Don't Dare Call Them Zombies : Books 1-4 (3 page)

BOOK: Don't Dare Call Them Zombies : Books 1-4
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“Alright everyone,” I spoke loudly. “We need to get these windows and doors sec
ured. Any ideas on the best way to board them up?”

“There are a bunch of pallets in the stockroom. We could use them. There are hammers and nails in the utility room,” said Juanita, one of our checkers.

For the next few hours we all, employees and customers alike, worked to secure the store. Everyone except for a few of the women, and Mr. Humphries, who was oddly absent, helped out. Unfortunately, the pounding of nails and the noise were making had attracted a few more of the “things” outside. Their thumping and clawing on the glass windows and doors had started to become truly terrifying.

A few of the customers
couldn’t stand the sight of them and went to the back of the store to the break room. I couldn’t blame them. These creatures simply didn’t look like human beings any more. Their pupils were dilated, and they growled like animals.

In fact, they looked dead. I remembered what my grandmother had looked like after two weeks in the hospital with pneumonia.
 Her skin had grown pale and clammy. Shortly before her death her skin looked almost plastic. These creatures looked similar, but far, far worse.

We were almost finished boarding up the last window when I heard a short black-haired customer who was assisting us
ask, “What should we call these things? Are they really zombies?”

Mr. Allen interjected, “No,
they’re not zombies. I don’t know what they are, but I’m not going to call them that.”

“We need something to call them,” I said while
hammering in a nail while a ghoulish looking face peered at me through the glass.

“They’re freaks, so that’s what I am going to call them,” said Melanie, a college student who worked part-time.

“That’s good enough for me,” said Richard, the produce manager.

“Me too,” said Mr. Humphries who had appeared out of nowhere.

“I have been making phone calls. The head office has told me to make sure none of those freaks get in here,” he said with a red face.

“Do you think these boards will hold, Richard?” Mr. Hump
hries asked.

“I hope once
we’re done here and stop making noise they may give up on trying to get in,” said Richard. “I don’t think these boards could stop a large group of them from getting inside if the glass breaks.”

Mr. Humphries walked off again.

“Richard, do you mind staying up here for a while? I need to go listen to the radio and find out what’s happening” I said.

“Go ahead.”

I started walking towards the back of the store. My mother came to mind again, and I pulled out my primitive pre-paid phone. I tried once again to call her, but now I couldn’t even get a ring tone.

Walking into the crowded break room, I could see that someone had dragged out the TV that used to be in the children’s theater. I worked my way around a few customers to try and get
a good view. A local anchor from a nearby city was warning people to stay inside. He described how chaos was breaking out across the entire nation. No one knew exactly what was happening, but something had made ordinary people start turning violent and start eating flesh of their victims.

He said they had received news that the President of the United States was about to declare a national emergency. Apparently the number of attacks was increasing by the hour. The Centers for Disease Control had also issu
ed a warning to avoid contact with the violent individuals, because it appeared that whatever had induced their madness was transmissible.

What appeared next on the screen was truly unnerving.

Their camera man had gone on the roof of their building and made a video of their surroundings. Unlike Grocery World, which was located on a fairly unpopulated stretch of road, their building was located in the middle of a city.

Hundreds of freaks filled the streets
surrounding their building. About a dozen were surrounding a body that was lying on the ground. The cameraman zoomed in to show how they were ripping apart the corpse. As he panned around the surroundings we saw buildings on fire and clouds of smoke rising in the distance.

The people surrounding me in the break room were in a state of shock. Some were crying; others were dumbstruck. The seriousness of the situation was becoming increasingly clear. I stood there almost unable to believe what I was seeing.

A few gunshots rang out in the distance as the recording ended, and the news anchor started to speak. “Kathy has just handed me this. It’s a bulletin from the Department of Homeland Security.”

Before we hear another word the power went out. I heard a few s
creams along with cursing as the room went dark. I needed to do something.

“Calm down everyone.” I stated loudly. “We just need to start the backup generator. Who here knows how to do that?”

“I know how. It’s simple,” Mr. Allen said. “But we need to get Mr. Humphries’ key to get into the utility room to turn it on.”

“I’m going to find Mr. Humphries,” I said.

A few people started to follow me.

“Everyone, we do not need to panic. Please just stay in here. The power will be back on very soon. I’ll be right ba
ck,” I said.

Mr. Allen had started speaking to the remaining people in the room I walked out. Although the stockroom was dark, there was just enough light to walk around thout too much fear of falling over anything. I walked towards the back office. It wa
s a room technically supposed to be used by the scanning coordinator and any visiting inventory control specialists. However, Mr. Humphries also used it as a second office. I was guessing he may be in there.

I was right.

I walked to the door and called out to Mr. Humphries. There was no response, but I heard something from inside. I peered into the pitch black darkness. I heard a voice.

“I’m here,” Mr. Humphries said.

“We need your key to get into the utility room so we can turn on the backup generator.” I said while noticing the smell of alcohol. “Will you come help us?”

I then felt the impact of something on my chest. It fell to the ground and from the jingling sound I knew
he’d tossed me his keys.

“Take them,” he said.

“Are you alright?” I responded as I tried to get a better look into the room.

He stood up and walked closer to me. Due to the total blackness of the back office I could barely see him. I took a step backwards, reached down, and picked up the keys.

