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Authors: Michelle Mix

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BOOK: The Long Way To Reno
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I
was amused as he dropped his voice and growled out something that sounded like
‘Hunger’.

 

He
crossed his arms and squinted at the darkness above our heads. “And it was
weird because while they were inside, they would like…usher the…the infected
– the
Rabid
– like…go on. Get ‘em. Like that, y’know?”

 

I
tried to picture massive alien creatures ushering rabid zombies ahead of them,
encouraging them to eat and attack what they could. The picture didn’t work
because I couldn’t imagine the aliens’ appearance just right. I guess I just
had to see it.

 

“I
ran back in here. But…I noticed that they…didn’t come in, just the…just the
Rabid.” He trailed off again, thinking about this. I played with the flashlight
and noticed that my Reeboks were splattered with blood. I wondered when that
happened. The bells of my pants legs were stained as well. “Maybe they couldn’t
fit through the doors.”

 

I
lifted an eyebrow. The concept seemed ridiculous. “The Rabid got in easily.
Maybe that’s all they needed to do. You think they did that at Walmart, too?”

 

Harley
shrugged. When he looked down at his hands on his thighs, he concentrated on
them hard. “I don’t want to know. That place was always full of…like, little
kids and babies.”

 

I
had compassion somewhere in me. I just had to find it. I shrugged lamely in
response.

 

“So…what’s
your name?”

 

“Edith
Fitzgerald,” I told him.

 

He
gave me a startled look, and then searched for my name badge again. It still
wasn’t there, so he fumbled. “Oh. Huh. You don’t look like a –”

 

“What
do I look like?” I asked. I know what my name did to people. It wasn’t that
common to find an Asian with a name like mine. Harley stammered and did the
hand in hair thing.

 

“Well…I
don’t know. Just…not…like the others. You …you have a boyfriend?”

 

“No.
I was working on that.” I exhaled heavily, frowning. Wanting my chapstick.
“It’s hard finding a good man. I’m sick of boys.”

 

He
had an amused smile on his face. “What – “

 

“Anyway,
I don’t. Just my parents. 298 friends on Facebook, 296 of which I’ve never met
in person, and 20 friends on Xbox Live, none of which know I’m a chick. I have
acquaintances, but…no one close. I find it hard to get along with girls, and
it’s hard to be friends with boys because they always think they have a chance
to sleep with me. I have standards.”

 

He
had this look on his face, one I’d seen way too often on my dad’s face. The one
that said,
God, this ho is stuck-up
. He said that once, to my mom, and
mom and I had a great laugh. Dad says the funniest things, like he’s so
updated, and really, he’s this short guy that laughs too loud and says the most
inappropriate things at the wrong time. I missed him terribly. The tears
burned, and I struggled not to sniffle, even when my nose itched with the
efforts. I didn’t want to cry because I didn’t want this dork making things all
awkward between us.

 

I
twirled my hair, used the octopus clip to pin it back into place. Arranged the
flowing ends neatly so that it looked somewhat decent. Ran my fingers over my
bangs to make sure they were still flat and straight.

 

Harley
recovered. He was giving his worn, ugly shoes a hard stare, and I realized he
was politely ignoring my efforts not to cry. That actually scored him a few
points with me.

 

We
both stilled at the sound of movement. Both of us only looked up with silent
starts at the sight of this guy stepping out from behind one of the shelves,
and a couple of others moving slowly into view from the stairway nearby.
Another one approached us from alongside the conveyor belts, and at that point,
both of us shot to our feet.

 

“Jesus,
you scared me,” Harley exclaimed in thick relief, while I struggled to get my
heart beating from the complete scare I’d just had. Those guys just appeared in
front of us like ghosts – I swear to God, I could have wet my pants with
the way they just snuck up on us.

 

“You
made it,” one of them commented, while I swallowed and tried to wet my tongue.
I think my eyes were still pretty rounded at this point, taking them all in and
realizing that they were looking at me. Pretty intently, I might add. With the
way they stopped, they were facing against us as a group, and I started to get
uncomfortable with the proximity. Some of them had hammers, axes, huge wrenches
– properly armed in a sudden zombie/alien apocalypse.

 

“Yeah,”
Harley said in reply, and I heard him swallow. Glanced at him and saw that he
looked pretty tense. Like, his neck had these tendons showing, and his face was
this stern frown. His fists were clenched, and he’d taken a step back, holding
onto his axe with one hand.

 

I
watched the guy from the conveyors walk over, and saw the gun in hand. Oh,
good, he could shoot the Rabid when they converged on us. I guess,
if
they did.

