Z-Day: Load Up ~ Part 2

Word Count: 2433

Jerry looked out the window into a large store plaza down the hill from the road. A few cars littered the parking lot below. A large crowd of the crazies were gathered under the green sign that read Dick's Sporting Goods. “They don't usually group up like that unless they think there is something for them to eat,” Jerry said. “You don't think someone is trapped inside there do you?”

“One way to find out.” Roy turned the wheel and drove them down the hill toward the store. Jerry grabbed his shotgun and made sure that he had a shell in the chamber. Roy ran through the outermost edge of them hitting several with the Humvee. The bodies rolled and flipped through the air from the impact like they were gymnasts. It reminded Jerry of the floor routines during the Olympics that he used to watch with Katherine when they came on. Making the wide turn to head back they plowed through the middle of them. Jerry could see through the crowd that there was a young man staring at them from inside of the store.

“I see someone in there,” Jerry said.

“Looks like we're going shopping.” Roy turned the wheel hard enough that the back of the Humvee spun around and knocked away several of the crazies. Roy pulled himself up onto the roof and started to fire shot after shot into the shambling bodies that were coming after them. Jerry started blasting the few crazies that were still beating on the glass. The young man that he had seen inside, wearing a green vest, started to remove the small blockade that had been built up to keep out the crazies. Inside he could hear someone screaming at the teenager for trying to open the door. “Tell them to fucking hurry! I'm starting to run low on ammo!”

Jerry ran up to the door and beat his fist against it. “Come on! Open the door!” A man dressed in a white collared shirt and a crimson tie came into view. The white shirt did little to hide the large belly that he had, probably from sitting in his office all day long. “What the fuck is the matter with you?! Open the damn door!” The manager held up one finger to Jerry, like there wasn't a life or death situation going on just on the other side of the glass before continuing to berate the teenager in front of him.

“Jerry! Last magazine!” Roy yelled backing away from the Humvee. Jerry could see several other people coming into view of the windows; but the one that got his attention first was a giant of a man that strode over to the managerial worker and shoved him out of the way. The manager reeled back, crashing into a display of balls from every sport one could think of. They came crashing down on him in an almost cartoonish fashion as he covered his head with his arms. The bodybuilder, that tore down the barrier in one pull, looked like he could have been a young Arnold Schwarzenegger. Heavy built and toned muscle covered every inch of the man save for his right leg, which was missing. In it's place was a high end prosthetic that he seemed to have mastered the use of. Had he been wearing long pants, Jerry never would have known that the man was missing his leg at all. Jerry blew the head off of a crazy that was running in a dead sprint for Roy before the two of them rushed inside.

Trying to close the door, a crazy lunged up and placed his arm between the door and the frame that would keep it closed. He was wearing the remains of an expensive three piece suit. One of those suits that you had to purchase in separate pieces and the price tag of each was enough to make you have a heart attack at first glance. His pink stained teeth gnashing on the other side of the clear glass in an attempt to get the at the meal that was being dangled in front of him. He grasped about frantically, with one finger broken and tilted off in an unnatural direction, trying to pull one of the people inside to its mouth to begin feeding. “Hold him back!” Jerry said to Roy and the one legged man as he rushed across the isle and leapt over the counter. Ripping a camping hatchet off of the wall he used a nearby box cutter to tear through the plastic packaging that covered the bladed head. Rushing back he started hacking at the arm like a mad man, splattering blood all over his already blood covered shirt. He could feel the warm spray dotting his skin and clothing until the arm suddenly dropped, and the door closed with a solid click. The crazy, who had just lost his arm, continued to beat his now bloody stump against the glass. The shattered bone scratching against the glass and the blood smeared around like a three year old's finger painting. Stacking the barricade of chairs, sports equipment, and a canoe into place, Jerry and Roy sat down catching their breath. Jerry looked at the small hatchet that he still held in a tight grip, the head completely coated in blood. He grabbed the sleeve of a nearby toppled over mannequin and wiped it clean. He slid the smooth handle through his belt, adding it to his collection of weapons.

“I don't know who you think you are,” the manager said, poking the one legged man in his well toned chest, “but this is 'my' store and 'I' decide when the doors get opened. If you want to go all cowboy you can just get the hell out.”

“What the hell is your problem man?” Jerry said standing up. “You saw that we were out there and you were just gonna leave us there to die.”

“I wasn't leaving you out there. I was remaining professional.”

“Professional!?”

“Yes, I was addressing one of my workers about how he needed to come talk to me first before opening the door. Then I was going to let you in.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! What delusion are you living in?!” Jerry was about ready load his last shell into the shotgun and blow the manager to kingdom come until Roy placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. The manager just brushed off the confrontation and retreated to his office, where he closed the door.

Roy looked to the one legged man and held out his hand. “Thanks. We wouldn't have survived much longer if you hadn't helped,” he said.

“Leave no man behind,” the one legged man responded. “I'm Vincent, former marine corps. The dick in the collared shirt is Ben. The guy who tried to open the door the first time was Jake.”

Jerry walked over to Jake and held out his hand. The freckle covered red head took the hand offered to him and gave a firm shake. “Thanks for your help,” Jerry said.

“I'll introduce you to everyone else in our little group here. The other two in green vests are Adam and Beth. The Hispanic lady there we've been calling Jane, like Jane Doe, and her baby,” Vincent said.

“Is her name difficult to pronounce or something?” Jerry asked.