“Are you alright?” I repeated. “We need your help. Things have gotten very bad outside. All hell is breaking loose. We have to keep everyone calm and keep the store secured, and right now we have to get the backup generator going.”

“Before the phones went dead I got a call from my wife. She’s
. . .” he paused for a moment.


She’s probably dead,” he continued. “Oh, God,” he moaned.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I was on the phone with her and she was telling me about the people walking around outside. She said one of them had made it inside. The next thing I hear is the sound of screams and growls,” he said.

“I don’t know what to say, I’m very sorry, sir.” I stated in a low voice. His story made me think of my mother. I hoped that she was okay. My mind drifted for a moment, but then I remembered
about the generator.

“I’m going to try and get the generator running with or without you. Are you able to come with me?” I asked.

“I’m . . . let me . . . not now. Just go.” he muttered.

I turned and walked back down to the end of the hallway.

“Mr. Allen, I have the keys!” I called out loudly. I would need his help to turn on the generator.

“I’m coming. Hold up.” I heard him say from behind me.

We had made it to the generator door when I heard another voice call out my name.

A bright light beam
ed down the hallway. Someone had found a flashlight. The bright light almost blinded me.

“Hank, get to the front of the store! There are some people out there. They want to come inside,” the voice exclaimed. I quickly recognized that it was Ms. Patty talki
ng to me. I handed the keys to Mr. Allen and told Ms. Patty to stay and help him.

I quickly ran to the front of the store, trying hard not to trip on anything in the darkness. I could hear a woman’s voice outside. “Let us in! Please! We have to get inside
. These things are everywhere!”

I heard gunshots. First
one, and then two more in quick succession. Bobby, Ms. Suzy, and Richard were standing near the door. Bobby and Richard were in the process of moving buggies away. Ms. Suzy was shouting at them to stop.

“Those freaks are out there! If we open that door they could get inside. We can’t take that risk! Don’t you hear me? Stop! Stop!” she yelled frantically.

I heard a man’s voice outside. “Let us in! Come on, hurry up, I’m running out of ammo!” he yelled.

I turned and looked at Ms. Suzy as she continued to yell at Bobby and Richard. The narrow beams of light coming from the thin spaces between the boards we had put up allowed me to have a better look at her face. She was terrified.

“We have to let them in. They could die out there,” I told her. “I’m not willing to have that on my conscience. Are you?”

Another gunshot was fired. The entrance was almost ready to open. I could now see a man, a woman, and a child through the glass door
.

“Let’s open it and shut it fast,” I told Bobby.

With a quick look through the door to see if there were any freaks nearby, I twisted the latch and unlocked the door. We slid the automatic door open, and the family rushed inside. With a hand on her back, the man pushed his wife in first, carrying a two or three year old girl with long brown hair in her face.

The man came in next. He was short and wiry and was holding a shiny brand-new looking revolver.

Before the man could catch his breath we quickly shut and locked the door and started nailing up the boards to cover it again.

“Thank you for letting us in,” said the man breathing heavily. “I think you may have saved our lives.”

“I wasn’t willing to let you die out there,” I responded.

Suddenly, the lig
hts started coming back on. The same cheesy elevator style music started to play on the speaker system. Mr. Allen had succeeded in starting up the backup generator.

As we started putting buggies back in front of the door we could hear the moans of a freak
banging his body into the entrance.

“So what do we do now?” Richard asked.

At that moment I began to realize something important. I was being looked to as a leader. People were asking me what should be done. I didn’t feel comfortable with such a responsibility, but for the moment I had to try my best to fulfill the role. The store manager was drunk and no one else was trying to keep everything from falling apart.

“We need someone to keep a watch up here.” I said. “If any of the freaks start getting in w
e need to know.”

“I’ll stay here and watch,” Richard said.

The man we had let in was now sitting next to his wife on a bench. The woman looked traumatized as she clung tightly to her young child. I walked up to them.

“I know you two are exhausted, but if
we’re going to survive we need to get organized. There is a TV in the break room in the back of the store. We need to all head there.” I said.

“Okay.” the man stated as he looked at me. I watched as he helped his wife to her feet. They began to follow me
.

As I passed by a register I quickly realized that many customers and employees may still be wandering around the store. I grabbed the microphone at register six and called for everyone to meet in the break
room. We were going to have a meeting. There was a lot to discuss and we needed information as badly as anything else. Hopefully, the television could provide us with some kind of update on the situation.

We all began to walk towards the back of the now w
ell-lit store. Passing by a display of batteries, I realized it would be a good idea to provide flashlights to everyone. The backup generator wouldn’t run forever.

“Go on ahead to the break room.” I told the group I was walking with. “I’ll catch up. I’m
going to grab a few flashlights.”

After gathering as many flashlights from the hardware aisle as I could carry in my arms, I started walking towards the back of the store. It was then I noticed a few drops of blood on the floor. As I looked forward, I noti
ced there was a trail of the small red dots. I quickly walked ahead and saw the man and his wife ahead of me.

Then something caught my eye. I noticed that the blood I had seen on the floor was coming from the woman’s leg. A dark red spot was visible on he
r jeans just above her ankle. Could she have been bitten?

 

 

BOOK: Don't Dare Call Them Zombies : Books 1-4
8.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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