Don't Dare Call Them Zombies : Books 1-4 (2 page)

Mr. Allen turned down the volume as the voice on the radio announced, “I have just been handed a note telling me that a number of murders seem to have also taken place in Nevil City overnight.”

“Something is very wrong,” Mr. Allen muttered as Ms. Suzy walked into the cutting room and headed towards the coffee pot. She looked at me, and I realized that I hadn’t even spoken to Mr. Allen about her encounter that morning. I immediately explained to him about what she saw, and asked if he thought that she should report the incident to the police.

“I think they’re plenty busy at the moment,” he said. “Let’s hold off on reporting that for now, Suzy. I know there is some crazy stuff happening, but we need
to get the case set up. It shouldn't take too long. We’ll check the news again when we’re done.”

Mr. Allen, Ms. Suzy, and myself went back to work in the small, dimly lit cutting room. The three of us worked well together. I did most of the cutting and tra
ying, while Ms. Suzy wrapped the meat. Mr. Allen tended the case and would help with cutting or wrapping from time to time. Normally we would be chatting away as we worked, but not today.

I finished cutting the pork and had two racks of trayed up pork for
Ms. Suzy to wrap when I heard a loud noise coming from the front of the store; to me, it sounded like some sort of collision or crash. As Ms. Suzy and Mr. Allen rushed out of the meat department to investigate, I peeled off my meat-stained apron and followed them.

Walking to the front of the store I noticed that there were actually customers now. A few of them were also walking to the front; one man brushed my shoulder as he ran passed me.

By the time I was halfway down the cookie and cracker aisle I recognized that a vehicle of some kind had hit the front of the store, making a crack that zigzagged all the way up one of the front windows. I quickly went outside and saw a group of people gathered around a green passenger van. An elderly lady, who looked almost too old to still be driving, was being helped out of the vehicle.

I noticed Katie, one of our front end managers, was standing next to me, staring at the cracked window. “Did you see what happened here, Hank?”

“No.”

“I did -- I was out here taking a
smoke and saw her pull into the parking lot in a hurry. She seemed not to be able to stop and crashed into the window.” she said.

Suddenly, another police car flew down the road with sirens blazing. Its wheels screeched as it passed a slower car that had
a hard time getting out of the way. In only a few seconds it was out of sight. Katie looked at me with wide eyes, her long dirty blonde hair blowing in her face.

“I tried to call 9/11. But it’s saying all circuits are busy -- it looks like the cops are all
over the place,” said Katie.

We watched Mr. Humphries help the old lady into the store. She seemed shaken, but didn’t appear to have any major injuries.

“Katie, did you hear about the crazy stuff happening this morning? I mean the murder on Old Lake Road and the other attacks?” I asked.

“Yes, they were talking about them on the news this morning. My sister didn’t want me to come into work today -- she thought it wasn’t safe.
She’s freaked out, big time. She keeps texting me and telling me to come home.”

B
ack inside the store Mr. Humphries had dragged an office chair out from behind the customer service desk for the old lady to sit on. Her short white hair was sticking up in places and her face looked grim, as she sipped on a bottle of water. He asked her if she was hurt, and she nodded her head.

“I’m alright, I’m alright.”

She looked up at me and Katie and pointed outside. “Something’s not right out there.”

I recognized her, and remembered her name. She used
to be a frequent customer, back when I worked in produce.

“What’s going on out there, Mrs. Burkhalter?”

Mr. Humphries looked at me like he didn’t really want me talking to her, but at that point I didn’t care. Something truly odd, and very dangerous was taking place, and I wanted more information

“There are these people walking around my neighborhood. They were just meandering around in the middle of the street. They didn’t look normal. One of them saw me and started banging on my door. I called for the
police, but no one answered. I tried to hide, but when one of them smashed my window I ran to my garage, got in my car, and left. It scared me so bad.”

She looked at Mr. Humphries and started crying, “I’m so sorry for hitting your store. I didn’t mean to
. I’m just all nerves and I just couldn’t stop.”

Mr. Humphries told her not to worry about it, and that he was only concerned about her well-being at the moment. I wanted to talk to her more, but I noticed that everyone else except Katie had walked away.

The radio. I had to turn it back on. I walked back to the meat department, and a small crowd of employees were huddled around it, listening intently.

Things had gotten worse.

Far worse.

The man on the radio seemed uneasy as he spoke.

“The Sandy Hills police department is now instructing all residents to stay indoors. Let me repeat, according to the memo I am reading, all residents are to stay indoors until the current crisis is resolved. They’re urging people not to go on the road, and if you’re away from home, to find a secure indoor location.”

After a sigh he continued, “I do not know exactly what is happening, but as we reported earlier...”

Before I could finish listening to what he had to say, the bell rang. A customer needed service at the meat counter.

A short middle-aged woman with a pudgy face was holding up a package of flank steaks that had slightly darkened. “Can you mark this down for me? I think it has some age on it. You see, right here, it’s ready to be reduced,” she said.

Another cherry picker looking for a discount.

All I could do was let my training take over; my first week of indoctrination with this company taught me the customer was “always” right, unless a manager says otherwise.

I was about to politely agree to reduce the price when I heard some thuds, and then a crash coming from the dairy department on the other side of the store.

I excused myself to the beyond-pleasantly-plump customer, and walked quickly towards aisle thirteen.

I stopped in my tracks as I saw someone whose identity and appearance stunned me. It was Fred Long. He used to be my assistant Little League baseball coach years ago, when I was a teenager. But right now, he was a crazed, black eyed beast.

