The Long Way To Reno (2 page)

The fire alarms
continued, and this chaos overwhelmed me. I didn't know what to do as people
started to scatter, shouting amongst each other and stumbling away from both
the somethings at the door, and the people eating other people. The two that
started the whole eating mess was tearing into the man, and the woman
previously bit was choking on her own blood.

I stared down at
her, unable to make a noise or to even move. She clawed at her own torn throat
– I didn't know skin could
look
that way, folded over – and
blood spewed over the concrete floor, near my shoes. I lifted one Reebok, then
the other to escape the slow moving liquid that stank –I saw a lot of blood
and gore on the television screen, but seeing something like this just…tore
something in me. Like it wasn't real. Like maybe I was in some sort of video
game – y'know, a zombie one. Or something. I couldn't think.

She sputtered,
coughed again, then emitted this tortured shriek – it looked really
forceful and wicked, because her eyes seemed to bulge, and the sound wavered
into a bubbly gurgle- her limbs stiffened inward, hands curling down and her
entire body seized. Her eyes exploded with that red and black color, and she
was no longer screaming – she was pushing herself up to grab the nearest
hollering person next to her, attacking like some rabid animal.

Someone grabbed my
arm and shouted, let go as they passed me by – prompting me out of my
shock. I looked back at the security guard and realized they'd given up on
holding the door shut. People were coming
in
.

People that looked
like the lady that had brought down another worker, this guy screaming like a
banshee as his eyes were popped out by blood stained fingers. I blinked dry
eyes and stepped back, bumping into the trashcan. That had to be it. We were in
a movie. On a movie set. Peeps were filming some zombie flick, and us poor
workers were caught unawares. That memo should've been sent to me somehow,
because I think I would've been better prepared. You know, had a better
survival instinct on camera.

I continued to
stand there and watch those people coming in from the outside, mauling the
security guard, and the guy I had spoken to earlier. Animal sounds came from
them, and Kara shrieked in pure agony – I clapped my hands over my ears
and felt completely weak because humans shouldn't sound like that. I think I
even squeaked or something in response because then the people with bloody
faces, with torn clothes and Darth Maul-colored eyes were now looking at me.
Seeing this and watching them as they suddenly rushed towards me broke me out
of my stunned shock – I turned and began running, no
sprinting
– spying the other fleeing bastards racing for their lives towards the
center of the warehouse.

I clawed at the
air in front of me and inwardly begged myself to run faster – those
people behind me were snarling and breathing heavy, and it reminded me of those
fucking zombies from the movies – sprinting after their prey, their
bodies jerky and anxious and doing whatever it was they could do to get to
their food faster. They weren't limping or stumbling like the Walkers on the
show – these things were sprinting like Olympic track stars.

I cursed my lack
of athletic prowess, immediately out of breath afterward, turning a sharp
corner towards where I knew was another exit. But people were streaming away
from there, too, prompted by another crowd of snarling creatures. I made
another sharp turn and made the stupid effort to claw up onto a conveyor belt.
I managed to fall onto the other side, slamming into my knees, the snarling
monsters behind me stopped by the obstacle. It was so stupid and simple, me
crawling to my feet and looking back to see them dumbfounded by the conveyor.
Like it wasn't supposed to be there, and what were they supposed to do next - ?

They caught sight
of the other runners and began their chase as I stumbled off, my knees aching
by the fall. I caught hold of a cart, full with totes, and shoved it behind me,
hearing it fall with a noisy clatter. It caught the attention of the monsters,
and some fell over the conveyor belt, as if they hadn't seen it when they
caught sight of me. Once they realized they were closer to me, they snarled and
clawed to their feet, and I booked it once more. Arms pumping, breath labored
– I spent my days on the couch, playing video games where
I
chased
after my prey. I wasn't ready for this!

In an absolute
moment of panic-blind stupidity, I went
up
– the metal stairway to
the second and third floors of one of the massive sections of the warehouse was
my one chance to escape somehow, and I used the safety bars to yank myself up.
My thighs automatically protested –they're so steep – and I was
slowed significantly by it. The monsters behind me were stumbling over each
other, and actually piled over one another, and I used that to crawl my way to
the third floor – I figured once up there, I'd race to the other end of
the level, where it would connect to the other color section. Inspiration hit
me, and I made myself run harder.

The warehouse was
in absolute chaos – the fire alarms were still going off, screams were
coming from everywhere, machinery continued grinding on – I didn't dare
look anywhere else but ahead of me as I jumped and stumbled across another
conveyer belt and booked it down a narrow aisle of shelves upon shelves of
various items. I didn't even look behind me to see if I was still being chased.

There were seventy
rows of shelves, and I managed to make it to the very first – a four
piece that harbored things like baby lotion, dildos, video games and clothing.
Upon reaching the safety railing, I slammed against it and saw that it didn't
connect to the other mezzanine – instead, I looked down at screaming
people being torn apart, at the snarling zombies that attacked desperate
runners. Utterly out of breath, I clutched the railing and looked over the
third-story drop to the section I had been in previously, when the alarms went
off.

I saw my abandoned
cart, my totes, and then saw the safety net that swung from this level to the
Gold side. It was underneath one of the conveyors, and as desperation hit me, I
knew I couldn't climb that fast to the conveyors – but I could make the
safety net. It was designed to catch falling debris from the totes –
books and stuff. Not hold people.

But I told myself
I was small, I lost weight – I felt the vibration under my feet and knew
those things were going to catch up to me. I didn't want to look, I was too
scared. I climbed over the railing and struggled to reach for the net. All the
while, I was breathing heavily, struggling for precious air, and my arms were
short
– I'm a short person, and I lacked that distance needed for a firm grasp
on that net. I wanted to scream, to lunge, something that'd bring the net to me
– why didn't I have telekinetic powers? Why wasn't I a mutant of some
sort?

