
The Zombie Chronicles Book 1:

Outbreak

By:

Mark Clodi

&

Mike Keleman

A Zombie Chronicles book

Discover other titles in the Zombie Chronicles Universe at:

http://www.ctales.com.com

Copyright © 2016 by Mark Clodi

First Edition: July 2010 Current edition: October 2016 version 3.1

Cover "Where Souls Disappear" designed and © by Michael Picco, 2009.

License Notes

No part of this publication may be reproduced or stored into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means (electric, scanned, photocopied, recording or otherwise) without the prior written approval of the copyright holder and publisher of this book. The distribution of this book without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author by purchasing this book.

Table of Contents:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 1

'My weekend? Not much new on my side. I did get up to the foothills and get a small hike in. Then I took the family out for...' Max was sitting at his desk writing an email to his buddy in Iowa when he heard a terrible scream that brought his typing to an immediate stop. He waited a second, listening intently trying to determine if he truly had heard something or just imagined it. A second scream came echoing down the hallway and into his open cubical. Max was out of his chair and jogging down the hall immediately. As Max rounded a corner, he nearly collided head on with Fred from accounting. He glanced off Fred's right side and continued down the hall calling over his shoulder, "Call the police Fred, I think someone is hurt!"

After sprinting about a hundred feet, Max skidded to a stop in front of the Marketing offices. Inside he saw someone laying on the ground with another person kneeling over them. The woman on the ground appeared to be Nancy, Director of Marketing.

"I think she had a heart attack," said Bob, who worked in the neighboring department, permits.

"You think this was a heart attack, Bob, with all this blood?" Max questioned, still standing in the hallway.

"Hey, are you okay? There's blood on your shirt." Bob said, pointing to Max.

As Max looked down at his shirt he noticed Fred lumbering around the corner.

"What blood? Hey, Fred turn around and call for some paramedics! Dumb ass." Max uttered the last part quietly to himself.

"I think it is too late for an emergency crew, she's dead Max."

"No, look, her hand is starting to move, I had better start CPR." Max quickly got down beside the woman and gently put his right hand under the back of her neck; he then placed his other hand on her forehead and gently tipped her whole head back causing Nancy's mouth to open. Max pressed his lips to hers and suddenly her eyes sprang wide open.

In order to give Max the necessary room to work around Nancy, Bob had retreated towards the doorway. Looking down on Nancy and Max he said, "Nancy you are going to be all right, we have someone calling for an ambulance, just stay still and...Aaahh! Fred! What the fuck are you doing! Stop it man! Stop iiiiitttttt!" Bob's gurgling noises slowly rose in pitch until they took on the rhythm and cadence of a whistling train.

Max, trying to comfort Nancy looked up to see Fred nuzzling on Bob's neck like a newborn on his mothers breast, the man slowly pressed his lips and mouth against Bob's neck and slurped the blood that was coming out of his severed artery. Nancy started to rise, Max automatically held her down.

"Nancy, you need to stay still until the ambulance gets here. Nancy! Stop it Nancy!" Max looked at the woman and saw a dull glint in her eyes, just as Fred has.

Mercifully, Bob's high-pitched gurgling had stopped and when Max looked back he saw that Fred was now holding Bob up and was more actively eating through Bob's neck. Slowly Max sat back into a crouching position, his hands no longer holding her down, Nancy rose up simultaneously focusing her intense gaze on Max. Quicker than he would have thought possible Nancy reached for Max with her colorless arms.

_'I always liked that shirt on Nancy_.' Max thought, followed immediately by, _'I gotta get out of here!_ ' Nancy's flailing arms caught on Max's shirt and started pulling him towards her now gaping mouth. Max pulled back and ended up on his butt, frantically backpedaling, stomach up, on his feet and hands to stay ahead of Nancy.

Backing into the wall in the hallway Max knew it was time to get up and run, he just could not bring himself to do it. The scene that was unfolding around him was just too much to be real. Nancy was slowly crawling towards him.

Sitting with his back against the wall, Max could feel the coldness of the tile floor on his hands. His brain was frantically sending messages to his legs to get up, get moving, but they did not respond. Slowly, Nancy crawled towards his out stretched legs.

...four feet away.

' _This had to be some kind of nightmare._ ' Max thought, _'This cannot not be happening.'_

...three feet away.

Move legs, MOVE. The message was sent but all Max could manage was to spread his feet apart. There, picture framed between his feet, Max could see Nancy's slack face moving ever closer and yet he just sat still letting her get closer.

...two feet away.

He could feel the blood underneath him, who was it from? Nancy? Bob? Fred? His own? It had spread across the floor and now was soaking into his pant legs. This was it; he was going to die.

Slowly, he bent his right knee, pulling his foot backwards. Max's brain fired a signal and his foot snapped out towards Nancy's face. He had intended a direct hit on her nose, but the heel of his shoe glanced off her left cheek exposing muscle and bone. Nancy still advanced, her cloudy eyes never leaving her prey. He kicked again, this time skipping a blow off her forehead, which caused her whole head to jerk back unnaturally. Nancy managed to wrap her lifeless hand around his left ankle. Her touch caused an uncontrollable panic to course through him. Frantically, Max kicked again but the fear of desperation caused him to completely miss the intended target. Max could feel himself sliding towards Nancy; she was pulling him. Max spread his fingers and tried to dig his nails into the floor, something, and anything to stop her. The crimson liquid provided no friction against the tile. This was it.

Nancy lowered her head towards Max's calf and that spurred Max to act again, he swung his left foot around, briefly thinking of the old movie -My Left Foot- it swung around and thudded into Nancy's head. Her head snapped back and she let go of Max's ankle. Unable to regain his position leaning up against the wall, Max rolled his body like a log as far away from Nancy as he could get, then he went face down and climbed to his hands and knees. Nancy scrambled around uselessly on the floor, Bob's blood was working against her as she struggled to get some traction and make headway towards Max. At this point Fred chewed through the last of Bob's neck and the man's body fell on top of Nancy, distracting her from Max. As Max watched, Nancy growled in a feral manner and started chewing Bob's legs, as if this horror was not bad enough, her positioning looked like something out of a pornography movie Max remembered seeing when he was in college. Fortunately, Max was able to tear his eyes away from the gruesome scene before he could see the parody truly begin. Max climbed to his feet, and then edged his way along the wall until he could muster his strength enough to run back to the dubious safety of his cubical.

"Holy shit, dude, what happened to you?!" This voice was from Max's arch office rival, Steve 'the bastard'. Death has a way of changing all alliances and Max was relieved to see Steve, to see anyone who did not share the 'dead' eyes of Fred and Nancy. Slowly, Max turned his head, looked at Steve, and raised an eyebrow while bringing his finger to his lips in the universal gesture of 'Shut the F up' or 'shhhh'; depending on the age of the targeted audience. Steve stopped in his tracks and, for once, shut up. Becoming more aware of himself Max realized he was coated in Bob's blood, his shirt, previously a nice button up of one hundred percent cotton, was now a wet bloody covered mess. His khakis had fared no better and both hands were crimson splattered as well. Had some of it gotten on his lips?

Thinking quickly Max ran down possible things to say, 'I didn`t do it' sprang to mind, then he thought of explaining that apparently Fred and Nancy were zombies and eating Bob in Nancy's office right now; 'Nope', he decided, that would take too long. Instead he whispered, "Fred went crazy and killed Nancy and Bob, he is in Nancy's office. Go call the police."

The blood, the 'shhhh' and the whisper must have worked as Steve turned without a word and ran quietly off towards his cube. Max followed just as silently, like a shadow and soon found himself sitting next to Steve while the man called the police. Steve could not get through and kept trying to redial, never saying a word as he looked at Max. Finally, with the phone pressed to one ear he said quietly, "It was you, wasn't it? You finally flipped out."

Shaking his head Max replied, "Me? Me? C'mon Steve! It was not me! If I wanted to start a killing spree, I would at least bring a gun. It was Fred, he was acting all weird, and he was attacking Nancy when Bob spotted him, he came and got me, together we went to see what was going on. When we got there I tried to help Nancy, then Fred grabbed Bob and attacked him too. Nancy would have gotten me, she almost did, but she slipped in all the blood and I kicked her in the head and got out."

"Yeah? So, if we go back to Nancy's office she should still be there unconscious? Uh, yeah, yeah I am here!" This last was into the phone, the emergency operator had finally answered, "Send someone right away, a guy here went crazy and attacked some of my co-workers, there's blood everywhere. No, I think the guy who did it is knocked out. No, no guns, it must have been a knife there is blood everywhere. What? No I didn't see it, I got the guy who saw it all right here, yeah he is okay, I think. Hang on. You okay Max?" Max nodded yes, "Yeah, yeah he is fine. Sure I will stay on the line with you until the police get here."

C **hapter 2**

Finally able to catch his breath, Max recapped his morning. It had started like any other with his quiet radio alarm going off at four-twenty; he slapped on the snooze button and fell back asleep almost immediately. Then he hit it again at four twenty-nine, this time turning it off for good. Why did snooze buttons only add nine minutes to your sleep; why not some normal amount of time like ten minutes or even better fifteen minutes, why nine? That seemed random to Max. He quietly left the bed doing his best not wake Sarah, his wife of fourteen-years.