 

“Troy…you
made it,” he said, and I recognized that voice. It was the main speaker of the
group, Jeff. He had this ugly expression as he looked from Harley to me. That
onceover he gave me made me so uncomfortable that I unconsciously stepped
closer to Harley, like he could somehow block me from view. It seemed rather
pathetic that I used the scrawny guy as cover.

 

“Jeff…Travis,
John, Chael,” Harley said tightly in response.

 

“We
got this safe place for you on the other side,” Jeff then said to me. “John’s
going to take you there.”

 

“I’m
not staying here,” I said, glancing at this John person when he indicated for
me to join him. “I’m waiting to go outside. I’m going home.”

 

“It’s
too dangerous out there for you,” Jeff said, exhaling through his nose. “C’mon,
we got one of the rooms outfitted for a few days.”

 

“No…I’m
– I’m pretty much ready to go, now,” I said. “I’m going home. I have to
go to Reno.”

 

“She
doesn’t want to stay here,” Harley said, speaking up suddenly. “We’re going to
leave.”

 

“You
open those doors, you’ll let those things in,” Jeff snapped, and his voice
actually made me cringe. It was too loud. Those things would hear him, didn’t
he get that? “We got all the girls in the hall by Red. We’ll be watching over
them until it’s safe outside.”

 

“I
don’t want to stay in here,” I insisted. “As soon as Harley opens that door,
I’m leaving! I need to go home!”

 

“Out
of the way, Troy. Just walk away,” Jeff said to Harley, ignoring me. “It’s not
like you can do anything – you’re one person. You go on ahead.”

 

I
just thought – NO.
No
, I didn’t want Harley to leave at that
moment. I knew these guys were up to no good – suddenly, it was like
– I felt like these guys were totally messing up the rules of survival.
They were using this catastrophe for something heinous, and was so blatant
about it - ! And I couldn’t stay here, because I would be part of their ugly
crimes, and - ! Really, what human being thinks this way? How could they just
take advantage of this chaos just to get their rocks off like this?

 

In
spite of the rising anger and outrage I felt, I also felt terrified. It felt
more real to face off with this monster. Because it felt like I couldn’t
escape. Not with the men surrounding us like this, with me having only Harley
to - !

 

My
mind was racing, fear made me sweat again. I didn’t know what to do while Jeff
said a few other things. I looked at Harley because I literally couldn’t think
or even force up enough survival instinct to tell me what to do.

 

He
glanced at me, battling some internal situation of his own – I could see
it in his tense face – and the eye contact we made was a clashing force
of…desperation? I couldn’t quite fathom it to understand what it was. But once
our eyes met, something clicked.
Something
that wasn’t there before
suddenly dropped down between us, like this physical weight. I
felt
it.
And, yet, I couldn’t quite process what it was as stark terror continued to
render me this voiceless person.

 

But
his face tightened again. I heard the sweaty sound of skin against wood as his
fingers tightened on the axe handle, and he was holding it within both hands,
lifting it in front of him.

 

“No,”
he told Jeff, in this firm and…well, rather manly tone. It didn’t fit him. It
didn’t sound like it should have come from him, but it did because I saw him
say it.

 

Something
like relief and yet horror filled me because even if he fought for me, he was
still outnumbered by the other guys. I actually started to feel bad. Like, I
actually felt my greedy selfishness hit me from the inside, reprimanding me for
being this way.

 

            “Stupid,”
Jeff muttered, lifting the gun, and both of us froze at that moment. I’d never
looked into a barrel of a gun like that. It felt unreal. It felt like it wasn’t
happening, and yet I was seeing this happen. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t
know what else to think. I could only stare into that barrel and –

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

 

 

It
was this tremendous crash of noise that made me scream, thinking that Jeff shot
Harley. It filled my ears in a wave of never-ending sound, distorting and
booming. Seconds later, it felt like I’d been crushed from behind, and I hit
the floor face first, sliding as all this crazy sound deafened me. I opened my
eyes, confused and disoriented, as white smoke caused me to cough, filling my
lungs with heavy weight that made it difficult to breathe.

 

            Something
exploded from behind us. I rose into a standing position, trying to breathe and
cough at the same time. I heard this continuous sound of destruction, a roar of
sound that made it difficult to concentrate. As I struggled to orient myself
with what was happening, I realized I was looking up at this outlandish,
massive figure surrounded by the night sky.

 

           
It’s
a Gundam
! some crazed part of my mind screamed. This face wasn’t human
– its eyes were heavily hooded by some sort of metal, neon blue piping
lighting this crazy alien face that was both robot and being. It had four
wicked arms that were busy tearing through the warehouse’s north wall,
rendering it into rubble, exposing us to the cold night. As metal twisted and
screeched with the thing’s movement, I started to see that it was merely
‘opening’ the building to the horde of creatures that had been waiting outside
to get in.

