Suspending Reality (22 page)

“This isn’t good!” Claire said.

“Don’t worry,” Jackie said. “Val gave me a gun, so we’ll be okay.”

“I hope you’re right,” Claire said. She peeked around an aisle, then gasped.

I followed her line of vision, and my own breath caught in my throat. “There’re so many of them. That gun of yours better be a dead aimer…and I mean that literally.”

We moved forward at a snail’s pace, careful not to draw any unwanted attention. About twenty zombies stumbled around aimlessly, knocking over boxes and cans as they rummaged through the stock, looking for any kind of raw meat.

We were almost halfway down the aisle when a zombie’s gaze fell upon me. I forced myself to remain calm, even though my whole body screamed to run. “Nick!” I nudged my brother harder than intended. “We’re outnumbered. How are we ever gonna get out of here?”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me down the aisle where we hid behind a giant display.

“We need a distraction,” Jackie said.

Nick glanced around, as if pondering. “Flour,” he finally said. “And it’s not for baking a cake.”

“Brilliant idea. We can cover them in the stuff,” Claire said.

“Perfect distraction,” I said. “I saw flour too.”

“Where?” Claire said.

Without giving her an answer, I darted a few aisles over, flashing my light on the overhanging signs until I found the right isle. I turned left and started frantically looking until I found it. Just as I snagged a package, a zombie’s hand burst through the shelf opening from the other side, grabbing my arm and startling me. My gun clattered to the floor, next to a cellophane bag of broken plastic forks.

Through the shining beam of my flashlight, I looked through the gap, and I saw the zombie’s white, lifeless, hungry eyes. My heart lurched. I knew if the thing broke my skin, I’d be in as much trouble as Val. I tried to wiggle my hand free, but it had amazing strength and just tightened its grip, pulling while rattling the shelf. I feared it might draw the attention of the other undead late-night shoppers, but my main concern was freeing my arm without sustaining a wound. I prayed it wouldn’t scratch or bite me with its jagged teeth, because I knew that would be more fatal than any saliva dropping on my skin. With my free hand, I tried to hit it with my flashlight over and over again, until my arm hurt, but still the thing wouldn’t let go.

Footsteps rushed behind me, and my heart raced. A zombie?
How am I supposed to fight while this thing’s got a hold of me?
I glanced over my shoulder and saw it wasn’t a zombie. It was only Claire. She was hurrying over to me, holding her stun gun. I bit my lip hard as she stunned the corpse’s arm. When it released its cold grasp, I yanked my arm free. “Thank you, Claire! I so owe you.”

“Did it get you?” she whispered.

I ran my hands over my arm, fearing that I might find myself in the same predicament as Val. “No blood,” I said, letting out a huge sigh of relief. When I suddenly heard footsteps, my gaze jerked up.

“It’s okay,” Claire said. “It’s only the others.”

Nick carried Val securely in his arms. “Grab as many bags as you can!”

We all went to work and started grabbing bags of flour. I was pretty sure Nick hadn’t seen my little ‘shelf battle’ with the zombie and I wasn’t about to say anything at the moment. There was no time for lectures. Carrying the sacks, we sped down the aisle.

“Our goal is to confuse them, to distract them!” Nick whispered, setting down Val.

We clambered to the top of the shelves and opened the bags. When we threw them, flour spewed everywhere. I coughed from the blanket of white sifting through the air, but our plan seemed to work: The zombies hissed and started to stumble around like big, clumsy idiots, and it looked as if they were completely disoriented from the flour fog we’d created.

“Run now!” yelled Nick, jumping down and scooping up Val.

Nick and Claire darted off ahead of Jackie and me. We were right behind them when an avalanche of cans and boxes tumbled over my head. The shelves had collapsed right down on us, probably from the weight of so many zombies filling the store. I gripped Jackie’s hand tightly, peering through the smog of flour. It appeared as if Nick, Val, and Claire had made it out okay, but I hadn’t.
Murphy’s Law. Go figure.
I glanced helplessly at all the zombies flooding in through the doorway.