Like a blind man, he navigated his way through the darkness around the queen-sized bed and out the door into the hallway towards the bathroom. He had showered, shaved, gotten dressed and was out the door by five. Max had his routine down perfectly.

As he drove his red nineteen ninety-four Toyota truck to work he listened to his radio station WWEB. As usual, there was a sports show on re-capping yesterday's scores. Max enjoyed listening to morning DJ, Blake 'the snake'; he was hotheaded, opinionated and usually irritated the hell out of Max. Despite this Max tuned in religiously to his show on the drive to work. Living in Colorado, Max should have been a Rockies fan but Max was intently listening for the score of the Dodgers/Cubs game. He had always been a Dodger's 'faithful' ever since he transferred from Western State College in Colorado to the University of Southern California - a move that had cost him dearly in student loans.

"Cards five, Reds three," the voice on the radio announced.

At this time in the morning, traffic was minimal. Max drove his way through the neighborhood streets onto Wadsworth, a main street that ran north and south through the towns of Westminster, Arvada, and Wheatridge. Crap, red light, Max used the delay to adjust the knob on his radio to try to get clearer reception. Glancing up from his radio, he noticed what looked to be a homeless man, a drunken homeless man from the way he was slowly staggering towards the truck. Still waiting for the green light, he watched the poor soul and wondered how this man had become homeless. Had he been fired or maybe he had mental problems that didn't allow him to hold down a normal job?

"Ahhh hell, here he comes looking for a handout." Max's charity ended at feeling sorry for the homeless, not giving them money. "Change, change, change" Max chanted to the red light. The homeless man slowly put one uneasy foot in front of the other and continued on his path toward Max. Green light, Max, felt only elation, as he stepped on the accelerator and sped off towards the on ramp to interstate seventy.

The engine responded and the needle on his speedometer started to move from thirty-five to forty. Max leaned into the curve and then straightened out the truck preparing to merge onto the highway. The speedometer now read fifty-five miles per hour. Max would soon be hitting eighty as he passed the all too familiar exits; Sheridan, Federal, Pecos, and finally, what Coloradoans called, the 'Mouse Trap'. Exactly where the two major interstates married, a single accident could bring all the traffic to a halt. From here, he could see the first rays of the sun starting to make their way over the horizon. Max turned the steering wheel of his truck so that he could merge onto the other highway, interstate twenty-five, and head south.

"Braves six, Mets zero."

Max had a busy day planned; there was usually a full day of work to be done on a Friday before the long Fourth of July weekend. Since Monday was a holiday he figured that most of his colleagues would be gone today extending their vacation. Less people around meant that he might actually get something accomplished.

"Astros four, D-backs one."

Max enjoyed his early morning drive to work. Sure, there were other vehicles on the road, mostly trucks - delivery trucks, Fed EX, UPS, Hostess, guys drinking coffee from large plastic travel mugs driving F150's with their companies name stenciled on the door. Contractors, subcontractors, and consultants he speculated. Who else would be up this early in the morning? Max was none of the above. He was a computer programmer for the MAC Corporation and just liked to get an early start to his day so that he could avoid some of the ever-increasing traffic.

"Pirates eleven in a shootout over the Giants with nine."

Max had worked for the MAC Corporation for four years now, one more year and he would be vested in his retirement plan with the company and he would also receive fifteen days of vacation a year in lieu of the usual ten that a new hire was awarded. That is why he was working today. It was only July and Max had already spent six of his vacation days. Moreover, his philosophy was, why take a day off when no one else was going to be around? Save it for skiing this winter was his plan.

"Jays seven, Yankees zero."

Crap, the radio announcer had moved on to the American League, he must have missed the Dodgers score. No, Max was not your stereotypical computer programmer. He was not over weight; he showered, tried to eat healthy, and had interests in things other than Sci-Fi movies and the latest computer games. Not that such 'stereotyped' programmers existed anymore anyway, nowadays being a programmer was just another way to make a living. Max's four-wheel drive truck allowed him to enjoy all that the Colorado outdoors had to offer. He hiked in the summer and skied in the winter. On these trips, he usually went solo. Sarah had other interests to keep her busy, although she had camped with him from time to time. Max did not mind going alone or with his son, it gave him time to think about life and enjoying silence was one of the reasons he went.

Glancing down at his watch, he read five thirty-three. Not bad, he was about ten minutes away from the Tech Center where the MAC Corporate building was located and he would only be a little late this morning.

As he returned, his attention to the road ahead of him Max could see red and blue lights flashing in the early morning light. A cop and instinctively he hit the brakes and slowed his truck down to the posted speed limit. The police officer had his cruiser parked on the shoulder of the road behind some unlucky motorist. Max couldn't resist taking a quick glance to see what was happening.

The police car was parked behind a white four-door sedan. The driver's door was open but Max could not see the owner of the vehicle. Or the cop for that matter. Maybe they were on the other side of the car changing a tire. Perhaps, in the dim morning light and based on the fact he was doing fifty-five miles an hour he had just failed to notice them. Either way, Max was happy it was that guy, and not him, who had gotten the early morning ticket.

The last ten minutes of his drive were uneventful as he passed the usual landmarks - Mile High Stadium, the Gates Rubber factory and a few other exits before finally getting off the freeway. A few minutes later Max had turned into his normal parking spot and killed the engine. Even though there were a hundred or so, empty parking spaces Max always steered his truck to the same spot every morning, Monday through Friday. It was one of those "creature of habit" kinds of things.

As he walked towards the side employee entrance that provided the shortest distance from the parking lot to his ground floor cube, Max went over his to-do list for the day. First, he had to email his buddy and see if...

"Max! Did you hear me? The dispatcher wants one of us to go to the main entrance and wait for the police. Since I am on the phone that leaves you, get going, I think I hear sirens."

That is how his day had begun, simple, quiet, normal. It had now evolved into something as far from his daily routine as he thought it could get. Pushing open the door to the hallway, he wondered what he would find next.

Chapter 3

The hallway was as quiet as church on a Friday night, that was not good. The main entrance was past Max's desk and though he hated to do it, he stopped by and picked up his 'office' bat. Signed by Steve Garvey this Louisville Slugger was a minor prize among the items in Max's collection, not too valuable to keep in his shrine at work, just impressive enough to 'ooh' and 'ahh' his co-workers. Now if Garvey ever made it into the hall of fame, the bat would become something more treasured and might have to be brought home for the 'wall of fame' that Max was slowly building next to his mantle. For now, it should prove useful if Fred or Nancy would come calling. He made his way to the front doors of MAC CO. without seeing anyone. The security guard the company employed to sit at the desk in the lobby didn't start until seven forty-five, so this was not unusual.

He did not see anyone. Something was definitely wrong, a few phones were ringing, he did hear a muffled conversation, but he saw no one. In a busy office building, during business hours, on a Friday, people had to be around. Sure, sure, it was only seven in the morning, but a few of the 'regulars' should have been in by now. Max held his bat and waited, shifting his grip around, looking at the number 'six' on the end of the handle and the 'Good luck, Steve Garvey' in faded ink near the top of the bat. Bloodstains, were now evident from Max's grip, he looked around, thought for a moment, propped the front door open with a trashcan and then ducked back into the hallway towards the men's room. It had only been a couple minutes, no way could the police get here that quickly with the rush hour just starting but he didn't want to take a chance of missing them.

Stepping into the men's room the first thing Max saw was a pool of dried blood on the floor in front of the handicapped stall. That door was closed, but not completely. Max stopped, looked around and slowly lowered the tip of the bat down onto the floor then used it to lower his body down and get a look under the stall door. Two sets of legs; one, obviously on the pot, feet pointed towards the stall door and the other set shuffling about slightly, pointed towards the toilet. Suddenly a slight sucking/chewing sound came from the stall, as if an animal had continued feeding, but was briefly interrupted and then decided to start eating again. Blood was running down the basin of the toilet bowl, towards the rear of the stall and the industrial sized drain located there.

_Blood. Right._ Max slowly stood up, looked over at the paper towel dispenser, at the door, at that handicap stall, then at the blood staining his precious bat. Tick. Tick. Tick. Between the sounds of eating, Max could hear the sounds of his watch hand ticking in what seemed like thunderous noise to his ears. He took a step towards the paper towel rack, the eating sounds stopped, after a few seconds they resumed. Max took another step, the eating did not pause, two silent steps later Max was at the paper towel rack slowly easing towels out of the dispenser onto the counter next to the sink, steadily watching the stall door and listening to the sounds within. As he reached for more towels his hands found empty air, he swung around to see what the problem was and caught the bathroom view in the mirror above the sink.

_A zombie! Right there!_ Max let out a scream and swung his bat up, the same time the zombie swung his arm up and around toward him. Max whirled around swinging behind him and in an instance, no one was there. He was still alone in the area in front of the sink. After a second Max realized he had not seen a zombie, he had seen his own reflection, bloody shirt, a thin line of blood vertical over his lips from when he 'shhhh-ed' Steve and wild eyes. He even had drying blood in his hair on one side, congealing and making the hair stand stiffly out from his head at a ninety degree angle. Max started laughing at his mistake, a kind of 'whew glad that was nothing' sort of laugh, that he could not stop himself from releasing. The noise from the handicap stall door swinging outward and hitting the wall startled Max from his revelry.

