“No,” Robbie admitted.
“I believed you,” Eggo said. “Maybe not fully, but I knew something was wrong. I’ve been to enough of these conferences to recognize a prank when I see one. Nobody would go through such extreme measures to pull one over on their colleagues.” Eggo paused for a moment and then said, “I’m sorry I have to ask, but what happened to your hair?”
“It was a wig,” she admitted. “Those things jumped on it, so I had to throw my hair off.”
Eggo chuckled. “Damn. You don’t fuck with a girl’s hair.”
Nitsy laughed.
“Well, I don’t have any hair,” Eggo added, running a hand over his bald head.
“Why didn’t you have the door locked?” Nitsy asked.
“It was locked,” he replied.
“No, we walked right in,” she said.
Eggo stood and made his way over to the door. He jiggled the handle and the door opened easily.
“Shit,” he said. “It must be broken.”
He looked at her rake and said, “I’m sorry to ask you this. We can probably find something else in here to block this, but…”
Nitsy knew the rake would do the trick, so she handed it over. He slid the wooden stick through the two handles, locking it in place. Again, it might hold against one of the creatures, but not against the whole group of them. She only hoped they weren’t smart enough to track them down.
“Have you seen anyone else alive?” Nitsy asked.
He shook his head. “I went to try and check the auditorium for living people, but I got attacked outside.”
“Those bodies on the grass were from you?” Robbie asked.
Eggo nodded his head, but he wasn’t proud. It was clear he felt badly about what he’d done. “Yeah, they just kept coming.” He paused and asked, “Have y’all seen anyone else?”
“A few of the students are hiding in the music room,” Nitsy replied. “Bradley and Phyllis from our group—”
“Oh, I’m glad they made it,” Eggo said.
“And some asshole named Lance and a couple… uh… Beau and… uh…”
“Yasmin,” Nitsy finished for him.
“I don’t know most of the kids,” Eggo admitted. “I mean you were in my group, so I know you, but…”
“We went to get the cell phones you guys collected from us,” Robbie said, “at the auditorium, but we got attacked.”
“Any idea what we can do?” Nitsy asked Eggo.
He shrugged. “Stay right here and wait for help?”
They’d gone from one locked room to another. At least in this one, they’d have food and drinks. Maybe hiding out and waiting for rescue was the right answer. Robbie joined them in sitting on the floor, and she held his hand while putting her head against his chest. At least they had each other, from back home, to help each other through this.
22
“Right there,” Grant said as he, Sally, and Hal crouched behind a parked Buick.
Hal could see the sign even though the lights were off. It read: Clementine’s Cannons. It was the local gun store. The only place in town to get a gun legally.
“The street looks empty,” Hal said. “I think we can make a run for it. Try our best to stay out of the streetlights until we reach the door.”
Grant nodded. “If she ain’t in there, then what?”
“Can’t break the window,” Sally warned them. “You’d bring every one of those things down on us.”
“Is there a back door?” Hal asked.
“I don’t know, man. I don’t hang out there.”
Hal was starting to dislike this guy. It was clear he was a jealous man and didn’t like him talking to Sally. Hal had known Sally for years. He got a lot of his pre-work meals from The Diner. Sure, she was a good-looking woman, but he wasn’t searching for a lover or a spouse. He liked being by his lonesome. So, Grant could kiss his ass.
“You don’t have to be an asshole about it,” Hal said, never the one to let someone talk trash and get away with it.
“You think I’m being an asshole? I’m just sayin’ I don’t know the ins and outs of Clementine’s Cannons.”
“How about we try the front door before y’all get to arguing,” Sally recommended.
She didn’t wait for the boys to agree or disagree. It was clear she didn’t need their approval. She stayed low as she rushed to the gun store’s door. She jiggled the handle as the two men raced to catch up with her. The door was locked.
Sally knocked on the door. Hal wished she’d do it more softly. If even one of those things heard her, they’d all come running.
When simply knocking on the door didn’t work, Sally pounded, and as Hal was about to tell her to stop, a face appeared on the other side of the glass. Clementine was a plus-size woman with hair that had been box dyed at home so many times it now was the color of sweet tea and was as dry and brittle as could be. She used to attend the meetings with Hal and had even flirted with him a bit.
Since her husband’s death, she’d been running the gun store all on her own and lived in a small room at the back of the building. Hal knew this because she’d once offered for him to come over after a meeting and share TV dinners with her. Of course, he turned down the invitation.
“Sally?” Clementine asked from the other side of the door. “Grant? Hal?”
“Open up,” Hal said, “before we get attacked out here.”
“What if you’re not really you?” she asked.
“Look at my hair,” Sally said, leaning her head forward until it touched the glass.
“What the hell does your hair have to do with anything?” the shop owner shot back. “I don’t give a damn about your hairstyle. You might wanna eat me.”
“I don’t want to eat you,” Sally said, “I promise. Now, open up.”
“They get in your hair,” Hal informed her. “They’re little bugs that get in your hair—”
“And change you into a zombie,” Grant added.
“Really? In your goddamn hair?” Clementine asked.
“We really need to get in there, babe,” Sally said. “I don’t want to die out here on the street.”
“Or get your hair taken I suppose,” Clementine said as she stood up and unlocked the door.
“They don’t take your hair,” Grant mumbled.
Hal had a sudden image of these things ripping the hair off of people and wearing it as their own, like some kind of fashionable parasite.
Once inside, Grant was the first to speak up about the guns. “I know we just got here and all, but we really need some guns and ammo.”
Clementine rolled her eyes. “I figured as much. Ain’t like y’all come around to visit when you don’t want something.”
“You ever swing by the diner when you ain’t hungry?” Sally asked.
Clementine had to think about that for a second. “No, I suppose I don’t.”
“Well, there we go,” Sally replied.
Clementine chuckled under her breath and said, “You sure done grown up to be a real spitfire. I told your mama you would.” She paused and watched as the two men loaded up with weapons. “So… they get in your hair? That’s really messed up.”
“It’s awful,” Sally said. “And it happens so fast. They took over the entire diner in no time at all.”
“What kind of monster goes after your hair?” the older woman asked. “Well, head lice are a bitch, so it don’t surprise me something that goes after your hair is as well.”
“They are like head lice,” Sally agreed.
“I wonder if, you know that stuff they sell at Walmart… that uh… permethrin!” Clementine shouted and then remembered the situation they were in and lowered her voice. “That’s it. It kills lice, right? I wonder if we sprayed that stuff on all them things if that would make ‘em go away.”