew when something was going to jump out at you. I was learning to live each day with an elevated heartbeat. If I didn’t die from a bite, I was liable to keel over from a heart attack.
I didn’t imagine the power in the town would last for much longer. Even though Castle Rock had a large solar power farm that the power company tapped into; unattended, the power grid could go down at any time. They had brought in these massive panels. It was meant to cut down on the amount of power used, and provide us with cheaper power.
We reached the main door. There were a few more stragglers inside. Most were half-eaten, moving on what remained of their torso. We put them out of their misery with knives to the head. It looked as though whoever had been inside here had attempted to board up the doors and windows. It had failed. Most of the windows were gone. Smashed in. Glass crunched beneath our boots as I scanned the immediate area for Z’s. Compared to what we had just experienced there were hardly any. But then again, the noise of our guns going off would have probably pulled most of them around the back of the building.
We didn’t hang around. I signaled to the others.
“Let’s go.”
We raced along the side of the building until we reached the cruiser. Baja jumped in it, and Jessica hopped in the van. Within a few seconds Baja had the engine going. The radio kicked in. The station was fuzzy. No music was playing. He turned it down. I motioned to Jessica who was having no luck with the van and we all piled into the cruiser.
I was riding shotgun, Baja drove, and the other two were in the back. There were several ways around to the grocery store. We couldn’t go through the main town, as there were too many Z’s. They would have easily stopped the car. Baja, known for his off-roading antics, took us down through West Point, which was a fancy part of our town. Generally only the wealthy lived there. It was a huge suburb that had been built just for the rich, or the assholes of our community. Their kids drove the best rides to school. They had the most up-to-date clothes, and usually were part of some sports team that no one gave a shit about. But they did.
The roads wound around the houses. It was like taking a drive through Stepford. It was quiet. We could see that some of the houses had been boarded up. This wasn’t because they weren’t owned. The occupants had obviously attempted to barricade themselves inside. By the look of bodies all over the place, I don’t think they had time. We kept moving until we came down into the parking lot of Castle Rock Grocery Store. It was the closest thing we had to a Walmart. A wannabe superstore that was owned by some prick.
There were still a lot of vehicles in the parking
lot. Z’s were roaming around in large numbers. The doors to the main store were wide open, which meant the place was probably crawling with them.
“You think this is a good idea?”
“Well, unless you want to go check out the two convenience stores, or raid a few homes. Yeah, it’s the best shot we have of finding some food that hasn’t passed its expiration date.”
The idea of eating mac and cheese for the next five years wasn’t appealing to me. I was hoping to find a steak or two. Maybe some nice frozen chicken that we could grill up tonight.
“I fancy some Pop-Tarts. The sweet ones with jam in the middle,” Specs said.
“A pretzel. Fresh bread,” Jessica added.
We clung to the desires of yesterday.
“Park up around the back. We’ll see if we can get in using the delivery trucks’ loading dock.”
AISLE TWELVE
“What the fuck do you think this is? Mario Kart?” I asked Baja. When we swung around the back of the grocery store he had this bright idea that eclipsed the five he had on the way here. He planned on dropping us off. We would take cover under one of the trucks that was pulled up to the dock. From there he would drive to the far corner of the parking lot, get out and start firing at the Z’s. He expected them to come towards him, and in the process draw them away long enough that we could slip in unnoticed.
Though I knew he just wanted to plow some of them down.
“You got any better ideas?”
We were all silent.
“I thought so. Now jump to it, and don’t forget the Pop-Tarts.”
We slipped out and ducked under the cargo container. Baja zipped away, though not before he burned rubber by doing a few donuts in the car park and activating the blue and red flashers. In among the smoke cloud he left behind we watched as Z’s followed him.
It was working.
Baja parked up on the furthest side, got out and starting taking potshots at them.
Z’s started dropping.
“I just hope he watches his back,” Jessica said.
“Let’s go,” Specs said, pulling out from underneath and vaulting up onto the concrete platform. The cargo container was backed into a loading space. The door was up and there was plenty of room to get through.
“Remember, use knives if possible. Guns are a last resort,” I said.
Inside it seemed strangely quiet. While everything looked normal at first, it wasn’t. Blood smeared all over the floor, boxes, and walls painted a picture of what had gone down here. We moved fast. Baja would keep moving to the corners of the parking lot while we dashed in and filled black plastic bags. I was carrying an empty duffel bag for cans.
Before we had even made it into the store area, we encountered four Z’s. One of them had a name tag that read Dave and the word supervisor below that. I stabbed him in the back of the head. The others took out the other three.
When we reached the thick plastic curtains that separated the storage area from the frozen fish section, we slipped through them and kept low. The store was full of the undead. The aisles had at least six Z’s in each. This wasn’t going to be easy. There was no way we could knife our way through them. I pulled my automatic assault rifle around, and gave a gesture for Jessica and Specs to do the same. We all knew the moment we started firing we would bring in more. But there was no way around it.
The smell of fish that was beginning to rot was masked by the stench of the dead corpses filling the store. The sound of snarling and moaning made us alert. Low, and with our backs against the fish display, we kept an eye on the back entrance.
“How are we gonna do this?” Jessica asked.
“We each take an aisle. Specs, you take aisle twelve, Jessica, three, and I’ll take one. Oh and Specs, don’t forget the Pop-Tarts.”