I felt the heavy
vibrations coming nearer, and I looked back in time to see Walmart workers
sprinting at me. I was so terrified at their sudden nearness that I lunged away
from their bloody, outstretched hands. Once my fingers caught in that net, I
tightened my grip, falling forward as my entire body swung away from the
railing.

I was hanging over
concrete three stories below, and I was screaming at the same time –
where I got the breath for that, I don't know, but I screamed because I don't
know how I was hanging there without falling. I clutched the net with both
hands, legs kicking and then stilling once my feet hit nothing. The creatures
snarled and barked at me, trying to use words – panicked, I looked at
them, using every ounce of strength I had just to hold tightly onto the net.
They were straining to grab me, fingernails inches from my sweaty face when one
of them crawled over the other, causing both of them to fall forward.

I screamed, high
pitched and long as one tumbled over onto the floor below, and the other caught
hold of the net. Something tore loudly, and my heart and stomach swept up into
my throat – I almost lost hold of the net as it disconnected from the
conveyor belt supports and wall – we started to swing toward the Gold
section in a stomach churning drop that had me screaming even harder.

The zombie lost
his grip and fell snarling to the concrete below, and I immediately latched hold
onto the railing of the second floor. It hurt, my weight causing me to slam and
drop before my arm caught and my other arm automatically reached for some sort
of purchase. I struggled to comprehend that I somehow survived. Gasping for
breath and utterly weak with relief and fear –I didn't know which was
more prominent – I managed to pull myself up and over the railing, and
flopped onto the floor.

Okay.
Okay
,
I survived that.
Now what
?

Somehow I was on
my feet again, and I was moving – running across Gold section's 2nd level
and racing for the end of it, heading for a stairway – it was hard to
move, every part of me jelly. I made it to the first floor, saw that it was
clear, and ran for the 1st half of the warehouse. There were screams
everywhere, the lights were dimmer here – the fire alarm was still
shrieking that incessant noise, but the closer I got to the security offices,
it grew more piercing. I clapped my hands over my ears, running awkwardly, and
raced around rows of conveyors that would take all the totes we’d picked to the
packing level – I stopped short once I saw a group of snarling zombies
racing after people I couldn’t see, and dove underneath one of the conveyor
belts without even seeing if they had noticed me. I crawled like an animal,
breathless and knees hurting on concrete underneath the rows of conveyors,
trying to think of another exit. I couldn't think too much. Panic was
overwhelming.

Once I reached the
end of those rows, I peeked out from all angles – I didn't see anybody
nearby, I couldn't see those zombies – but I saw the massive rows of
Costco-like levels before me, and knew I had made it to the 1st half of the
building. Only now, that meant I was in the very center of the warehouse
– I eked a curse, and looked back the way I'd crawled. I usually took
that entrance into the warehouse, and outside those security doors was exits,
my purse, my cellphone.

Mom
!
Dad
! I thought in a panic, stilling. Did they know
about this? Was this widespread? Surely it didn't happen
here
, just here
in Fernley. Were they okay? Are we quarantined? Is that why that guy looked
up
once he was outside?

I struggled to
breathe, hands down on the dirty floor and tried to think. I had to make it
outside. I couldn't just stay
inside
. I looked around myself once more,
my head hitting the bottom supports of the conveyor belt. My hair caught, and I
eked a protest as I jerked forward, ripping hair from my scalp. I rubbed at it,
tears in my eyes, and heard a shuffling sound ahead of me. I saw a guy waving
at me – I froze, trying to determine if he were friend or foe.

"Over here!
Over here, hurry!" he hissed, and I knew he was friendly – those
things didn't speak like that. Desperate for some sort of help, I looked around
myself once more. He was bent over in one of the massive bins, atop of an empty
wooden pellet. There were three other people with him – a girl with
smeared eye makeup, a large, overweight man that I recognized as part of the
group I'd started with this season, and an older worker. They were looking around
wildly, the girl clinging to the large guy who blubbered quietly.

I somehow thought
it was hysterical to see such a large man crying openly. I shot forward, my
knees refusing to straighten properly after all the abuse I put them through.
Once I was securely with the group, we huddled together – though I
noticed the disgusting body smells, right now, I was overwhelmed with the need
to escape the horrors behind us. We somehow made it to the end of the aisle
– there were exactly 246 bins in each row, with each row containing five
levels each – and rounded the corner after our leader cleared it.

We then ran like
Hell towards the end of the warehouse – leaving behind the older worker
and the overweight man. They protested as loud as they dared, and I, a
desperate coward, didn't dare slow down to help them. I needed,
wanted
to help myself. I wanted to
live
. I didn't want to die like those I saw
die, and because of that, I didn't want to help. I practically flatted the back
of the man's shoes I was so close behind him, and the girl embedded her wicked
fingernails into my arm and refused to let go.

We made it to the very end, where they kept
the trash compactor and forklifts, golf-carts used for First Response. People
were screaming there, but I didn’t dare look in case it slowed me down. I saw
the open Exit door – without pause, the girl let go of my arm and
sprinted like mad for it. The guy tried to stop her, his head whipping in the
other direction, and I slammed into his suddenly stopped back, smashing my nose.
Tears sprang out, but I promptly forgot the pain when a group of zombies raced
after her. He shoved me backwards, and we were once again running in the other
direction. I didn’t even think about his intentions too much – instead of
running with him, I was clamoring up one nearest bin, and using the metal
supports of the structure to climb upward. I heard him shout something, but I
didn’t listen – I wanted to get away so badly. I wanted to
live
.