No one or better yet, no 'thing' immediately emerged from the stall. Seconds felt like minutes. Slowly Max again placed the end of his bat on the floor and used it to lower himself again for a peek under the stall.

There were still two sets of legs but now both pairs of feet were pointing away from the toilet.

_Fight or flight?_ Max had remembered hearing that statement but could not remember where. Maybe it had been used to describe animal instincts on the Discovery Channel once but he could not recall. All he knew was that he had a decision to make and he had better make it quick.

Fight or flight?

The decision was made, flight sounded pretty damn good right about now especially since the close confines of the bathroom didn't allow Max to swing his bat as freely as he would like. With three giant strides, Max ran towards the handicap stall and with his right hand, he slammed the door back towards the occupants inside. If Max could make it out into the hallway, he was sure he could out run any pursuers.

Max didn't know if it was his imagination but he sensed hands clawing at his back. This feeling caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end and gave him a queasy feeling in his stomach. He lowered his shoulder and blasted into the men's room door swinging it wide open as he left the room. The door clanged against the adjacent wall and slowly the pneumatic closer fastened at the top of the door started to return the door to the closed position; too slowly.

The collision with the door spun Max around and he lost his balance and tumbled to the floor. He could hear the familiar sound of wood clanking on the hard tile as his bat bounced away from him. Max loved that sound, it reminded him of hot summer days spent watching overpaid baseball players and drinking overpriced beers.

Max rolled onto his stomach and then frantically crawled on all fours back towards the men's room door. From inside he heard a low moaning. When he reached the door, he spun around, put his back to it and braced it shut with his feet. Something tried to open the door, slowly forcing it up. Max sensed himself once again starting to slide on the highly polished floor tiles. The door cracked open an inch.

"Steve!" he yelled as he tried to dig his heels in. Was he still on the telephone?

Max tried to hold his position but the thing on the other side of the door had better leverage. Slowly he started to slide a little more.

"Steve! Get your ass over here! Help! Steve!"

Would Steve ignore his calls for help? He couldn't, could he? Not at a time like this. They had their differences but this was life or death; not who gets the next promotion.

Max heard footsteps, quick footsteps, running footsteps. Steve was coming. If he could hold, the door for just a little longer Steve would be there and they could trap the thing in the men's room.

The door was now about a foot open. Above his head, he could hear the slapping of flesh on the metal of the door.

"Hold it right there!" The yell came from the lobby and it was a woman. Max lifted his head and looked right into the barrel of a pistol. It was a police officer, a blonde female police officer. Her feet were spread apart for stability and she held the gun firmly clasped between both hands. Her left eye was pinched shut but Max could clearly see her right eye looking down the barrel at him.

"I said, hold it right there!"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Don't move!"

"There is a..." _'There's a what?'_ Max thought. _'A zombie eating someone on the other side who wants to eat me you if you don't blow his head off? Would a trained officer of the law believe this story?'_ It's not likely.

"...I've got a murderer trapped and if you don't do something about it we are both in big trouble."

Max then heard two sounds; the first being the squeaking of his hands sliding across the floor and was soon pinned between the door and the adjacent wall.

The second sound was a loud explosion that was amplified by the hard surfaces of the floor and walls. His ears were left ringing in the aftermath of the shot.

Max pushed his hands against the wall and fell back against the floor. The men's room door did not completely close; there was a set of blood stained designer suit pants pinned between the door and the frame.

"Murderer, huh? Looked more like a zombie to me." The officer said. Max turned his head towards her. She was standing above him with an outstretched hand. He grabbed it. It was warm but not sweaty, must be the training. Regardless, it made him feel a little safer. She pulled Max to his feet.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I think most of this blood is someone else's. What took you so long?"

"Hey, count yourself lucky, we've been dealing with these problems all morning. Had I not been on my way back to the station when I got the call you would have been on your own."

She grabbed the radio from her belt and spoke into it: "HQ, Alpha 6, over?" They both waited for a response.

"This is Alpha 6; I have a possible 11-56 requesting a Code10. Do you copy?"

As they listened to the silence on the radio, Max took survey of the officer. She looked to be in her mid-twenties and stood a little over five and a half feet tall. She wore the standard Denver Police uniform, dark blue, with a black leather belt housing multiple items; handcuffs, pepper spray, a club, and a holster for her side arm. Her left forearm was wrapped with a bandage. She wore no hat but her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. 'To Serve and Protect' read a small gold pin above her badge. Max thought that she was surprisingly cute for a cop.

"Are there others like him wandering around here?" She asked, as she pointed at the feet sticking out the doorway.

"Yeah, two more maybe, or possibly three now, that I know of."

"What about normal people, any of those left in here?"

_Normal?_ That sounded funny. Max guessed that Steve could pass as normal.

"Ah, yes, one more, Steve, back the other way. But that's all I've seen this morning."

"Actually, I'm right here." Steve said as he crept from an office entrance.

Just how long had Steve been there? Had he witnessed the entire thing and not attempted to help him? Max wouldn't put it past Steve to do a thing like that. It seemed unimaginable but he guessed that some people would do anything to protect themselves. Max retrieved his bat and looked at Steve and the officer, "What do we do now?"

Chapter 4

"For starters let's see if we can block most of the doors, at least we need to push furniture up against them and make it hard for the lumbering undead to get into the building. Then we round up any survivors, then we finish off any trapped undead, clearing the building room by room." The officer said.

"Whoa-whoa-whoa there, little lady." said Steve raising his hands in front of him as he spoke, "Undead? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Alright tough guy," she started jabbing a menacing finger into Steve's chest, "it's Officer Stewart, don't call me 'little lady' again, now listen and listen carefully." She stopped her threatening pokes and continued, "All morning we've been getting calls where people are being attacked, um, no, more like eaten by other people. There were a few calls as early as last night. Some pizza delivery guy chewed through a family of four. I've personally taken out nine of the things so far, including that guy in the men's room. Now, if I were you, I would call my friends and family and tell them to start boarding up their windows and..."

"Oh shit, I gotta call my wife." Max said as he fumbled for his cell phone. Once he got it out and started a call back to his home, he moved down the corridor a little to get away from Steve and Officer Stewarts' arguing, which was growing quite heated. "C'mon, c'mon, pick up honey, pick it up!"

"Hello?" a sleepy voice said on the other end of the line.

"Sarah! Sarah! Are you okay, baby?"Asked Max.

"Okay? Okay? Max what are you talking about, of course, I am fine. What has happened? What is wrong?"

Standing there in blood coated clothing that was hardening around his body like an eggshell, Max really didn't know where to begin.

"Sarah, things have gone wrong, there are some really bad people out running around the city and I want you and the kids to stay safe. In fact, I want you to stay more than safe. Barricade the back door and the doors from the garage, move tables and chairs in front of them. Leave the front door locked and dead bolted; if I can get home, I will come to the front door. Then I want you to..."

"Max, Max, stop it Max! What are you talking about, bad people? What bad people? Are there terrorists in Denver? Why would they come for me? Is it your job?"

"No, no honey, nothing like that okay, worse in a way, they won't come for you....Hold on a sec honey... Hey, Steve and Stewart! Keep it down you wanna just tell everything in hearing distance we are here? Go move the furniture in the lobby in front of the doors, okay, but stop yelling! Sorry hun, no I don't have time to tell you everything, but I guess there are some really bad people running around and there could be a lot of them from what I just heard. You need to take the kids and hide up in the attic, bring water, food, blankets, everything. Get the porta-potty I use for camping out of the garage and move it up there if you can do it. You have to promise me you will stay there no matter what you hear in the house, if everything is quiet you can probably come down to use the bathroom when you need to. Oh, fill up the tub with water and the sinks and any containers we have laying around too."

"Max, I am looking out the drapes, there are some people out there walking around really slow, like they are on drugs or something."

A chill went up Max's spine, "Honey, don't let them see you, the uh, druggies are very, very violent! Slow but violent, like, um, zombies. And they will kill you and the kids if you let them see you!" Max was practically screaming into the phone now, "Take your cell phone up into the attic the zo... druggies have lower coordination when they are...high and cannot climb things really well."

"Max you are scaring me; you're scared too, aren't you? I will do it, you just get somewhere safe come home if you can. I will get the kids up into the attic right now and wait for you, are you coming home right now?"

"As soon as I can baby, as soon as I can."

"Max," said Sarah with near hysteria in her voice, "Max, are you going to be okay?"

"Relax baby, relax, I have a police officer here with me, she'll take care of me, I am more worried about you. I don't know what's happening in the rest of the city but from what I hear, it's not good. That's why I want you to get the kids, some food and some water up into the attic. You have to just do it, please, okay. Oh, honey, one more thing."

"No." Max could tell Sarah was still crying, but her voice was firm.

