State of Decay (Omnibus (Parts 1-4)) (3 page)

I was pulling out my boxes of ammo when I realized how badly I had to go to the bathroom. Even during a zombie outbreak … when you had to go, you had to go. I shoved all my stuff back into my bag and carefully made my way back into the two stall women’s bathroom in the store. The bathroom looked eerily normal. It was still spotless and there was absolutely none of the carnage that waited just outside the doors. It was a little potty room utopia. I hurried up and did my business, afraid to dawdle too long and make some dire mistake. I grabbed two unwrapped rolls of toilet paper and stuffed them into my bag. I was pretty sure I’d be needing them once I made back to my new home in the woods.

I’d relaxed after making it into town safely, let down my guard once I’d infiltrated the freaking Starbucks successfully and I almost paid for it with my life. I’d just come out of the bathroom, feeling sorry that I couldn’t just live in the immaculate bathroom forever, when I headed around the counter to go into the back room. The zombie had probably been there the whole time and I’d never noticed him. A soon as I pushed through the swinging door to go into the back room … the zombie lunged for me. I didn’t have time to scream, I didn’t have time to dodge the attack, but somehow I managed to lift the backpack I was carrying in my arms just enough to when the zombie tried to sink his teeth into my chest, he got a mouthful of my canvas backpack instead as he knocked us both to the ground.

The back of my head ricocheted off of the swinging door as the zombie knocked me back and landed on top of me. His weight slammed the breath
out of my lungs and when I tried to suck in a much-needed inhalation of air, I got the undiluted version of zombie B. O. I swung out wildly, trying to knock the zombie off of me, to get free of the dead body that pinned me down. The zombie wasn’t going to give up easily though, he was like a mindless animal, aware his next meal had just walked right into his lair. I grabbed my backpack with my right arm and shoved with all my might as I kicked up with my feet at the same time to try and dislodge the putrid scented zombie from my body. The backpack hit the zombie directly in the face and I heard a bone crack in his nose ... the zombie, momentarily stunned, loosed his grip on me and I took advantage by kicking out once again and heaving my body upward as hard as possible.

The zombie rolled off of me and I crawled over frantically toward the recon knife that I’d dropped during the chaos and closed my fist around it and turned, still on my knees, just as the zombie lunged off the ground toward me again.  When he did, out of reflex, I thrust my knife out and caught the animated corpse right in the larynx. Unfortunately, that didn’t kill
or
stop him. I pulled my knife out with my right hand and swung my backpack with my left, knocking the zombie over again. As soon as the zombie rolled over he immediately came at me wildly, his movement more frantic and hurried. This time when I thrust my knife, it went right into his left eye and poked out of the back of his skull. The zombie stilled as blood and other rank fluids oozed out of his mouth, neck, and eye. As soon as I yanked my knife free the second time and the zombie fell with a
splat
into its own juices, I vomited and dry heaved until my stomach was completely empty.

I wiped my mouth off and got up on shaky legs. I rested my forehead on a large wall of boxes for just a moment while I got my breathing back under control. When I stepped back again, I blinked in surprise. What were the odds? There were boxes and boxes of Starbucks VIA Ready Brew stacked on top of each other … and right in front of my face was the caramel flavored ones. Those were my favorites. I snatched a box off of the shelf and used my clean, smaller knife to tear open the box. I snatched a fifty count bag out and shoved it into my pack. I even snagged a bag of the Strawberry lemonade refreshers. I figured I deserved it … especially since the zombie that had nearly just taken me out was still wearing a Starbucks employee apron. I’m pretty sure I could have sued under normal circumstances. A small, hysterical laugh burst through my lips. No time to crack up now … I needed to get a move on. I didn’t want to get stuck in town when the sun went down. I shivered and closed up my bag as I headed to the back of the store … this time I kept an eye out for anymore
zombiefied baristas as I went.