He’d
knocked down a display of bottled ice cream toppings that were all over the floor. With every wave of his arms, as he staggered down the aisle, he continued to knock over product in his path. I was still in shock as Mindy, the dairy clerk, walked through the stockroom door.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, upon seeing Fred.

Hearing her voice, he started lurching towards us. Mindy ran back through the double doors to the stockroom, screaming, as I started  slowly walking backwards. Fred let out a snarl as I tried to communicate with him.

“Hi, Fred, I’m Hank. You know me. Just try to stay calm . . .” My words only enticed him, and he lunged towards me.

I saw a large dust mop in the corner and without hesitation I grabbed it, pointing the shaggy bottom of it towards the creature.

Wham!

In what seemed like only a millisecond, I was forcefully shoved on the shoulder and fell backwards through the stockroom doors. Hitting the hard floor knocked the breath right out of me, and before I could get my first gasp of air, I heard a gunshot.

 
Chapter 2

My ears were still ringing when I managed to pull myself off the ground. The gunshot had been very loud. Trying to recover my breath, I slowly got on my feet. As I did so, the doors opened and a tall,
heavy set police officer came in.

“Sorry about that, but I had to take care of that guy,” he said as he held the door open. “Come on, there’s a meeting.”

“What meeting?” I barely managed to ask. I was still not breathing full breaths, and felt as though I may have cracked a rib.

“Just come on!” he said loudly. Mr. Allen, Ms. Suzy, and Katie were standing not too far behind him. Only a few feet away from them, Fred’s dead body lay on the ground. A bullet hole was clearly visible in his forehead.

“Come on,” said the officer, walking quickly to the front of the store. We followed him to where Mr. Humphries was waiting there along with several employees and a number of customers. I noticed that Bobby, the day bagger, was blocking one of the two entrances with grocery carts.

The officer stood next to a display of soft drinks as he spoke.

“As I told some of you earlier, before I had to take care of the situation in the back room, my name is Officer Harvey. I don’t have a lot of time, so I’ll be brief. I’ve been ordered to go to every store and business in this town, and tell everyone to stay put. There are people out there that have gone insane, nuts, or something -- we don’t know why. They’re very violent and hard as heck to subdue. I know this is going to sound crazy, but the only way we have found to stop them is to shoot them in the head.”

“So you want us to believe
they’re zombies out there? Give me a break!” blurted out Jill, the deli-bakery manager.

“Don’t you dare call them
zombies! I didn’t say they were zombies. There is no such thing as zombies except in the movies!”

“What are they then?” Katie asked.

“We don’t know what these things are! I’m just here to give you the facts, help secure this building, and get back out there.”

Mr. Humphries walked o
ff to the office while making a call on his phone.

“Here is what I know. First, these creatures don’t seem to have very good vision. They seem to be attracted to sound, so don’t make a racket in here! Second,
they’re slow, but very strong. This means do not get in a hand-to-hand fight with one of them. Finally, if anyone in here happens to have a firearm, always aim for the head.”

“This is bull, I’m not staying here. I’m going home,” said a customer.

“What is your name?” the officer asked.

“Larry, Larry R
oach,” he answered.

“Well Larry, look outside for a moment,” he responded.

The officer pointed towards two people slowly meandering in the parking lot. “Well, if you want to leave, be ready to outrun them or kill them. You better be ready, because if you’re not, then you’re their lunch.”

Looking closely at the people outside
they looked like something from a horror movie. The one closest to the window was a tall woman with blood stains running down the front of her yellow shirt. She seemed to be walking in circles, not far from my truck. Sadly, it looked like she may have already had her lunch. The other was a bald headed man who was hobbling down the side of the road. His flailing arms looked like Fred’s and it was clear -- even from that distance -- he was one of them.

Larry
didn’t say another word.

Officer Harvey spoke up. “It looks like there are two things you all need to do. This cracked window is probably not going to hold up much longer. The whole front of the store needs to be secured.”

After that comment it seemed the crack in the window was larger than before. I didn’t know if it was in my imagination, or reality.

He continued. “Also, you need to call your family members or anyone that might be concerned for you, and tell them not to come here.
Not matter what. Tell them to stay home, and if they’re not home to find the closest secure location they can find.”

Suddenly, I remembered I
hadn’t called my mother. By this time she was probably getting ready for work at the local library. If I called right now I may be able to catch her before she left for work.

“I’m outta here.
I’ll try to swing back by later on if things calm down. Good luck,” the officer said before he exited through the one door that hadn’t yet been blocked off with grocery carts.

I quickly took my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed my mom’s number. There was no answer. I tried to call again, but it only went to her voicemail.

On the third failed attempt, I left her a message, “Mom, it’s me. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. If you get this message and haven’t left for work yet please stay home. It isn’t safe to go out. Lock all the doors and do not go outside. There are crazy people roaming the streets that are attacking people. I’ll try to make it home when it is safe for me to do so. If you have already left for work please just find a safe place and stay there. Do not try to come here to get me. I’m safe here at work. Call me when you get this. I love you. Bye.”

As I looked around a few other people were also making phone calls. I considered the situation for a moment. It was time to go into survival mode.

Mr. Humphries was still in his office, and we were all standing around aimlessly. We needed to get to work and secure the front of the store. Those “things” were in the street and parking lot, and it wouldn’t take a lot for them to break the window and get inside.