"Aw honey, c'mon you gotta do it, it will make me feel better just to know you have it with you."

Years before Max had inherited a German Luger his grandfather brought home from his years of service in World War II, coming from a family that owned guns Max knew how to care for them and considered the Luger more of an investment than a home protection device. Sarah, on the other hand, used to have a younger brother. When he was eleven, he went over to a friend's house to play and never came home. Playing that day involved the handgun collection of his friend's father and in a day and age where safety locks were not yet mainstream his friend had shot and killed her brother. The trauma of losing her brother provoked in Sarah a hatred of guns that was beyond illogical. When Max inherited his grandfather's gun, Sarah had taken the kids to a hotel for three nights. Eventually she returned home when Max had installed a gun safe to hold the gun, a wall safe to hold the ammo and a child safety lock with two keys, one normally kept in a safety deposit box at the bank, and one on Max's key chain. Sarah knew the combination to both safes and as they had recently decided to close their safety, deposit box the second key to the gunlock was now in the same safe as the gun's ammunition.

"I won't, Max. Look, you know I don't even know how to fire it, it won't do me any good anyway and I will feel like I am leaving a rattlesnake lying around no matter where I put it. I will grab a bat from Nick's room and that will have to do. Any druggies managing to get up into the attic will have to contend with an aluminum bat to the head. And if you still need the gun you can get it when you get home."

"Okay, okay, I would just feel better if you had it with you. Anyone coming in and not yelling your name, you brain 'em, okay?"

"Don't worry Max; no one will get in anyway. I will call you when the kids and I are up in the attic, some of those druggies look kind of bloody and I don't want to chance them breaking in on me before I am ready."

"I gotta go too, it looks like the police officer and Steve are about to kill each other. I love you baby, take care of the kids and I will talk to you when you are safe."

"Well, I like the police officer already, she shows good judgment. I love you too. Max, be careful. Bye."

"Bye baby."

Chapter 5

The MAC Corporate building was built in the early nineteen eighties, from the outside looked like four stories of steel and reflective blue glass. The structure had very little to offer from an architectural viewpoint. No fancy atrium, no grand entrances or spectacular artwork adorned either the outside nor inside of this relatively plain, rectangular building. When compared to the neighbors around it, the MAC Co. building was average at best.

After the September eleventh, terrorist attacks upper management decided to invest in added security and emergency equipment. Every entrance got modified and now required a card key to gain access. When the card was swiped past the reader a security system would record the identity of the card owner, check to make sure that the person was allowed in that section of the building, and if approved, the system would then release a magnetic lock at the top of the door. Most employees seemed to think the security system was just another way for management to keep tabs on them. Take too many long lunches or multiple cigarette breaks and you might find yourself looking for a new job.

Another change that resulted from the increased security was the installation of a large generator on the south side of the building. Should MAC Co. lose power the generator would automatically turn on and supply emergency power to the building's main systems; security, telephones, and designated lighting.

"How many entrances does this place have?" Stewart inquired.

Looking at Steve for confirmation Max responded, "One main entrance and three side ones. There's one on each side of the building." Steve thought for a moment mentally counting to himself and then nodded his approval of Max's answer.

"Is that the main security desk that I passed?" Officer Stewart did not wait for an answer, made her way to the desk and plopped down into the empty chair behind it. There was also a computer monitor showing shots of the cameras located by the building doors and, of course, a computer. The computer was mostly used by the security guard to play solitaire but it also served the intended purpose of displaying the key card information when an employee entered or exited the building.

"It has been nice hanging out with you guys and Officer, I appreciate what you did for me, but I have a family that needs me so I'll be leaving now." Max announced.

"You're welcome. Good luck getting past them." Stewart said pointing at the television screen. The north camera that provided the best view of the parking structure showed somewhere in the neighborhood of five or six figures milling about.

"You don't understand. I have a wife and kids that need me."

"I'd bet that they need you alive more than dead." Steve added.

"You know what? Fuck you Steve. What do you have? A stupid cat waiting for you? Bite me, asshole."

"Hey man, go for it; don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out."

Max looked at Stewart and studied her face trying to determine what her opinion was. Unfortunately, he saw that she agreed with Steve.

"Don't look at me," Stewart said, "the most significant relationship I've had over the past year was a one night stand with some jackass I met after a Broncos game." From the look on Steve's face, that was the best news he had heard all morning.

"You think the army or National Guard will be called in?" Max asked, hoping.

"I'd say that the current situation justifies it but who knows? It is not good out there and I think it is just going to get worse, much worse. If I can't even raise anyone at HQ, well, that tells you something too."

"Not to change the subject, but I will. Since it sounds like we are planning on staying, no one without a key card will be able to get in, right?" Steve asked.

"Not unless you move that, Steve-o." Stewart said, pointing at the trashcan propping the door open.

Steve dragged the trashcan back into the building and tested to door to make sure that the lock activated.

Stewart managed to pull up the security log on the computer. "As of right now I see twenty entries of people who should be in this building. That leaves twenty unaccounted for."

"No, no eighteen, no wait, two guys in the bathroom, that's sixteen left unaccounted for. Let us see that list; Bob - dead, Fred –undead and ditto for Nancy. I think that guy in the bathroom was named Rod, not sure, but there is a Rod Uberton on the list so that was probably him. Plus the guy on the toilet, I didn't look, but I'm sure he was hamburger meat, anyway Rod, undead and dead again."

"Hey, is there a function that allows you to deny all access? If there is, we could lock up the building so that no one else gets in or out."

"I don't know, Steve, if I want to be locked in here," Max offered, "and what if someone who isn't...isn't one of them wants to get in and needs our help, what then?"

"Fuck 'em. It's not our problem. Let them find their own building I say."

"What do you think?" Max said, looking at Stewart for support.

"I don't know if I want to be locked in either. I highly doubt that our friends, the undead, are smart enough to break in and if I were on my way to work and found myself being chased by a few of those things and expected my card key to work, only to find my ass hanging in the wind I'd be pretty pissed off. Before we let anyone else in, we need to make damn sure that they are not going to want a bite out of us, agreed?"

"No shit?" Steve said, sarcastically.

"No shit. Alright, let's all go check the remaining doors and then figure out where's the best place to hold up and defend if need be." Stewart announced standing up from behind the desk.

Max could not believe that he was trapped and unable to reach his family. It made him impatient; really impatient, as if each minute that slipped by put one more zombie between him and his family. He was convinced so easily to stay put and for that, he felt guilty. Was he being selfish, putting his own safety before that of his family? Max forced himself not to think about it, there was nothing he could do now other than make sure that he survived long enough to give himself a chance to see his family again. That is all he wanted, a chance.

As the three of them began their check of the building, the security log registered a twenty-fourth entry. Nancy Wieden, Director of Marketing Department, seven thirteen, East Door Interior Card Reader, Approved. Nancy was hungry and somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered leaving the building when she ate, clients. The blood and flesh she was able to consume from Bob had partially restored her. It had given her a portion of her memory back and allowed her to think in a slow, sluggish way. She recalled having breakfasts, lunches, and dinners with clients, new and old. That is what someone in marketing does. Yes, and she had been damn good at her job. She needed to find a client in the worst way and fast. She could already feel Bob's energy slipping away. With one high heel missing and Max's favorite shirt covered in drying blood, Nancy started her lopsided walk across the parking lot.

The search for new clients had begun.

Chapter 6

The first stop was Max's cube. Steve elected to stay at his cube a dozen feet away so long as Officer Stewart stayed halfway between both areas, with her gun drawn and ready for trouble.

_'Another Stevism, making friends and influencing people,'_ thought Max. Safely in his cube, Max went through his desk drawers looking for the work out clothing he usually kept there _. 'It has been awhile; maybe I brought that stuff home? Nope? Ah-ha! Oh no.'_ Max had not brought his work out clothing home, a pair of shorts, running shoes and a gray t-shirt was awaiting him, the problem was the shirt, one of those funky sayings he was pretty sure was not too appropriate for the day's events, 'Smile, at least your alive!' Somewhere back in his head he remembered picking up several of these lame t-shirts at a Christian church yard sale, all of the logos tried really hard to make a concise, political zinger, all of them were pretty close to 'Smile, at least your alive'. It was even worse that the spelling for 'you're' was 'your', which was another reason Max bought the thing in the first place. Sarah had thought he was being pretty vicious and sarcastic about it and had threatened to throw it out if she ever caught him wearing it again. Hence, it was regulated to the work exercise-clothing bin.

"Fuck."

"What is wrong Max?" Stewart asked.

"Ah nothing, nada, just my workout clothes kind suck, but given the alternative, I will take 'em. Hey Steve don't suppose you have a spare t-shirt I can have?"

Steve prairie dogged over the cube and said, "Nope, only losers work out at work, I hit the gym every day at four thirty before I come in."

"Every day?" Stewart asked sarcastically.

"Now that you mention it, can we head over to the company gym so I can at least shower off real quick?"

"Abso-lute-a-mente, compadre. I would insist myself, you might get brained if someone who was not your close personal friend saw you right now. I will use the phone in the loser workout room while you shower. Officer Stewart, have I mentioned I am single? You can look in on both of us while I am calling from the list and you are showering off the blood." said Steve.

