The Long Way To Reno (7 page)

I
missed horribly, but it stumbled. I brought the Fubar down on the back of its
head, and it hit the concrete floor with a splatter of congealed blood and
gore. I screamed as I brought my Fubar up and slammed the wrench side down
against the back of its skull. It was so
disgusting
how easy this
demolition tool shattered human bone and brain to make this really slippery,
cracking sound.

I
retched again, tried to barf – but it was only the water I’d drank
earlier that I let loose. It mixed with the gore splattered on the floor. My
head was buzzing, my face was hot, and I was
thisclose
to passing out
from the extreme grossness of it all. Until the ladies screaming at me caught
my attention. Dizzily, I returned my attention to them, stumbled to them as I
dragged my Fubar with me. My hair was a huge mess, I had watery vomit all over
my face, probably snot dangling from my nose – I was not an awesome
heroine. I would be self-conscious about it later.

I
realized I’d killed the zombie – it was motionless on the floor. And I
had more than enough time to help the ladies that were screaming at me to hurry
up. I used the pry side of my Fubar between the latch of the door and the chain
that was hooked to a hastily drilled ‘eye’ that kept the chain in place. I told
them to push the door while I used all my strength to pull the Fubar downwards,
metal protesting as the ‘eye’ started to budge. Once they realized I was
actually doing something, they all got into pushing at the door, grunting and
straining as I was.

I
heard shouts from the other end of the warehouse, and looked over to see a
couple of guys booking it towards us. They were bloodstained and furious
looking. The ‘eye’ stopped moving, and my pry bar slipped. I stumbled as I lost
my balance, and then jammed the bar back into the space I’d created between
door and metal and tried again. They were able to open the door enough for one
skinny chick to crawl out. Then another. The chain loosened. There were three
of them left, and one of them was trying to wedge herself between that narrow
space we’d made available. The guys grew closer, and the two that had freed
themselves had just discovered what had happened to the Exit door. The one that
was stuck was crying and straining to get her hips unstuck.

Panicked,
I dropped my hold on my Fubar, slammed down atop of the killed zombie, and
found the handgun I’d seen. I remembered the safety button – I flicked
it, and lifted it, familiar with the weight and feel of such a weapon in my
hands. I aimed at the men that were coming to complete stops, looking stunned
to see me armed. The women were screaming again. Metal creaked and protested,
and from the corner of my eye, that girl managed to emerge from where she was
caught.

I
heard the heavy sound of a metal bar hitting the concrete floor, and looked
over to see that the other two had managed to get the door open. They
disappeared into the night, and movement at the corner of my eye told me the
men were sprinting forward again. The remaining women behind the previously
unlocked door managed to get out, and the men shouted angrily. They weren’t
going to stop. I guess from the shaking and awkward positioning of my hands,
they knew I would miss shooting them. They were chancing that to get to me.

So
I depressed the trigger, still unprepared for the recoil. It bounced in my
hands, and in my haste to rebalance it, grip it properly, I didn’t see one of
the chicks crawling up from the floor, totally focused on the open door. When I
fired again, I shot her point blank in the temple as she rose to run for
freedom.

I
was stunned.
Stunned
. I dropped the gun, losing focus of the world as I
looked down at the chick I’d accidently killed. She dropped down into the
concrete floor with a stiff motion. I heard my own short breath, my own
thudding heartbeat – my hands were curled, as if they still held the gun.
She lay in an awkward position, bleeding horrendously onto the floor. Her
mascara’d eyes were wide open, but her mouth was set to one side. Bonelessly.
She had been a pretty blond with a loud voice, and now she was dead by my own
hands. This situation was different from those I’d left behind – this was
by
my own hand
.

I
felt force against my cheek like some blinding power, and I went flying. I hit
the concrete completely unprepared to catch myself, vision momentarily graying.
Someone
hit
me. Hit me hard enough to send me onto the floor, and, for a
moment, I wondered if I’d been somehow shot as well. Tears built and spilled,
and I couldn’t catch my breath. I hadn’t ever been hit like that before. I
looked up as the two guys looked over the zombie – one of them had the
gun – and the other kicked the woman onto her back. Her arms were stiff
as they resettled over her own chest and stomach, and they were bewildered as
to how this had happened.

Dazedly,
I looked around. The Exit door was open, and the other ladies had left without
a second look back.
Bitches
.

I
looked up when one of the men marched over and kicked me hard in the stomach. I
couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t make a sound as my body did its own thing; curling
in on itself, turning away from the infliction. My face throbbed and my stomach
felt as if it had met my spine. It felt broken. They were saying stuff, but I
didn’t even know what – my head was in such a jumble. For some desperate
and unknown reason, I tried to crawl away. As if they’d let me go. Fingers entangled
into my hair and yanked me back so hard that my neck felt broken. I didn’t even
want to stretch out because my stomach felt so weird, but my body did it anyway
as they yanked me to my feet. I couldn’t catch my balance, and they were
yelling and screaming at me, as if I would get what they were saying.

I
get that they were pissed about the ladies being let go, but
c’mon
.

I
hit the floor on my knees while they cursed and hollered, kicked the bodies of
the two nearby. Spittle dripped to the floor while my mouth opened, my body
trying to retch – sound or breath, it couldn’t decide. I looked at them
through my bangs – I recognized one as a stower, another as a forklift
operator. I’d smiled and exchanged pleasantries with these men only hours earlier.

How
much time had passed since the fire alarms had been set off to chaos?

