| |
JENNA
The shout sends me into a crouch. In my surprise, I drop the tap handle. It hits the ground with a loud clunk.
Eric and Johnny drop to all fours and crawl behind the bar with me and Carter. We fill in around the dead body, trying to hide and avoid the corpse at the same time. Carter is mashed up against me, the smooth skin of his shaven cheek wedged against my elbow.
“Who was that?” Eric hisses.
“I was hoping it was one of you guys,” I whisper back, even though I know they wouldn’t be hiding behind the bar if that was the case.
“If it wasn’t us and it wasn’t you guys, then who was it?” Johnny’s whisper is thin.
“Probably just some jackasses who survived the outbreak,” I say in a soft voice. “Maybe it’s those people we saw earlier.”
“They’re messing with us.” To my horror, Eric raises his voice loud enough to carry. “You got us, assholes. You scared us. Now come out.”
Silence.
We wait. Somewhere outside is the squeal of a bat. Then the growls of the buffet zombies roll through the room.
I decide Eric is right. Someone is messing with us. “Hello?” I call.
Only the snarling zombies answer us.
Unease drips across my shoulders, followed by an urge to get the hell out of the Depot as fast as we can.
Palms sweaty around my spear, I creep around the edge of the bar and peer out into the common room. It’s darker than ever and difficult to see. In the gloom, nothing moves. The growls of the buffet zombies still roll across the tile, but there’s no visible sign of them.
“It’s clear,” I call back in a low voice. “Come on.”
Reed and Johnny each heft one of the kegs. They’re five-gallon kegs, a smaller format preferred by many of the local microbrews. I jam the tap handle through my belt. The four of us scurry across the commons, Carter and I in the lead.
As we near the exit, a figure rises from behind one of the buffets.
“Howdy, neighbors.”
To my dismay, I let out a girlish squeal and jump at least twelve feet into the air. Reed drops one of the kegs. It rings against the tile floor with a reverberating bang. Carter jumps in front of me.
The figure doubles over laughing. It’s a boy, a student in his university sweatshirt. Two other figures join him. It’s three boys, all of them in baggy sweatshirts and jeans. All of them laughing at us.
“You should see the look on your faces,” says one boy, pointing a finger at us. They practically fall over one another in their hilarity.
“Assholes,” I growl. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Wait, wait,” says the first boy. “Just hold up a sec.”
He looks me up and down, scanning me in a way that makes me want to scream. Even in an apocalypse, guys are all the same. I cross my arms over my breasts, blocking them from his view, and scowl at him.
If he notices my hostility, he covers it with a grin. “Look, we were just messing around.”
“Yeah, we were just messing with you,” says the second boy.
“We’re survivors from College Creek,” says the third boy. “We were out gathering supplies when we saw you.”
“College Creek?” Carter says. “We heard that place was overrun.”
That sobers the boys. “It was,” says the first one. “A few of us survived after the military took down the zombies.”
“How many of there are you?” I ask.
“Sixteen of us back in the dorm.”
Sixteen. More than twice our number.
“Do you have a good set up?” Eric asks.
The lead boy shrugs, eyes flicking toward me. “It’s okay. What dorm are you guys in?”
“Pepperwood,” Johnny says, flashing all of us a look. I don’t correct him, glad for the lie. “We have two kegs of beer. Do you guys want one?”
“Really?” The second boy takes a few steps in our direction.
“Sure,” Johnny says, giving us all that look again. I’m not sure what he’s trying to tell us but we go along anyway. Maybe relinquishing one of our kegs will dispel the uncomfortable tension in the air.
Johnny takes a few steps forward and deposits his keg in front of the College Creek boys.
“I’m Johnny. My friends are Carter, Eric, and Jenna. Who are you guys?”
“I’m Ryan,” says the lead boy. “My friends are Henry and Adam.”
“Nice to meet you,” Johnny says. “Maybe we’ll see you guys around sometime.”
“Maybe we’ll come visit,” Ryan says.
God, I hope not.
“Cool. See you around.” Johnny waves a noncommittal hand before hustling us all for the exit.
Right before we pass through the shattered windows, I spot the buffet zombies. Carter sees them at the same time. “What the ...”
Their legs have been hacked off, leaving nothing but bloody stumps protruding from their hips. Their arms have been cut off just below the shoulder. The discarded limbs are scattered between the salad bar and drink station.
Johnny and Eric, now holding the keg between them, crash into us. They curse before catching sight of our faces.
“Holy shit.” Eric’s voice is thin and high-pitched. “Did you guys do that?” he asks Ryan and the others.
“What, that?” Ryan points to the writhing undead, who are no more than three feet away from his shoes. He shrugs. “Just messing around, that’s all. Not like they can feel it.”
“They’re nasty enough when they’re in one piece,” Johnny says.
My feet feel like lead. I’m glad Johnny didn’t tell these fuckers where we really live. I’ve dispatched my fair share of zombies, but not like this. Their dismemberment is a mockery and disrespect to the people they once were. Mouth dry, I advance on the struggling things.
“Jenna, no.” Carter lays a hand on my arm.
I ignore him, licking my lips. I recognize one of the creatures. Reggie. He lived in a neighboring dorm. We took statistics together. He was a nice guy. He doesn’t deserve what happened to him.
I pass the College Creek boys, untouched by their amused disdain. Carter is by my side. For the first time today, I’m grateful for his presence. He’s like a shield between me and the College Creek guys.
I stop in front of Reggie’s wriggling body, the smell of the rotting food and rotting bodies washing over me.
I slam the sharpened end of my chair leg through his skull. Reggie shudders, then goes still.
I administer the same mercy to the second creature, a girl with a pixie cut who had been cute and petite when she’d been alive. My spear punches through her skull, the impact of the crumpling bone traveling all the way up my arm.
“I like to make sure they’re really dead,” I say to Ryan and his friends. “Just in case. See you guys around.”
When I rejoin Carter and the others, no one says a word. We hurry into the night with our beer keg.