"Single? You don't say, Steve. I wonder why you haven't been pulled out of circulation by some lucky lady," to Max Stewart said, "Don't worry Max one of you two will have your back covered."

"See?" said Steve, "She likes me already."

"Say Max is Steve looking like a zombie to you? He is starting to look a little gray around the throat and face to me. Plus, he is spewing 'zingers' worthy of someone without any brains... Yeah I better cap him before he attacks us." Stewart starts to swing her gun around.

"Whoa! Whoa! I was kidding!" Steve ducked back under his cube wall, after a second or two he said, "Let's get going, alright? It is bad enough we have to wait around for shower boy and time is a wasting."

"Team players gotta love 'em." said Stewart.

They made their way to the company showers, bat, gun and a golf club that had magically appeared in Steve's hand as he emerged from his cube, at the ready. Along the way, Max asked Stewart if she had a first name as referring to her, as 'Officer Stewart' was getting tedious. Stewart beamed at him and said, "You can call me Jane." Turning to Steve, she said, "But 'Officer Stewart' or 'ma'am' will work just fine for you."

The trip to the gym was mercifully short; it was located just down the hall, through the main receiving dock. The door leading to the men's room required a three button code to get in. "What's the super-secret code?" asked Jane.

"Two-One-Three." replied Max.

With a click, the door opened and Jane, lead the two men inside. Max ducked down and checked under the single stall and then in each of the two shower stalls, empty. Thank God for small favors! He stripped quickly and fired up the shower, a few minutes later he was drying off and poking among all the unlocked lockers looking for some other t-shirt to wear. He came across an old sweater with the 'Corn Huskers' logo on it, ugh! Max was not that desperate, the heat was bad enough, but wearing a Nebraska team sweatshirt was liable to get him brained on general principle here in Buffalo territory. Sighing Max pulled his 'Smile at least your alive' shirt over his head and moved out into the gym, heading for the loading dock where he could hear Steve was arguing with Jane... again.

"All I am saying is not all these people are dead, twenty one calls and no answers? They ran and hid somewhere, we need to get on the PA system and call everyone to the main entrance or one of your conference rooms," shot Jane.

"Fuck that, they are deaders, leave 'em and let's make a break for my ride. We can get out of here then and go check on Max's family, then head for the hills."

"Oh, c'mon Steve, just use the PA and call everyone to the conference room." Max said.

Stewart examined Max briefly, "Nice shirt. At least you don't look like a butcher anymore. Steve doesn't know how to use the PA system and he is worried that maybe the dead can understand some words and will meet us wherever we announce. Now that you're here, you can use the PA and get us rolling. YOU'RE. Get it?"

Steve snorted and Max looked a little embarrassed then said, "Ah, I don't know how to use the PA either. I picked it up as a joke; at least it is a hundred percent blood free. Who is on the list of people who came in today? Are any admin assistants?"

Steve looked down the list, "Well, well, we do have one 'Miss Amelia Bryon'; she is Kirkpatrick's assistant on the second floor. Or was; she ain't answering her phone."

"Try again. Didn't you hit on her at the last company party? I seem to recall something about..."

"Yeah, yeah, let's mention how Steve got shot down again. C'mon, man I was two months out of my divorce! The phone is ringing," holding the phone out to Max, "See? No answer, she is a goner."

"Nah, she is probably holed up in Kirkpatrick's office, this is perfect he has like the biggest office on the second floor and it looks over the main entrance and into the parking lot, so we can see when the national guard gets here, makes sense to go there anyway, eh?"

"Ah, I still say we make a run for the parking lot and our cars, once in our cars we should be safe, we can just run anyone down who gets in our way." said Steve.

"Steve! Come on!"

"Fine." Steve hung up the phone.

On the other end, a voice finally answered, too late for Steve to hear.

"Hello? Is anybody there? Kirkpatrick has gone crazy he...he's noticed me! Help me! Send help! Oh God! Stay away from me!"

Chapter 7

Nancy's memory was like sand slipping through her fingers. Images freely came and went. Was she married? Did she have a family? Where did she live? For a few minutes, if she concentrated hard enough she could remember an apartment or a loft. The floor plan was wide open, must have been a loft, she thought. She could see that it was decorated just like a page out of a Pottery Barn catalog. Rich wood floors, brick walls adorned with trendy black and white pictures of people and places. Nancy couldn't remember if she had taken those pictures, or were they people she knew, family maybe? Had she been to any of those places? She just could not remember.

Those thoughts were too distant. Her short-term memory served her better. She had forced herself to come into work early that day. She usually spent several nights a week entertaining clients and rarely arrived at the office any earlier than ten. As head of her department, she had a substantial expense account that she used to retain current clients as well as lure new business. It had taken her a while to adjust to the marketing lifestyle, lots of smiling, listening to stories you could care less about, eating, drinking, flirting, presentations, making deals on a promise and a handshake, and this was all part of the job.

When someone was stupid enough to ask her how old she was Nancy would answer, forty-one, when in truth she was almost forty-seven. Appearances were a major plus in her job so she routinely exercised and regularly visited the salon to have those gray hairs dyed brown. Nancy was taller than the average woman was and she liked to wear high heels to increase her height. For some reason it made her feel more powerful, more in control of her surroundings.

Nancy traditionally worked long hours and had promised herself that she was going to make the three-day weekend into four days of rest and relaxation. In order to do this, she had a few loose ends that she needed to take care of and had decided to be in before any of her staff arrived.

Her inbox had shown thirty-three unread emails. _'Shit,'_ this would slow her down. Nancy started addressing the important ones and simply deleted everything else. She was not accustomed to how quiet her office was that morning. Usually the phone would be ringing, Peggy, her admin assistant, would be standing at her door waiting for approval to enter and discuss some pending issue. All Nancy could hear was the hum of her computer and the gurgling of the coffee pot on Peggy's desk. Usually Nancy would have stopped on her way in at the local coffee shop and bought her caffeine, but nothing had been open so she would have to make do with Peggy's private stash.

Nancy soon became absorbed in her work. She needed the second quarter financial reports from last year. They should be in the top drawer of Peggy's file cabinet. As she rose from her desk, Nancy could hear the last drips of coffee falling into the pot. Perfect. She would multi-task, grab a cup, the reports, and life would be good.

The first part of her plan worked out but when she opened the file where the reports should have been all she found was a yellow sticky note with Peggy's handwriting.

'Fred borrowed 06/28/05'

It didn't surprise her to find Peggy's note. She always created a paper trail. That's why they made such a good team. Peggy was meticulous and Nancy shot from the hip. Peggy had been Nancy's best hire. She had great people skills, was very organized, and a great self-motivator. At first, Nancy wondered if Peggy was a threat to her career. That she might somehow be a Nancy-in-training. However, she would remind herself that Peggy was just an administrative assistant and that made her feel better. The only fault that Nancy found with Peggy was that she was younger and prettier. Nancy knew that it was more of a weakness within herself but nevertheless she couldn't help but hold it against Peggy.

"Not a problem, more time to suck in this sweet caffeine." Nancy told herself as she placed both hands around the cup feeling the radiating warmth. She strolled out of her office and headed down the hall to the accounting department. Her high heels clicked on the floor tiles.

Nancy was confident that she would be able to find the file because Fred, being an accountant, was borderline insane when it came to neatness. "Hell, the file probably had its own private corner of his desk all to itself," she mused.

Immediately Nancy knew something was wrong when she arrived at the entrance to the accounting department. Papers were strewn about the commercial grade carpeting. The bamboo plant that usually sat on the stand outside Fred's office had been knocked to the floor. A pizza box lay on its side with the remaining slices of pepperoni laying on the carpet.

Nancy felt her heartbeat rise. "Fuck me; Fred had a stroke or a heart attack. Poor bastard was probably working late when it hit him and there was no one around to help. What a way to go."

The light to his office was off. That and the idea of Fred sprawled across is neatly organized desk scared the hell out of her. Nancy knew she had to find out what truly happened to see if there was anything, she could do to help and yet she still stood in the hallway with her fresh coffee warming her hands.

It was time. She had to do something, _'Be a big girl and just get it over with.'_ Nancy convinced herself. She took a step and froze dead in her tracks. There was a popping sound, like someone snapping bubble wrap between their fingers.

"What the f...." she whispered. Nancy could feel the sweat under her arms and down her neck. Looking down she could see that the sharp point from the heel of her shoe had punctured a piece of paper causing the sound.

"Big brave Nancy" she mumbled and relaxed a bit.

Fred's door was closed. This was the fun part. Nancy grasped the doorknob and pushed it open. The office was in the same state as the common area she had just walked through. Papers, office supplies, trash, reference books, all lined the floor. Fred was sitting in his chair, upright, mouth open, head cocked back, eyes staring at the acoustic ceiling tiles, as though he had fallen asleep in his chair, but with his eyes open.

"F-fred..."

At the sound of Nancy's voice, his head snapped forward. Fred started to stand up.

"Fred. What the hell happened? You ok?"