 

            This
thing was
gorgeous
– it was massive. It wasn’t a human-shaped
character that the anime mecha were recognized by – it was clearly
outworldish. Neon blue piping flashed here and there throughout jutting
shoulders, absurdly long arms with even longer fingers. Stubby legs – for
something that size, its legs were really short – moved in a fluid motion
like an animal’s. The giant robot crushed vehicles underneath each step, the
ground rumbling with its movement – it
had
to be hundreds of feet
high.

 

            My
mind was blown, watching this thing walk away. There were other shadows in the
distance as big as it, but they were too far away for me to see individually. I
could only imagine what they truly were. I could only think of how beautiful it
was to see these alien robots, here to destroy Earth, actually existing in
front of me. I wasn’t looking at them in fear or horror – I was
admiring
them from an anime-enthusiast’s point of view.

 

            I
was totally geeking out, rather than freaking out. Like I said, I lacked a
survival instinct.

 

            As
hearing started to return, my mind processed the snarls, the barking words of
creatures that were once human. I started to realize that I was still in
danger. My mind so blown by the robots that I didn’t even think about why it
had done what it did – I heard the noises of incoming Rabid and didn’t
even process it as a danger. Good thing I wasn’t the only one there.

 

The
metal stairs nearby vibrated with the weight of many moving feet, and Harley
knew they were running up to find us.

 

“Let’s
go!” Harley commanded, grabbing his own flashlight, activating it, and setting
off at a run. I followed, already out of breath and scared witless, my
flashlight bouncing on various surfaces while the Rabid barked and snarled. It
sounded so freaky because they sounded like animals, not humans. We left the
others quickly – I didn’t even see what had happened to them, but
obviously we were in the clear because of what that robot did.

 

We
went running through a pathway in the conveyer belt, and into an alphabetized
section that was Gold section’s last level. I assumed he was leading us to that
back staircase, and anticipated going down the steep stairs. Instead, he made a
hard left, taking us back along the aisle to the other staircase, across the
floor. Bewildered, because then that would take us back towards the Rabid, I
started to protest.

 

We
took the stairway down one level, the action preventing me from saying
anything, and I didn’t want to stop or slow down for the Rabid to catch up
while I complained. Instead, he jumped over the conveyor and headed for a
connecting passageway to the packing section of the warehouse. Which scared me,
as I clumsily climbed over the belt, because I didn’t know that part of the
warehouse. I’d never been there.

 

“C’mon!”
he shouted at me from over his shoulder, and I rushed to keep up, unable to
resist looking back. The Rabid were halted by the belt, and I was really
startled that they were that close until I saw that some had managed to
intercept the others, causing a brief blockage of snarling people in uniform.
Momentarily relieved, I returned my attention to Harley’s back and struggled to
take another set of stairs two at a time just to try and stay within five feet
of him. But the fool had longer legs, and I’m so
short
- !

 

I
looked back again, speeding up, nearly colliding with fallen totes. I caught
myself, looked back to see the Rabid figuring that they could crawl over the
conveyer belt and were now booking it towards us. I must’ve screamed or
squealed because then Harley had stopped and was running back to me. I got to
my feet and caught up to him, willing my legs to move me faster. He continued
leading us through this aisle of cardboard and totes atop of shelves, where the
people that had been working there had abandoned tools, gloves, sweaters and
water bottles in their haste to make the fire alarm call. He turned a sharp
right, and we were then running onto the second floor of Green section. He was
taking us to the wrecked section of the warehouse, I realized, huffing and
puffing.

 

Down
another set of stairs, and we were on concrete floor. There were carts in our
path, designed for the stowers – the people that filled bins with items
– and he stumbled into one. I caught myself in time, and the Rabid were
catching up. I looked back and realized there were people with flashlights
behind them. People shouting at us to turn back, and when Harley caught wind of
their voice, he did a double take. So those guys did survive, and they were
still coming after us? Freaking
insane
.

 

The
Rabid heard them, and turned, half running towards the people catching up and
half stumbling after us.

 

Harley
used “Jesus” and a creative curse together, pushing past me with his axe
raised.

 

Confused,
I came to an abrupt stop and watched as he tucked his flashlight in a pocket on
his backpack, and swung the axe with one hand. The blade embedded within a
Rabid’s temple, and he jerked it back just in time to swing again with both
hands at another that leapt at him.

 

I
pranced restlessly, breathing heavily and unsure of whether or not to help
Harley or just keep running. I still didn’t know how to contribute to zombie
slaughtering. The open air to the parking lot was beckoning me, but due to the
wreckage of the building, it would take a lot of climbing just to get there. It
had looked like an easy feat from above, but now it looked freaking impossible
to scale.

