Inside Burlington, I saw two zombies. They wandered aimlessly amidst racks of marked down clothing. They looked hapless, and bored, resembling live shoppers as far as I was concerned. They seemed preoccupied with absolutely nothing. I had not attracted their attention.
The last thing I needed was for them to see Allison when she ran. I spun around, looking toward the Sprint store, and Abbotts Ice Cream. The west aisle was clearer, best I could tell.
I tried to use my hands to explain I wanted Allison to run on the opposite side of the Pagoda--not taking the same path I’d used. I snaked my hand toward the right, and waved her on.
I saw it in her eyes. She had no idea what I was trying to communicate. None. I gave her some credit. What I did with my hand resembled bad charades. I kept at it. I used two hands to wave her in on my left side, and then shook my head, NO. On the right side of my body, I did it again with my hands, and nodded vigorously, YES.
She nodded. Thank God. She moved to the other side of the Pagoda, and then found me with her eyes. I looked all around, thought it was safe, and nodded with a simple wave of my hand.
Staying low, she ran toward me, and was about to kneel next to me.
The plan forgotten.
“Keep going, to the next area,” I whispered. “Go, go.”
Allison looked toward Burlington. I know she saw the zombies inside, because her eyes opened wider.
“Go,” I said. “Stop behind the next kiosk.”
She ran. I watched. I tried to see everything at once. When Allison stopped, sat, rested her back against the wristwatch kiosk, I inhaled deeply, and sighed silently. When she waved me to her, I shook my head. She had not scanned the area for zombies at all.
This was not going to be simple.
Chapter Sixteen
Somehow we’d managed to leapfrog our way from the Pagoda kiosk to a center aisle kiosk that sold electric cigarette kits. This time, instead of running past Allison, I stopped and dropped beside her.
We both were breathing heavy. Sweat rolled down her forehead. She wiped it from her brow with a forearm. “I’m not sure how much more I can do,” she said.
“We’re there. Security is just around the corner. Once we get into their office, we’re bound to find weapons. At least keys to one of their patrol vehicles.” I knelt, ready to make a break for it.
“It’s not what I mean,” she said. “I’m not sure how much more of this I can do. Running. Hiding.”
I shook my head. “So what? You’re going to give up? Just sit here and wait for one of those things—or a group of them—to find you? You saw them take down that guy in the parking lot, the people at work. You don’t have much of a choice. We’re going to arm ourselves and get out of here.”
She almost laughed, the smile faltered. “And get your kids and go to Mexico. Mexico. Chase, do you realize how crazy that sounds? How impossible?”
I heard moaning. Groaning. We were not alone. Not like we had been for most of our excursion from one end of the mall to its center. Made sense the food court might be more dangerous. The smells. Probably drew them from all corners, like flies to shit.
“The alternative is giving up, Alley. Surrendering. I’m not going to do that. I can’t. You can’t either.”
“Because of your kids. I understand that. You have to keep going, keep moving. But not me,” she said.
“I’m not leaving you here. You’ll die. It’ll be a horrible death, Alley. Painful. If we end up going that way, then we go that way. You aren’t giving up this easy. Not now. Not while we have options. I won’t let you,” I said.
I watched her lip tremble. Tears pooled in her eyes. “When I say run, we’re running. Together. I’m not leaving you here. Got it?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Had she disagreed, giving me any more problems, I would have left her. She just didn’t realize it. If she couldn’t toughen up, she was going to find herself on her own. She might think she’s tired, ready to quit. Once death faced her, I bet she’d run in the opposite direction screaming. No one gave in, gave up that easily when actually in front of death. No one. It went against natural instinct to survive.
“On three,” I said, smiling. “We got this, okay?”
“On three.” She knelt beside me.
I held a hand up, scanned as much of the mall as I could see. “I don’t see anything.”
“I hear them.”
I nodded. “I have a feeling when we round that corner; they’re going to be there.”
“So the plan?”
“We run past the Burger King, toward the restrooms, and here’s the thing – we try the security office door. If it’s unlocked, we can get in; lock ourselves inside if we’re chased.”
“Is that a good idea? Locking ourselves in there?”
“That’s if we’re being chased, and it’s unlocked. Otherwise, we get in, grab what we can. Flashlights, radios, weapons, and keys. That’s the main thing, keys.”
“And if it’s locked and we’re being chased?”
“Fire exit doors are right there. We just go out and keep running until we’re not being chased anymore. Got it?”
“On three,” she said, again.
“Yes. On three.” We counted together.
On three, we stood and ran.
We passed the Cookie Place, and Burger King, ran down the short hallway that led to both the restrooms on the right and stopped at the security door across from them. We did not need to turn to see that zombies ensued. Lots of them. Thankfully, slow runners. About the only break we’ve had so far.
I grabbed the knob and twisted. The door opened. Second break. We entered the postage-stamp sized office and closed the door, and squatted down. The room was mostly windows. If the things didn’t see us enter, they didn’t need to know where we were. From the floor, I scanned the room. A radio charging base was on the counter. Three of the five radios were missing. Two were left, and hopefully, were fully charged.
“Flashlight,” Allison said.
I followed her line of sight. It was long, looked solid, like it might be filled with six D batteries. It could serve two purposes. Light, and as a weapon.
Staying low, I tugged on cabinet drawers. They were all locked. I didn’t see guns anywhere. Which made sense. Now. The guards probably had to supply their own weapons. The mall wasn’t going to stockpile an armory. I shook my head, discouraged.
“Help me find keys.”
“What kind?”
“Keys. Any kind,” I said. “You take the flashlight.”
She carefully reached up and took it off the counter. “It’s heavy.”
“You can use it to bash a zombie’s skull, okay?”
She nodded. “The radios?”
“We’re taking those, too. But right now, keys.”
Checking anywhere that wasn’t locked inside a drawer, we came up empty. No keys. That was a strike. I really wanted a vehicle. I had to kneel to reach the radio charger. As I removed the two radios, I chanced a look at the windows and almost vomited.
They’d been quiet. Maybe just watching us. Like they were at a zoo, and we were animals in a display. At least ten zombies, hands and faces pressed against the glass. Bile and blood and filth scummed up the windows.
“Okay,” I said, sitting on the floor next to Allison, our backs pressed against the door. “We’re kinda screwed.”
“Why? What?” She said. “They’re all out there, aren’t they?”
I nodded.
“A lot?”
“A lot.”
Allison turned on one of the radios. It squawked. Chirped. Then static hissed through the tiny speaker. She depressed the button on the side. “Hello, anyone? Hello?”
When she released the button, more static. She spun the top knob, switching channels and repeated her greeting.
“Maybe they’re short wave. Reach out only a mile or so?” I said.
“What do we do, I mean, how are we going to get out of this room. It feels like a coffin now.”