When he did not answer, she took a step backwards. Pop.

"Fred!"

His hand dragged along the desk knocking more papers to the floor as he continued toward Nancy. She took another step back. Pop.

"I swear to god Fred if you don't..."

Right before he lunged at her, Nancy could see Fred's lips pull back and expose his yellowish teeth. Nancy flung the hot coffee into Fred's face. In slow motion, she watched him pass by her and slam into the wall next to where she was standing. She did not hear his expected screams of pain nor did he even bother to bring his hands to his face. He bounced off the wall and stood there, dim eyes moving side to side.

_'Get the fuck out of here!'_ her mind screamed and her legs listened. Nancy spun around and sprinted towards the hall. She could hear footsteps shuffling through the debris behind her. She ran back to her office and slammed the door shut. The whole wall shuddered from the impact of the door.

She dialed the police and an operator came on almost instantly. "Yes, help, please send help," she breathed into the phone. "What? No, I was attacked by Fred." _'Shit, what did Fred mean to an emergency operator? Get a hold of yourself!'_ She thought.

"Yes sir, he is still in the building. No, I am in my office with the door closed. Yes, you have it correct, the MAC building. I am on the first floor. No, I am all alone. No, all the doors to the outside are locked until seven thirty. The main entrance? You would need a key card, or someone to let you in. I don't give a fuck I'm not leaving my office, tell them break one down. Yes, I understand but I'm telling you I'm not leaving."

Her whole body was sweating now; her heart was busy pumping blood to her vital survival organs, her head, arms and legs. With the phone still to her ear, she reached across desk and snatched a Kleenex from the box.

Every muscle in her body froze. She could see Fred's bloated pale face pressed against the pane of glass adjacent to her door. This design was standard for all MAC executives. It allowed them to have their door closed for privacy but still see into the common areas.

Fred's eyes were completely swollen shut and yet his head still followed her every movement.

"Holy fucking shit! He is here! He is right here!" She yelled at the operator.

The doorknob turned but stopped short of releasing the lock holding it. The door started to rattle in its frame.

"Screw you; I'm not going to die talking to some asshole!" Nancy said as she slammed the phone down. The operator had all of her information and she wasn't going to take a chance that the police would arrive in time, or if they even could get into the building without someone letting them. She needed to find someone to let them in or better yet, bash the shit out of Fred.

She sat down behind her computer and brought up the company phone list while Fred continued to work at opening the door. Fuck. She never got in this early and had no idea who might be here. The phone list was alphabetical by department. Nancy skipped accounting and dialed the Budgeting departments main line - no answer. Contracts - no answer. Human Resources - no answer.

She didn't know how long to let the phone ring before giving up. This was not working. She had to do something else. Wait. She turned from her computer and looked out the window scanning the parking lot for familiar cars. Near the front entrance, she saw a black Honda Accord, its lights flashed twice and the alarmed beeped letting the owner know that all was safe and secure. The owner then put the keys into his pocket and proceeded towards the front door.

Outside of her office, one of Fred's hands twisted the doorknob enough to release the catch, the door swung open under his next flailing blow.

Nancy slammed her hands on her office window to try to get the Honda owner's attention but he continued down the sidewalk not noticing. Quickly she released the lock on the window, it would only tilt out half way but it was enough for her to fit her head through.

"Help! You've got to help me!" She screamed out the opening.

This got Bob's attention.

"What's wrong? Where are you?" Bob yelled back.

"Hurry! H..."

Nancy disappeared from view as she was pulled back into the building, screaming as Fred dragged her inside.

Chapter 8

Amelia's day had started as any other; she headed in to the office early, to beat the seven A.M. rush, stopping along the way to get her and Mr. Fitz Kirkpatrick, her boss, their favorite brews at a coffee shop. She was always reimbursed for the coffee and Fitz, let her charge her entire trip into the company at thirty-six cents a mile, plus the cost of the coffee to his expense account, a win-win for everyone. She liked Fitz, he knew she had gotten the job on both her ability to make order out of chaos and her trim, fit body that indicated Fitz was a player in the MAC company politics. He even took her on two company trips, she had been half expecting a pass or maybe a demand for a sexual favor, one she may or may not have declined, and she was a free agent after all. Although Fitz was as old as her father was, the man oozed charisma and charm. He never even made a play for her and after the first trip, she decided she did indeed loved him exactly how he was and their relationship grew closer in a father-daughter kind of way. He even reprimanded that guy Steve in front of everyone at the company holiday party, Amelia would never forget it, "Steve, back off, everyone is trying to have fun here." With extra sarcasm on the _'Everyone'_ , thinking of it still made Amelia smile.

The second trip with Fitz, his wife had come along and she was a trophy in her own right, but that is not all she was. In her, Amelia discovered the woman behind the man in power, if anything she played politics more viciously than Fitz ever did and when she saw Amelia it took her about twenty seconds to decide to bring Amelia 'into the fold'. The minor benefits soon followed and started added up, Amelia knew the connections that woman had and it never ceased to amaze her. She was only attending college in the evenings because of Mrs. Kirkpatrick.

Arriving at work Amelia dropped her purse into her desk drawer and headed into Fitz's office after knocking softly once, their pre-arranged signal. She backed into his office using her behind to push the door open, as both hands were full of coffee then turned to put Fitz's coffee on his desk, as she sat it down she froze. Kirkpatrick had blood on his arm; add to that he was sitting on his desk at an unnatural angle. His dull eyes tracked her movement and seemed to focus on her in a strange way that made Amelia recoil in fear.

"Fitz...Fitz what happened, what is wrong. Oh, my God I am calling an ambulance. Don't die, don't die!" Kirkpatrick slowly stood in his chair, the chair he had finally succumbed to un-death's harsh embrace only twenty minutes before and started to climb over the desk towards Amelia, a groan escaping his throat.

Amelia backpedaled bumping into the door from his office and stammering, "Fitz...stay, st-st-stay right th-there, I ww-will call an ambulance and g-get you h-help." Her voice shrunk to a whimper, "No Fitz, stop. Stop..."

Amelia turned and fled the office closing the door behind her. She then raced behind her desk and stood watching the door, somehow knowing Fitz would be trapped inside his office, knowing he could not open the door handle anymore, not in his condition. She squeaked out a cry worthy of a mouse when the handle slowly started to turn. Then ducked and hid under her desk, pulling her chair in as far as it would go after her. Thankfully, her desk front went all the way down to the floor something she really liked as she could kick off her shoes when she was working during the day. Thinking of which brought to the fore front of her mind the fact that she was sitting uncomfortably on a spare pair under the desk, she maneuvered slightly to get them out from under her then froze when she heard the door swing open from Fitz's office. She heard her former boss step-shuffle-step away from her, heading towards the hall and elevator and thought she was in the clear when the phone on her desk started ringing. Between rings she held her breath and listened for footsteps, they appeared to be heading back her way; mercifully, the phone stopped ringing, _'Praise the lord and voice mail too.'_ She thought hysterically to herself, as she tried not to breath. The footsteps stopped a few feet from her desk. She heard the low grunts that Fitz had been making come from above her desktop, she heard the papers and her 'in' box being shoved around then some paper and pens fell off the back of her desk, making her flinch, then the steps started to move away again. Amelia sighed quietly and relaxed, then jumped again as her hand was burned by the hot coffee cup she had somehow retained for her entire flight from Fitz's office. Shrugging she took a sip. _'Fucking good.'_ She thought _, 'This is the taste of life!'_ In that moment, she felt more alive than she had in a long time.

As she was reveling in her victory her phone started to ring again, and ring, and ring, and ring, it did not cut off after four rings as it should have, but continued to ring, she did not hear any grunts or footsteps returning to her desk and in a brief, maniac moment, Amelia jumped up and grabbed her phone. She saw Fitz as she rose; he was only ten feet away and between her and the elevator, worse he was coming right towards her. This phone call had better have been worth it, hopefully it was the police, the army, or building security.

"Hello? Is anybody there, Kirkpatrick's gone crazy he...he's noticed me! Help me! Send help! Oh God! Stay away from me!" It took her a second to realize she was speaking to a dial tone.

Chapter 9

Nancy remembered the terrible panic she felt when Fred's teeth punctured the skin above her right ankle. At first, she had felt no pain. Much like when you touch a hot stove, your body automatically jerks your hand away to prevent further damage. Nancy tried to pull her leg free from his grasp but Fred had a firm hold on her. He worked his jaw up and down tearing flesh with each bite.

It didn't take long for the pain to become very real. She could feel Fred's teeth scraping against her shinbone like a hungry dog chewing on a treat. He had pulled her from the window and they were both lying on the floor, Nancy, face down on her stomach. Fred resembled a child at a picnic eating a piece of corn on the cob. He too was face down with his elbows braced against the floor, hands securely holding her. When Nancy felt her Achilles tendon snap and roll up into a ball inside what was left of her calf muscle her vision went pink and then black. She willingly let her body go into shock and passed out.