 

Harley
jerked his axe out of the scalp of a lady he just felled, then looked at me.
“Edith, go to the docks, and go out that exit near the trash can,” he said,
lifting his voice to be heard over the snarling, yelling.

 

I
was confused, overwhelmed with everything happening – I thought he was
gesturing towards the
other
end of the warehouse, 1
st
section. So I turned and began running in that direction. I was mindless,
really. I didn’t know how to function. With everything that had happened,
taking direction was impossible for me. I just ran wherever I
thought
he’d pointed without a second glance.

 

He
looked confused before he swung the axe, knocking a snarling guy in a gas
station uniform aside before crushing his skull with the axe. He didn’t even
get to say anything else because the Rabid just kept attacking him, and I was
just running without thinking.

 

I
knew where I was – I turned right and booked it between rows of books. I
made a sharp right, aiming for a wider aisle between rows. My flashlight
bouncing all over the place, I ran for a conveyer, hearing the sounds of the
Rabid behind me growing closer. In a flash of inspiration, I picked up speed
towards the conveyer and threw myself in an awkward slide underneath it,
sending a couple of empty totes flying away from me. I made it back to my feet
and continued to run, willing myself to be fast.

 

I
chanced a look over my shoulder and couldn’t see Harley anymore. Movement to
the right of me told me that one of the guys that had confronted us was running
after me, alongside a conveyer belt. I wanted to scream, but that meant loss of
precious air, and I needed it to run faster. I ran towards the open doorway
that led into the 1
st
section, knowing that I was in the clear from
here.

 

I
panicked because I didn’t know where I was going. How I was going to get there
without direction. I forgot about the locked doors. I couldn’t remember where
I’d parked my car. At this time, I’d totally forgotten that I hadn’t even found
my car keys. All I could think of was getting to my car parked outside.

 

I
sprinted through the open doorway, overwhelmed by the lights above. I shoved my
flashlight into the waistband of my jeans, pumping my arms furiously. Looking
behind me once more, only one Rabid was after me. That guy in the white shirt
was being ripped apart by the others. He was screaming hoarsely, arms flailing,
but he wasn’t going to make it. I didn’t know what to do with this Rabid coming
at me.

 

I
was out of breath and my legs weren’t going any faster. I was even slowing down
by the time I reached the set of offices clear on the other side of the
warehouse. I was dying. I was going to die anyway. But I’d rather die of
sprinting than under the teeth of the thing behind me. I looked at it again,
heart pumping hard, seemingly pulsing underneath my throat – it was
wearing a police uniform, it was fat, and half of its face was missing. But I
noticed it had a gun in its waist holster.

 

Hey.
I could
use
that.

 

Struggling
to breathe, I returned my attention forward and heard these weird sounds
– women’s shouts and screams. One of the doors of the offices was being
pound upon, and it was slightly open, allowing me to see them. I could see that
the guys had locked it with a chain. I could just run past them and go outside
but…but something inside of me made me stop for them. Maybe it was the way they
screamed at me – giving me direction. I don’t know.

 

The
Rabid was coming closer, and I had to think of what to do. I wanted that gun.

 

Suddenly
I wasn’t scared. Suddenly I was inspired – I played enough zombie
survival games to know what to do – I just had to apply it all to this
life now. I needed that thing’s gun – he wasn’t going to need it anymore,
and thanks to Dad, I knew what to do with it.

 

Gulping
air, I thought desperately. I did my awkward slide on the floor, and in doing
so, effectively tripped up the sprinting Rabid. He somersaulted over me, hit
the concrete floor with a splatter of grunting noise. The women screamed at me
to kill it and help them. I was struggling to breathe, to think of what to do
to kill it. I didn’t know
how
to. It wiggled and turned, snarling
incoherent things that may have been words, and it looked at the women that
were just barely visible within the small space they’d managed to create with
pulling at the door.

 

My
mind went blank. I looked at the Rabid, then at them. Despite my earlier
bravado, I just didn’t know what to do when it came to actually killing the
thing. My knife wasn’t going to do shit – my Fubar -!

 

I
remembered
my Fubar. I jerked it from my belt loop, breathed several
times in this panicky fashion, then worked up enough nerve to charge. It looked
away from the women to look at me with those red/black eyes, snarling something
that could have been curse words or words of discovery. When it charged at me,
I drew my arm back in a wide swing and connected with the thing’s face. It only
knocked it off course. The heaviness of the tool and my own awkward momentum
sent me spinning, and I lost my balance, landing hard on my knees. I’d
connected, though, the thing’s face shifted to one side. It was
so
gross, I was absolutely disgusted. I retched as I rose, struggling to regain
strength to hit it again.

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