Aisle one was where all the frozen goods were. I wanted a damn T-bone steak and I wasn’t going to all this trouble to walk out of here without it.
“Ready?”
We nodded and then popped up. Now grocery store floors are usually slippery at the best of times. I don’t know why they wax them up so friggin’ shiny, but when you add blood into the mix, it makes them like an ice rink.
The snap of the first few bullets made those ugly motherfuckers turn. We each ran towards our aisle and for at least five minutes all that could be heard was the echo of gunfire. One after another we dropped them. Once my lane was clear I pulled my bag open and scooped up as many steaks as I could. Peppered, T-bone, rib-eye, the whole nine yards.
Surprisingly, most of the food had been untouched. I could tell that whoever was here when the shit hit the fan, didn’t even think about grabbing whatever they could before running. Some never made it. That was only evident by the shopping bags on the floor, and cans sprawled all over the place.
I kept moving fast. Once I had loaded up the bag I returned to where we had come from, but Specs and Jessica were still not back. I dropped the bag and raced over to aisle three. Jessica was still tossing bits into the bag. As she turned her back, a Z came around the corner. I tapped it in the head with one bullet. Its blood splattered all over the shelf as it dropped.
“Fuck yeah.”
One thing for sure, our shooting skills were going to improve. If we stayed alive long enough.
“Guys, there’s too many,” Specs shouted.
Jessica looked as if she was doing OK. I hammered it over to aisle twelve. As I got closer to the corner I slipped on a pool of blood and slammed into the shelving unit. Cans of beans, potatoes, and God knows what came down on me. It was like experiencing a mini avalanche, except this shit was metal.
Swearing, covered in blood, and trying to catch my breath. I could now see what Specs meant. He had been blocked in by Z’s from the front and the back. He had the good sense to grab a couple of trolleys in the aisle and spin them sideways, but he wasn’t going to be able to hold them off both ways. All it would have taken was one bite and he would have been toast.
“Specs, get down,” I yelled.
Still on the floor with my side in pain, I started shooting. I just peppered the tops of their heads. I kept my finger on the trigger until the ones behind him were no longer a threat. Likewise he was firing at the ones ahead.
I pulled myself up. The left half of my body was drenched in blood. Whose it was, was anyone’s guess. But it stunk to high heaven and it was as sticky as fuck. I would have rather bathed in my own semen than had that shit on me. It felt like molasses.
“Thanks, man.”
“Any time.”
“Shit. You need a shower.”
“You think?”
By the time his bag was filled up, Jessica had joined us.
“Now let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Roger that.”
We had made it back into the storage area, when we saw the exit that had served as our entrance was now overrun. As far as we could see there was the dead crawling and stumbling forward in our direction. We backed up.
“Shit, let’s…”
We were about to go back the other way when we found ourselves in the same predicament. Our gunfire had drawn even more in.
“Quick, in here,” I said.
There was a massive storage freezer. I yanked on the metal handle and pulled back the vault size door. It had to have been ten inches thick.
“I’m not going in there. We’ll freeze to death,” Jess said.
“Do we have any other option? You want to shoot your way through that?”
“Fuck,” Specs said as he dashed inside. I slammed the door behind us. The moment it clicked closed, I knew this was a bad decision. The power was still on, so the fans above were spinning and pumping in cold air. The room was huge. Metallic. The floors were made of grated metal. Metal shelves held large amounts of packed meat. Some of it was hung on hooks.
From inside we could hear the Z’s banging against the door. As solid as the door was, there was a slim chance they could open it. All it would take was for one o
f them to get its arm hooked on the door handle and fall back and it would have cracked the lock.
Our breath could be seen in white wisps of smoke. We immediately started rubbing our arms before shoving our hands into pockets.
Jessica’s eyes began to well up with tears. “This is crazy. I want my father.”
I tried to comfort her by pulling her in close to me and wrapping my arms around her. I didn’t say anything. There was nothing that could be said to alleviate what she was feeling. The earth-shattering noise of Z’s pounding against what would likely become our tomb was enough to break any of us. There was only one way out, and we had made the stupid decision to seal ourselves in.
All we could do was hope that Baja was OK. That he would realize we were in trouble and go get the others. There was no way he was going to come inside. He wouldn’t have stood a chance against the herd.
I’m not sure how long we were inside that freezer. Time seemed to freeze. It felt like hours, but was likely only five minutes. Our lips were starting to turn blue. My ears stung and what little warmth remained in my toes and fingers was gone. We all knew if we didn’t get out of there soon, we would freeze to death.
When you are in an extreme situation, your mind searches for answers. Anything to keep you alive. You begin to think of things that may not even be possible, but anything was better than death.
I looked up at the large fans pumping cold air down onto us.
“We’re going up.”
“What?” Jess said.
“Step back. Move.”
Jess and Specs moved behind me. I aimed my assault rifle at the fan and began shooting. You see, the idea seemed doable. Shoot the fan motor enough times, it would stop. We could then yank off the cover and bend the blades or pull the whole unit down, then we could go up through the vents. By the size of the hole behind it, I imagined, it had to have been large enough for us to fit through. What I hadn’t banked on was bullets ricocheting. I unleashed a furious amount at the fan. Sparks ignited, and bullets ricocheted, one of them hit Specs in the leg. What made it worse, was the fan was still was in one piece. It hadn’t even been scratched. But now Specs was wounded.