There was an old set of stairs in the very back of the store with a sign that read “employees only”. I pulled it open and went up onto the second floor. The room was large and housed a ton of boxes. I quickly made my way over to what looked like a trap door leading up to the roof. I pulled on a cord hanging from the ceiling and a set of stairs folded down. When I made it out onto the roof I knelt down and then slowly made my way
over to the front of the roof that over looked the center of town. From my vantage point on the roof, I could see that my earlier zombie estimation had been a little off. If I had to guess, I’d have said there were definitely closer to a hundred zombies that I could see … no telling how many were inside of buildings or outside of my view.

I sat my bag down and pulled out the boxes of ammo I had in my pack. I had around a hundred rounds for my M4 rifle and a lot less for my hand gun. I took out my handgun and added three more bullets to the chamber … I’d forgotten all about reloading it after I’d used it that first day. That could have gotten me killed. I sat the handgun down and loaded the M4. When I was ready, I laid down on the roof on my stomach and propped the rifle up and peered through the scope. I lined my shot up with the head of a zombie directly in the center of town. I sucked in a breath and pulled the trigger. The shot hit him in the shoulder and he barely flinched from the impact. But it did begin stirring trouble down below. The zombies all took notice and they all seemed to begin to twitch and lurch just a little bit more.

“Damn,” I muttered under my breath. I lined the shot up again and sucked in a breath, but just before I pulled the trigger I heard the soft, gentle voice my dad used to use when we went target practicing together.

“Don’t suck in your breath, Mel. Just relax and breathe in slowly. Then, as you exhale, release the bullet with your trigger finger. Let be a part of you, an extension of you and your actions and you won’t miss.”
I could almost feel his hand on my shoulder as I remembered his words. When I pulled the trigger the second time, my bullet struck true and the zombie dropped. So did the next twenty zombies.

I’d already blasted through four twenty-round magazines before I realized how many more zombies had shown up on the streets in front of me when they’d heard all the commotion. I sat up and picked up my last magazine and loaded the M4 as I took glanced around at my handy work. The streets were literally covered in bodies—finally, truly dead. Some had fallen on top of each other, creating
piles
of the undead. But, for every ten I had taken out, two more had walked out into the open. Which meant I had over forty zombies—that I could see—and only twenty bullets left. I needed to make each one count and I still didn’t like the odds. When the final body dropped to the ground, I counted exactly twenty-three zombies left. Time for part two of my genius plan. I grimaced as I crawled back over to the roof opening that led back into the store. I left my bag up on the roof as I made my way back down to the interior of the store. 

I headed straight for the front store window, trying not to think too much about what I was about to do. I stepped halfway out of the storefront window and check out the street. The closest zombie was several stores down and the furthest was quite a bit farther. I wasn’t sure how fast a zombie could move or run, so my next move really was foolish at best. I pulled out the small, hunting knife out of my pocket and slid it quickly across my left palm. I hissed as the stinging as the cut brought tears to my eyes. I jumped out of the store window and stood directly in the middle
of the street as I squeezed my hand into a tight fist, causing my blood to drip onto the asphalt.

“Hey you bunch of ugly, fuckers!” I yelled. The world’s best movie director couldn’t have choreographed the scene any better. The zombies all turned as one, their heads all swiveled in my direction like they had been attached by an invisible force. The hairs on my arms stood on end. “Yeah, you! Come get some, bitches!” I shouted as I began to back up. The zombies had already begun to shamble-run towards me … the promise of fresh meat and blood was too strong an enticement to keep them standing still. I swear to god I wanted to run … wanted to immediately, but I stood my ground as long as possible. I’ll forever have nightmares of standing in the middle of that ruined street and watching as over twenty monsters with crazed eyes and gnashing teeth came toward me. When the closest zombie was within a dozen feet of me, I turned and ran back into Starbucks. At this point, I knew I had to get back to the roof as soon as possible, or I was dead.

As soon as I cleared the window seal … I slipped. I vividly recall thinking “awe, hell!” as I scrambled off of my knees and pulled a piece of glass out of my palm. As soon as I made it around the counter I heard the first zombies fall into the front of the store.
To close, too close, too close.
I kept moving as quickly as possible, even when I heard the sound of glass crunching beneath the feet of a bunch of zombies, I kept moving to the back of the store. I wiped my palms all over the door that led to the second floor and then slammed it shut. As soon as I was halfway across the second floor, I heard the thumps and moans of the zombies just outside of the door. I sprinted for the stairs and made sure to pull them up after me as soon as I cleared the roof. I had no idea if zombie could open door or climb stairs or not, and I didn’t really want to find out. 