One
of my hands rested upon my cheek – it was throbbing and already swelling.
I was shocked that someone would lay their fists on me the way that they had. I
hadn’t expected or experienced this type of violence on me. I only saw it on
tv. I think I was bawling – or trying to. I wasn’t even sure if I was
still breathing.

“What’d
you do that for?” one of them hollered at me, arms spread. “We’re trying to
help you!”

Even
in the midst of my shattered coherency, I knew that was a lie.

They
shouted some expletives and curses, until one raced to the Exit. He looked out,
gave a disgusted shake of his head, kicked the metal. “She’s the only one!” he
exclaimed angrily.

The
one with my gun shoved it into the back of his jeans and hollered something
over his shoulder. Jeff and another man were walking back, and they looked
pissed. The other guy strode away from the door, gesturing wildly and saying
something. Words were exchanged – shouts, because of the distance. I
wondered if Harley had somehow survived.

Something
screamed outside the open Exit door, and I was the only one to hear it. It
didn’t sound human. It was because of that sound that I stilled, tensed as I
wondered what would come through that doorway. Seeing that men were busy
shouting at each other, I searched the floor for my Fubar. I could breathe a
little, now, tight gulps that weren’t satisfying. I found my weapon nearby. I
stretched and pulled it to me, slowly rising to my knees, struggling for bigger
gulps of air. That scream was closer, this time. A weird combination of
vibration and yodeling. It wasn’t human. An alien?

But
it was my way out.

I
booked it. I didn’t care how much I hurt, or that something was coming up to
the doorway. I went to the door because I didn’t want to be the only female
trapped in this hellhole with a bunch of guys. They shouted and scrambled, and
I willed my short legs to run faster. Cold air bit me immediately as I stepped
outside, and the scream was louder. It was still nighttime – though the
horizon was starting to lighten slightly.

I
saw this lumbering black shadow against black once I raced outside, stumbling
in the soft dirt. I turned away from it, and stumbled towards the pavement. The
thing screamed, and it was very loud. But I didn’t look back. I ran blindly to
get away from all of them.

I
didn’t want to be trapped with those men. That one want was stronger than my
fear of the things walking around outside, of possible Rabid lingering in the
parking lot. I ran, and the ground shook as something immense hurried after me.
I heard the dirt splay under its tremendous weight, and I felt the vibration
through my legs with each step. It breathed heavy, and it growled low – a
weird sort of growl. It almost did sound like it was saying ‘hunger’ – I
wondered if Harley was still alive.

I
found the pavement, the street that would take one to the home improvement
store, and to the paint place beyond that. For some reason, I wanted to make it
to Walmart. I ran straight for it, knowing that something was chasing me, still
unknown to me because I didn’t look back. People who always looked back at
their pursuers
always
fell in movies and died extreme deaths, so I
didn’t
dare look back
. It was cold – I sucked it in, and it hurt my lungs. I
coughed as I ran, the Fubar extremely heavy in my two hands. I wondered if the
ladies had made it, and from the corner of my eye saw someone maneuvering
through the parking lot through my left. I didn’t look long to see if it was one
of them, or someone else. It was just a shape.

I
heard multiple gunshots behind me, growing faint – screams of humans. The
ground continued to thump until I realized that another tall, dark shape was
planning on intercepting me from the parking lot. Underneath the lights that
illuminated the spread, I saw my first Alien.

It
was over eight feet tall, with a hunched back. It had thick, long arms, bulging
with an absurd amount of muscle. A tubular style face with a maw that looked
exactly as Harley described – wide open from jaw to chest, like a sagging
mouth made of a plastic bag. Its legs were tree trunks, but stubby for its
frame. Its feet were shaped circular, like an elephants’ – only with
extending claws. Its eyes glimmered wetly – they were round and beady,
possibly black. A moment after processing these features, I realized I’d
already seen them – they were the same style as the massive robot that
had taken down the wall, minus the four arms.

It
opened its mouth to scream at me, and the one behind me screamed in response.
It was so high-pitched that I clamped my hands over my ears as I ran –
the Fubar bounced against my ear and caused it to hurt terribly. I stumbled,
but I picked up my pace and continued to run. The things weren’t that fast, but
they were catching up to me.

I
dropped my clamp over my ears and made a sharp left, into the dirt leading to
the parking lot. This caused both creatures to stop their pursuit, to turn as
well. It was an awkward sort of turn, their bodies lurching to the side as they
struggled to align themselves into the turn. Their framework worked to my
advantage, because it gave me time to sprint and continue towards Walmart. By
the time they were turned, I was already in the parking lot. I was going to
make it.

:
:

I
entered the superstore from the cart entrance. Carts were overturned, groceries
scattered. I bypassed it all and ran into the store. Bodies laid here and there
– small ones that made me look away instantly. The store was very bright,
but everything was out of line, scattered. As if people had raided the store
and destroyed it purposefully. Clothes lay everywhere, food scattered. Aisles
misaligned. Money lay here and there. Rows of food were fallen, toppled over
each other like dominoes. The creatures outside screamed in outrage, and I
remembered Harley saying they ushered the Rabid to do their bidding. So I
needed to find a hiding spot before they overwhelmed the place. Maybe find
someplace high to climb.

My
eye was swelling – no, my cheek. My vision was growing obscured, and I
touched it with the hand holding tightly onto the Fubar. It was swollen
considerably, mooning against that eye.

I
raced through the clothing aisle and headed for the garden section. I knew
where I was going to hide. The bins holding garden and outside stuff were high,
and I was now confident of my climbing skills. Once there, I settled the Fubar
back into my belt loop, and took a few moments to examine the set-up. The bins
were exactly like the ones at my workplace, only two stories smaller. It would
do.