“No... there's just a small issue,” he said.

“¿Usted sabe que está dos putos idiotas derecho?” Jane said quickly.

“She doesn't speak a lick of English,” Vincent chuckled.

“Who's that over there?” Roy asked, pointing to a young woman that sat on a weight lifting bench by herself. She was dressed in a nice white sundress and her hair was styled in long waves; but, the entire image was horrifically tainted with the large spray of blood that coated the left side of her body and face.

“Her name is Julie. She hasn't said anything other than that. Of course, I don't blame her. Those freaks came out of nowhere and her family was out in the parking lot. She watched as they killed her mother, father, and younger brother. If I hadn't grabbed her and dragged her inside she would've been killed too.” Jerry felt a pain in his chest as he heard what happened to Julie. “We've been trying to snap her out of it; but, I don't think she's gonna come around any time soon.”

“Damn,” Roy said, “the whole fucking world has gone to hell.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. You guys are welcome to rest here with us. We just grab a few sleeping bags and blow up mattresses from the camping section. There are snack foods at the front and some preserved stuff in the hiking area.”

“I hate to break it to you, but we can't stay here and neither can you,” Roy said.

“I know, eventually we'll run out of food; but, what else can we do? Your Humvee was the toughest thing that we could have used to bust out of here.”

“Well, I'm pretty sure that's no longer an option,” Jerry commented as he looked to their old vehicle, crawling with the crazies that demanded entry.

“There's nothing else here that we could use?” Roy asked.

“There's a supply truck in the loading dock,” Beth said. “It's not very big though. Maybe the size of a bread truck.”

“Big enough for all of us to fit,” Roy said. “Why haven't you tried using it?”

“The dock has about ten crazies in it,” Vincent stated. “I can't take them on my own and no one here can fight well enough to keep from getting killed.”

“Now there's three of us,” Jerry said.

Vincent smiled. “You guys seem to know what you're doing. You take point.”

“Get some of those large hiking bags and fill them with food, water, and ammo from the gun case,” Roy said as the teenage workers rushed off to get the supplies.

“Getting the ammo will prove difficult. The glass is pretty well bullet proof and the only one with a key is Ben, and he refuses to let anyone near it.”

“Let me have a talk with him,” Roy said, weaving through the displays of hunting clothes and sports equipment.

“Well, while he's doing that maybe you would like to get changed out of that stuff,” Vincent said leading Jerry to a rack of rather plain clothes. “Sturdy and fitting.” Jerry nodded as he unclipped the vest that he was wearing and pulled off his blood soaked business clothes. Finding his size on the rack, he pulled on some tan work jeans and a red flannel shirt. Vincent came back dropping off four boxes holding boots of different sizes. “I gave a guess at your size. These are really good. They last for a long time.” Jerry pulled out the almost military style boot that was covered in camouflage for hunting.

“We're in business,” Roy said tossing the keys to Vincent.

“How'd you get them?”

“I put a gun in his face and said either he gives me the keys or I give him a bullet,” Roy said. “Works every time.”

Filling four duffel bags full of ammo the group set them by the back door. “When we get in the dock, keep your gunfire to a minimum. These things will just be drawn to it.”

Jane came running over, her baby strapped to her back and sleeping soundly. “¡Esas cosas se están rompiendo a través del vidrio!” she exclaimed in a panicked tone and tugged roughly on Vincent's arm, pulling him to the front. The mob of crazies at the front had multiplied so much that the few closest to the glass were being crushed by the ones at the back as they tried to reach their meals on the other side. The clear barrier that kept the crazies out was starting to crack from the weight being put against it.

“We need to leave. Now,” Roy said.

“Well, me and my employees are staying here,” Ben said walking out. “This is my store and I am responsible for keeping my workers safe.” He strode out between the glass front and the group that had assembled to see the mob outside.

“I don't know if you've noticed,” Jerry said, “but it's the end of the fucking world out there. Your manager job and procedures no longer exists.”

“Ben, we really need to get out of here,” Beth said, worried.

“You can't hold us prisoner here,” Adam said, acting like he was gonna fight his way out.

“I am the manager! While you are in my store you will obey my authority!” Ben demanded.

“I don't give a fuck if your the Queen of England! We're leaving. If you wanna stay that's your choice,” Roy said. The glass in the front door suddenly shattered and grasping hands reached in pulling Ben back by his shirt. Roy and Vincent ran forward grabbing his legs and tried to pull him back into the store. Ben screamed in terror as he fought to get free from clammy hands that gripped him tight. Those seeking hands held him arched over the barrier that the group had moved into place and several more reached around his bloated belly. The fingers clawed at his shirt and stomach before they slowly ripped through his skin and began tearing his stomach open with a splash of blood and entrails falling out onto the tiled floor. The mob grabbed for the bloody intestines and pulled them back to feast on their meal. Roy and Vincent stepped away before they were pulled out with Ben and started firing into the mob. “Get to the dock! Now!” Roy yelled.

Jerry was the first to the door and took a moment to calm himself before he tore open the door. A delivery man, still full dressed in his uniform and hat, was waiting for him. Pulling the trigger, Jerry sent the spray of pellets through the delivery man's legs. Loading another cartridge, he removed half of the delivery man's head. He started blowing away the crazies as they came at him. I'm surprised how easy this is now, he thought.

Having nothing to lose gives you certain freedoms, the voice in his head said.

To Be Continued...