“We’ll have to find a different way out,” Jackie whispered.

I glanced at the zombies flooding in through the doorway and realized we definitely couldn’t use the main entrance. From what I had seen so far, the only other way out was the back, where the zombies were gathered.
Crap!
We’re so screwed.

Chapter 12

From outside, the grocery store had seemed deserted, even peaceful, but there was nothing peaceful about the place. Unfortunately, we had to discover that tiny detail after following Val inside, and now we were trapped. The countless growls and moans cutting through the night made my skin tingle, and my brain was working overtime as I tried to figure out a way to make it out alive. Nick, Val, and Claire had made it out of the store, but Jackie and I were still trapped inside, and it didn’t look like we were going to be able to come up with an exit strategy before the zombies noticed our presence. One had already spotted me, and with more flooding in through the front by the minute, the place would grow crowded soon. My heart was already drumming in my ears, and I was sure that if I could hear its terrified
thump-thump
so loud and clear, the zombies would hear it too. It was only a matter of time.

I bit my lip as I glanced around the darkness, then pointed to a high window way over to the right.

Jackie nodded in silent agreement, then took off in the right direction.

Our shoes barely made a sound on the tile floor as we zigzagged through a few aisles and finally made it to the horizontal window, then stopped to peer around. Long shelves filled with cans jutted out of the wall.

Giving Jackie’s hand a last squeeze, I stepped on one of the rickety bottom shelves and pulled myself up to the next horizontal surface. “C’mon!” I whispered. It was difficult to shimmy up it without knocking off any of the merchandise with my feet, but we couldn’t risk making any noise. The last thing I wanted to do was give away my location to the army of the undead. I placed a foot on the hard surface and held on to the metal rod, then heaved myself up. My clothes made a chafing sound that wouldn’t have been noticeable under normal circumstances, but nothing about our circumstances was normal. I held my breath and peered around me, trying to determine if we’d been spotted. The zombies went about their business, fighting and hissing over a slice of foul-smelling meat. Letting out my breath, I tested the shelf with my leg. When I realized it was strong enough to support me, I moved up to the next level, then stopped again when the shelf trembled. A few cans knocked against each other; two or three rolled to the side, but didn’t drop to the ground.
Thank God!
I knew if I could keep it that way, we might just stand a chance. The last thing I wanted to die over was a can of black-eyed peas.

Using the shelf as a ladder to reach the top, I climbed up slowly but steadily, taking one step at a time. I was almost up when one of the cans clattered to the ground, the sound reverberating from the walls. Crap! Suddenly, a few zombie heads snapped in our direction, causing my breath to catch in my throat. I prayed their interest wouldn’t be piqued but, as usual, luck wasn’t on my side. Hurrying as fast as I could, my legs on fire, I dashed up, then reached down to help Jackie. I wrapped my hand around her thin arm to pull her up, and once she reached the top, we glanced down. Because of my fumbling cans fiasco, zombies had spotted us and headed in our direction.

Jackie unlocked the window. We pushed and pulled as hard as we could, our arms straining as we forced the latch, but it was painted shut and refused to budge. I reached for my gun but it wasn’t there and I knew it must’ve fallen out when the shelves collapsed on us.

“Give it another push!” I yelled. “On three!” I began to count, and then hurled my whole weight forward, to no avail. My heart began to race again. I got on my knees and reached down for anything we could use to bust the window or knock the latch off. My hands wrapped around a can of spaghetti sauce, the mushroom variety. It was a bit small, but the edges were sharp enough to do the trick. “Cover your face!” I said to Jackie.

“No need,” she said, sliding out her gun from her holster. Pulling the trigger, the window shattered with a boom, glass spraying outside onto the gravel below. The shelves started to wobble as zombies began to rock them from below, and Jackie fell back with a loud yelp.