Fred had not been dead long and the energy he absorbed from Nancy crashed upon his body like a strong ocean wave. It was as if he had been awakened from a deep sleep. He was still almost completely blind from Nancy's coffee and yet, he could see colors, energy. Fred did not need his eyes to see this energy as much as he could feel it. It radiated like thermal heat patterns he had seen on the nightly weather forecasts. Fred looked down, he was holding something, as he stared it went from a bright red color to, orange, yellow, green, and then a deep blue. His black fingers contrasted against the color of the thing he held as if he seized a fluorescent light bulb. His whole body radiated this black, ghostly energy.

Even though Fred could already start to feel his new energy fading, he had fed on enough to make himself feel better, much better. It was like the best rush he had ever experienced. He got to his feet. He had to find more. He scanned the room. The computer had a green tinge, outside Nancy's office the coffee pot was a burning red, and rest of the room was cool blackish violet color.

Fred was drawn to the hot red of the coffee pot and he eagerly started moving towards it. He was close to his destination when he was forced to a sudden stop. Fred looked down to see what was blocking his path. In his hands, he still clutched Nancy's leg. It had gone from blue to the same blackish violet color that radiated throughout the room. Unknowingly he had been dragging her body. She had flipped over onto her back and upper body had become wedged between her office door and its frame. He watched as the remaining color from her body vanished, she was now as black as he was.

Fred forced his hands to release their grip and continued towards the red energy. The coffee blistered his throat but he felt no pain nor did he receive the same rush as he had experienced from Nancy. Confused he dropped the coffee pot to the ground.

Fred thought about waiting for Peggy to arrive, he desired her as much as ever but in a much different way. Somewhere in his malfunctioning mind, he knew that the woman was supposed to be here. Peggy would have the same energy as Nancy. In the end, Fred couldn't wait that long, he needed to feed. There was nothing left in the Marketing Department that attracted Fred's attention so he decided to see what the rest of the building had to offer. He stepped into the hallway looking for that delicious red energy.

Chapter 10

Max took the lead heading up to the second floor, with Officer Stewart behind him and Steve bringing up the rear. It came as a surprise that Steve did not make any remarks about Stewart's ass, which probably saved his life. As they approached, the second floor landing high above them in the stairwell the fourth floor door swung open. They could all hear a shuffling sound on the top landing, but could not quite see anything. Max switched to, a slower, quieter pace and listened intently as he approached the door leading to the second floor. The shuffling sound continued above them.

"Should we yell out?"

"Fuck that, no way," said Steve.

"We don't know that they are zombified yet, they might be human."

"We can't leave them in our exit, either Steve." whispered Officer Stewart, "What if we have to make a hasty retreat; we don't want to be dealing with this guy in the stairway."

"Look, he or she or it will hear us on the PA, I'll watch the stairwell from Kirkpatrick's office and if no one comes out the door we know we have zombie issues here, right? Why find trouble?"

Max found both arguments reasonable; however, he was in favor of just yelling up the stairwell to see if he got a response.

"Wait, what if I snuck up the stairs for a peak? I could motion to whomever it is to get them to join us if they are still human?"

"Hmmm... It should be me, I have the gun." stated Stewart.

"No-no, I should go, I have a bat, and it would be easy enough to whack someone if they are shambling along, right? Almost no danger at all."

"Yeah like the bathroom?"

"Hey! I didn't know what I was up against then! Plus I had dropped my bat!"

"Fine, fine if you think you can handle it go ahead and go..."

"Hello!?" a man's voice called from the top floor landing, "Is someone down there?"

"Oh sure, see! You let it know we are here!" whispered Steve angrily.

"What are talking about, the guy is alive, and he is calling for us. Why are we still whispering?"

They all heard someone coming down the stairs, "I can see you there. Why won't you answer me?"

Sure enough the trio saw a face peering down at them through the railings, the face stopped coming down the stairs, waiting for an answer.

"Sure we are here," said Stewart, "Who are you? I am Officer Stewart, with the Denver P.D.."

"A police officer! Friggin-a! You gotta come up here, old man Sawyer went insane and killed Rhonda Pulcher and attacked me! I locked him in the break room; he does not seem to be thinking too well and can't get out. Come on!"

"No, you come here, where we can see you. Sawyer will have to wait we are trying to get to somewhere else. We have to do one thing at a time right now that is it, come on down here. What is your name?"

The figure coming down the stairs was a young male, maybe twenty-two; he had brown hair and a straight, lanky build. He had an I.D. card and name badge, but it was still too far away to be read. He came forward slowly, but steadily and seemed to be favoring one arm. His pant leg on one side was coated with blood.

"I'm Tom. Tom Eby. I work in ITC, networking. Who are these guys?"

"I am Max, this is Steve, we work for George Gains down in Licensing, and I think you reset my password for me about two months ago when I locked myself out, you work night's right? What happened to your arm and leg?"

"Gains, yeah, I keep the batch processes going and help out any of the early birds who have problems in the morning. Sawyer friggin' grabbed my leg and tried to bite me. Bite me! Couldn't believe what I saw, I saw him munching down on Rhonda in the break room, I went to go back out and slipped on all the blood, none of it is mine, but it made a mess. Anyway, I punched Sawyer in the face, musta broke his nose, cause he backed right off and let me go. I crawled out the door and slammed it behind me. You know that file cabinet by the break room? No? Yeah you probably don't get up to the fourth floor too much. Anyway, Joe and Frank blocked me in the break room one night as a joke by moving that cabinet in front of the door. I just heaved it over, I got it about halfway over the door and Sawyer couldn't get out. I think I sprained my shoulder."

"You were alone in ITC? Where were Joe and, uh, Frank?" asked Max, struggling to remember the people who operated the help desk during the day.

"They called in sick last night, leaving me and Sawyer to hold down the fort, it was kinda busy too, with only two of us. Anyway, Sawyer took off about six for a break and never came back, no big deal the last batch jobs ended around five-thirty so we were in the dead phase of the shift until the early people got in, even then it is pretty slow this time of day. I was supposed to be off by now and I wanted to go home, but no one came in, no one called in either. I hated leaving the TC, uh, Tech Center, empty, but I had to go, I am, or was, tired. That is when I found Sawyer and Rhonda. I went back to the TC and could not get a line out, all busy. I texted one of my local buddies and told her to call the cops for me, cause I could not get through to them by voice, she said she did." To Stewart he said, "I thought you were them. I guess it really doesn't matter, you're here now."

Max quickly went through what the rest of them had been through and explained that they were trying to get to Kirkpatrick's office. Tom had no weapons with him. After a brief debate, they decided to continue to Kirkpatrick's office and see if they could figure out how to operate the PA system.

Chapter 11

Like Fred, Nancy had the same ability to "see" energy. All of the undead did. It was not like some sort of x-ray vision, nor was it purely thermal vision. Like the living, the newly un-dead could not see though walls or other obstacles. Nancy could still use her normal vision since her eyes had yet to decompose. She found that she could switch from normal vision to her new ability as easy as, well, a blink of the eye.

The entire world around her generated some sort of energy from the hot glowing red to the cool uninteresting black. There were several ghost-like black figures in the MAC Co. parking lot. That's what the dead looked like, shadowy black figures containing no energy what so ever. The dead were the only things that were completely black, even stone and other inanimate objects generated some sort of dull energy. The living - now, they were a different story altogether. Their energy patterns were a striking rainbow colored non-pattern that simply looked edible and beckoned to be savored, slowly. _'Taste the rainbow'_ Nancy thought _, 'Ironic.'_

Bob's energy wasn't enough; it had been like a drug and she wanted more. Nancy forced her stiff muscles into action and she started walking. She moved as though it was the day after she had just completed a marathon. She felt no pain but the muscles throughout her entire body were so stiff and tight that she was forced to hobble along like an old woman. When Nancy reached DTC Boulevard, she stopped and hid behind a dumpster so that she could survey the area. The air was full of sounds, ambulance sirens, distant gunshots, explosions, screams. Nancy could see a handful of black shapes staggering in the streets. The dead were greatly outnumbered by the living. However the chaos was starting, Nancy could see it. Those who fled the buildings first tried to escape using their cars. One accident led to another and as the streets became clogged, they had no option but to abandon their vehicles and try their luck on foot. This made it easier for a zombie to find a meal.

When she looked up into the windows of the tall office buildings that surrounded her Nancy could see bright patches of energy standing there, watching the spectacle unfold below them.

Nancy joined them and watched the action for several hours until her burning hunger finally forced her out of hiding. By this time, the number of dead walking the streets had significantly increased and she decided it was time for her to join them.

Everywhere she looked abandoned cars littered the street. She switched over to her special vision. Two blocks away she could see several black figures surrounding two cars that had crashed head on. As the black figures moved around the cars, Nancy could see flashes of bright red and orange energy trapped in one of the cars.

"Yummy," she whispered.

On her way to the fresh meal, Nancy caught her reflection in the back window of a sports utility vehicle. She paused, taking in the sight. Her brown hair was still neatly pulled back into a ponytail and her face looked pale but not too unnatural. She had a few blue veins below her eyes but nothing too extreme. Surprisingly, the only aspect of her face that sickened her was how Bob's blood around her mouth and nose contrasted against her pale skin. Nancy knew what she had done to Bob and yet the sight of his blood on her face caused her to feel nauseous. Perhaps, there was still something left living inside of her, some small bit of humanity.