With a shaking hand, I pulled out my box of waterproof matches and walked over to the edge of the roof. There were zombies clamoring to get into the store directly below me.
Jesus
, I thought,
I sure would hate to fall into that
. I struck a match and stood close to the edge of the wall and let it drop. Nothing. I wiped my damp palms on my pants and struck another one … it too fizzled out before it hit the ground. I had been pretty sure that would have worked … so when I had to pick up the napkin rope I had made and drenched in lighter fluid, I was feeling a little frantic. This
had
to work … it was my last resort. I took out a match and licked my dry lips. As soon as I lit the rope it burst into flames and I screeched, barely holding onto the edge of it. I held it over the edge of the roof for a second longer and then let it go with a prayer. The flaming napkin rope hit the sidewalk right next to a zombie … and at first nothing happened. I was just about to give up and go on with the third part of my plan when the flames from the napkin caught the line of lighter fluid I’d sprayed out onto the sidewalk.

A line of fire flew into the store. I waited several breathless moments to see if my plan had been a success before smoke and flames began shooting from the front of the store. I squealed out loud like a lunatic before I clamped a hand over my own mouth. I ran over to where I had sat my
backpack and grabbed it and jerked it on. My adrenaline was kicking and I was charged and ready to get the next part of my plan over with. My mouth felt dry when I thought about what I was about to do. I walked over to the edge of building and once again peered over to the roof of the building next to the one I was standing on. It was totally doable, but that didn’t make my fear any less real. Two stories was a long way to fall when you had nothing but pavement, fire, and zombies to break your fall. I backed up several feet and tried to ignore the sounds of popping glass and zombies moaning in the distance. I had already put my knife away … if running with scissors was bad for your health, I’m pretty sure jumping from one rooftop to another with a twelve inch blade in your hand would’ve been downright lethal.

“I can do this. I can do this. I
have
to do this,” I chanted to myself. I ran full out, my legs pumping as hard as my heart and then I screamed like a girl as I catapulted myself off of the roof. I made it with plenty of room to spare and a hysterical giggle. I got up and brushed myself off and then, while I still had the nerve, jumped over to the next building, and then one more, before I stopped. The roof of the next building was too far away. I ran over to the front edge of the roof and looked back towards the Starbucks. Flames and smoke was still pouring out of the building … and to my horror, so were zombies. Zombies are terrifying. Zombies lit up like the human torch? They were petrifying. I stood there in a shocked stupor before I physically shook myself and ran to the trap door on the roof.

I pushed on the trap door, but it didn’t budge, I slammed my fists on it, but it didn’t open … I could feel that the wood was old, though, that it might give if I could just put enough pressure on it. I stepped back and brought my boot down as hard as I could on the outer edge of the boards. The vibrations of my stomp jarred my leg and my hips, and clattered my teeth together. I slammed my foot down again and again until my entire leg was numb from the strain. The boards creaked and groaned, but didn’t break. As a last ditch effort, I stood completely on the door with both feet and then with all my body weight poised above the entry, I jumped up and came back down with all my might. The ply wood broke and I fell through the opening with a resounding
CRASH
! 

Lucky for me, my backpack broke my fall, though I thought I had died from the jarring impact alone that knocked the air completely from my lungs. Unfortunately for me, I brought a piece of the wood with me when I feel. As soon as I was able to move, I sat up and reached for the six inch long piece of wood sticking out of my right thigh. I shimmied out of my backpack and sat in on the ground next to me and pulled out the small first aid kit. I opened up some gauze and medical tape and then unscrewed the small bottle that had been labeled “rubbing alcohol”. With the gauze in my mouth and the alcohol in my left hand, I took a deep breath and jerked out the wood and poured the liquid on the wound as soon as it was out. I almost blacked out from the pain. When I could see past my agony, I pressed the gauze to the wound and then tightly secured the gauze in place by wrapping medical tape all the way around my leg.