I quickly grabbed her around the waist to steady her, while holding on to the railing with my other arm. “Wrap your arm around my neck,” I shouted through the moaning noise below. When Jackie reached up, I scooped her into my arms and held her tightly against me, then kicked out the rest of the window while Jackie kicked the shelf over. Her body was still pressed against me as we teetered on the edge of the windowsill, dangerously close to the floor below and the hands reaching up to grab us and tear us into tasty, bloody morsels. With a loud
thud
, the shelf crashed on top of the zombies.

I peered out into the night, exasperated. There were no trees to shimmy down, no ladder, no rope, and nothing to aid our descent. Only after leaning out did I notice that directly underneath us, there was a tall dumpster with flat, open doors on the top and metal sliding doors on the side. “We’ve gotta jump,” I said.

Without hesitation, Jackie climbed out and took the plunge.

I followed right after and fell into a giant pile of black bags. I could hear the plastic crinkling beneath me a moment before the reek of rotten eggs hit my nostrils and made me gag. Pushing up, I struggled to grip something hard without spreading the garbage and smell all over me. When I finally managed to sit up, I realized the only thing that wasn’t covered in trash were parts of my face. “Are you okay?” I whispered, looking around for Jackie, who’d disappeared into the abyss of garbage.

She popped up and peered over a few bags. “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

I nodded, even though I couldn’t tell whether she could see anything in the pitch black.

“See anything?” she continued.

The moon cast a glow over city buildings, and graffiti-covered walls stretching into the distance. To the left of a broken lamp post, I noticed a long alley strewn with garbage. My gaze scanned the area for any suspicious movement, but everything remained silent. “The coast is clear,” I whispered to Jackie.

The loud rustling of plastic bags next to Jackie startled me. Then, a green, rotting hand burst from the boxes and tried to clench the air. My heart lurched. I felt around the trash looking for anything I could get my hands on. All I could find were empty boxes that wouldn’t even smash a fly, let alone fight off a zombie.

The oversized container shook slightly on its wheels as the zombie fought its way through the trash and sprung toward Jackie, snapping its jaws. She whipped out her gun and shot it straight in the forehead. Dark liquid squirted everywhere, and the zombie fell sideways. Jackie scrambled up.

I was right behind her, so I helped her climb over the edge of the dumpster, and then followed. “Which way should we go?” I whispered as I scanned my surroundings.

“Let’s circle around. Maybe we’ll find Nick and Claire…and your sister.”

Before I could even answer, I heard a moan and spun around. I gasped. More zombies had spotted us and shuffled in our direction. Jackie aimed her gun, but we both realized there were too many and we wouldn’t stand a chance. With my heart pounding, I gripped her hand, and we turned around. “C’mon!” We took off down the alley, and I spied the perfect getaway vehicle, an abandoned motorcycle. Nick had taught me how to ride his motorcycle ages ago. I was a pro and could handle this with no problem. “Think it runs?” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the zombies weren’t gaining on us. Luckily for us, they were slower than turtles, and they were still a good distance away, but I wanted to get out of there before they caught up.

“It won’t even start without keys,” Jackie said, searching for them in the darkness.

It would have been far too easy for them to have been left in the ignition
, I supposed. I glanced down and noticed a leather coat lying on the sidewalk in a bloody heap. I was about to open my mouth to say something about it, but before I could, she had followed my line of vision and was poking her foot into the heap. Bending down, she felt the pockets and pulled out a set of dangling keys. I prayed one of them would start the bike. I hopped on, she hopped on behind me, and I slid the most appropriate-looking key in the ignition. There was a
click
, but the motorcycle wouldn’t start. Beads of sweat rolled down my face.

“Try again!” yelled Jackie. “They’re getting closer.”

“I am!” I said, wondering why the thing wouldn’t cooperate. With a terrified glance over my shoulder, I tried one last time. The engine spluttered for a moment, but then it finally started! We sped down the alley, my heart racing. I had always dreamt of riding a magnificent Harley with a beautiful girl, the blasting gusts of wind whipping through our hair. Of course, I’d pictured it more on a highway, not in a back-alley labyrinth, in the middle of the night, with zombies hot on our tailpipes.