Her hunger shook Nancy away from any philosophical thoughts she might have hand and took her back to reality. Hunger was stronger than guilt. Nancy looked past her reflection and inside the SUV; she saw a tire iron. She opened the back tailgate and grabbed the weapon. Using the back of her sleeve, she wiped as much of the drying blood from her face as she could. Nancy even released a few hairs from the ponytail and let them drape about her face the way she had done when she was one of the living.

With her focus returned, Nancy moved toward the two cars. There were three black figures slowly pawing at the windows of the Volkswagen Bug. The zombies, intent on the prize trapped inside, did not notice Nancy's approach. She strode up behind one of the figures and raised the heavy metal bar. With one quick downward motion, she collapsed the zombie's skull and it fell motionless to the pavement. The other two zombies noticed their fallen comrade and looked at Nancy. They saw her blackness, confused they returned their attention to the person in vehicle. Nancy easily disposed of the other two figures the same way she had the first. Their skulls crumpling under the blows from the tire iron.

"Thank you!" said a voice from inside the Volkswagen.

Nancy could see a young woman. She was wearing jeans and a black tank top. On the seat next to her was a pink purse the shape and size of a small bowling bag and the familiar green apron that employees of a local coffee shop wore. The girl had apparently been on her way to work when her world collapsed around her. Nancy wondered how long the girl had been trapped inside the car.

"Hurry, we've got to get out of here before more of those things show up." Nancy instructed the girl. Her own voice sounded sluggish and hoarse as spoke. Would the girl be suspicious?

For a moment the young woman studied Nancy, she didn't look like the things that had attack her and yet she didn't look completely normal either. Her instincts yelled at her not to trust Nancy.

Looking over the top of the bug Nancy told the girl, "Come on, I see some more coming, we've got to get out of here now!"

Nancy's words apparently convinced the girl because she opened the door.

"Thanks again, you saved my life." she said, starting to step out of the bug.

"Yeah, I suppose I did...so I guess it belongs to me now."

Nancy violently pushed the girl back into the vehicle and pinned her face down on the front seat. With her hands on the girl's back and oblivious to the girls screams for mercy, Nancy paused for a second wondering if she would feel the same guilt for what she was about to do to as she had for Bob. Her hunger was stronger than any guilt she would ever have and she sunk her teeth into young woman's neck and began feeding on her beautiful flesh. As she ate, Nancy felt her body fill with energy.

When she had taken all that she could eat Nancy fell backwards out of the car and onto the road next to it. She lay there letting the girl's energy rip through her body like the most incredible orgasm she had ever felt.

Nancy had taken the black and white photos that decorated her loft. She had been an amateur photographer. She remembered now. It was a loft too, not an apartment or house. Nancy thought it was located in downtown Denver not too far from the Coors Field baseball stadium but she couldn't be sure.

From her vantage point, Nancy could see a few of the living still standing at the office windows surrounding the intersection. Nancy laughed and imagined that they had watched the whole event unfold like some sick reality television show. How long had they watched the trapped girl only to see Nancy devour her? Were they taking bets and exchanging money right now? The ones who bet she would be rescued paying off those who took the odds that she would die?

Nancy ran her hands up and down her body. It felt good. Her muscles still felt lethargic but they were getting firmer and stronger. Her thoughts were almost normal now, the molasses she had been thinking through before was almost gone. After a few moments of enjoying her new good feelings, Nancy's enjoyment was interrupted. Standing above her was a black figure, the coffee girl she had just consumed.

Nancy studied the girl for a while. The once bright red and orange energy that flowed through the girl was now completely gone. Nancy did not know how but she felt a connection with the young woman.

"Help me up." she instructed the girl and stretched out her arm. The young woman did as she was told and pulled Nancy to her feet.

"What is your name?" she asked the girl. The young woman just stood there blankly staring back at her.

"Can't speak, eh, coffee girl? It's just as well." Somehow understanding, the coffee girl slowly nodded exposing the terrible wound Nancy had inflicted.

"Come with me, we've got to do something about that."

Chapter 12

Steve pushed the door open and stepped down the hallway towards Kirkpatrick's office, with Max, Stewart and Tom trailing him closely. Once everyone was in the hallway Steve stopped and pointed to the floor down near the end of the hall, there was blood on it.

"Stewart, it looks like you get to earn your pay now, ma'am."

Officer Stewart scowled at Steve and stepped in front of him; while her back was turned, a high-pitched scream came from behind her. To her credit, Stewart just turned, dropped into a lower profile and ducked to the right. Max did just the opposite. He jumped six inches into the air, pivoted to the left and almost dropped his trusty bat. It was all he could do not to become a babbling idiot. Steve, started in on the "Wha-wha-what," but quickly recovered and scowled at Max.

Stewart immediately started a smooth glide towards the screaming, almost jogging, but checking every opening she went by with the coolness of a professional. Max followed as close as he could, but lacked her precision, he only hoped she found and took care of any 'problems' before he got there.

_'So much for my macho image,_ ' he thought to himself, _'Long live the woman's rights movement!'_

The screaming started getting louder and more persistent, Stewart's pace increased to a quick jog. Max was the one who saw the woman dart out of a side passage on an intercept course. Without even thinking, Max rushed the older blonde haired woman getting ready to pounce on Stewart from behind. He let out a battle cry and threw himself forward swinging the bat as he went. He missed, completely woofed. STE-rike one! However, his momentum carried him into the woman and as he tripped and went down, he landed on the back of her legs, which brought her down on top of Stewart's legs.

Time seemed to slow way down for Max then, he dimly recalled hearing a gun go off, and heard Tom and Steve yelling, as if they were three feet under water. His vision was dominated by a half torn face of a woman who could have been his mother, her grimacing visage turned towards him as they fell together to the carpet. For one brief second in time everything seemed frozen, just stopped. Then, as if someone turned on a light switch, everything started again. Reality seemed to speed up to double that of normal, as if it was in a hurry to make up for the pause. Max, Stewart and the zombie woman went down in a heap. Max caught the butt end of the bat in his groin and was certain his entire body balanced upon that point for a good part of eternity, before he teetered over. Stewart managed to pull her legs out and to one side before Max landed hard on top of the zombie woman.

_'Funny'_ Max thought _, 'Normally I would be moaning on the ground clutching at my racked balls crying like a baby, but here I am still in the fight despite the pain,_ ' which was immediately followed by, _'Stop thinking and kill this bitch!'_

It was par for the course that he lost hold of the bat in his fall, but his arms and legs still seemed to work okay _, 'The head, the head, gotta control this bitch's head! With the bitey parts!'_ he thought. He would be damned if he would have his wife hear of how he was eaten by some zombie grandma. Max pinned the zombie down and started screaming incoherently, not sure, of how to hold her down and hold her head in place at the same time.

"Duck!" He heard, and then WHAM! He was hit right on the shoulder.

"Steve! You asshole! Stop hitting me!" Max screamed.

"Get off the bitch you stupid shit! Move your fucking ass off her! Duck! Duck!"

Max rolled off the zombie barely in time and Steve's driver hit the woman's wrist. It broke with a loud thunderous crunching sound. This freed up his hand and Max moved it to try to control the woman's head. This was a mistake, as he soon learned; the woman started punching him in the chest with her broken wrist and it hurt. She was forcing him underneath her and Max heard Steve yelling, "Yeah, yeah line her up for me buddy!", so he continued the roll and let the woman on top of him. Two gun shots went off, but the zombie on Max was not hit, a second later, Steve's club drove in the side of the zombie's head, sticking there, like a nail in a piece of wood. The zombie twitched once, then twice, and then started moving again.

Steve yelled, "Die bitch, Die! Fucking die! Die! Die!" and pulled his club back. The zombie stuck as it was on the end of his club went with his pull and this freed Max to get to his hands and knees and look around for his bat. By the time, he recovered his feet, bat in hand, Steve and Tom had battered the old woman zombie into the next life, again. Max looked for Stewart and did not see her anywhere, he moved down the hallway into Kirkpatrick's office area and spotted Stewart behind the secretary's desk, ass end out, she was talking to someone under the desk. Kirkpatrick lay nearby; he had taken a gunshot to the head.

"C'mon, lady, it's okay now, I put him down, we are all normal out here. It will be alright, come out of there."

Slowly Stewart and the young secretary came out from under the desk and stood up, Stewart did not stop moving until they stood next to the office door with the desk between them and the body, motioning for Max to stand in between them and the corpse's feet. Max moved over as Steve and Tom came down the hallway.

"Shit, you didn't have to leave us there! What the hell was that all about? Team work people, no 'I' and all that?" said Steve.

"You had it under control, three on one? Three men in the prime of their lives versus one old lady? I think she," Stewart motioned with her eyes towards the secretary, "needed more help to deal with her problem. What's your name Miss?"

"Amelia, my name is Amelia, Officer. Thank you, thank you! I don't know what happened to him, he was so nice before, he never did anything like that. I mean he was hurt and had blood on his arm, I don't know what he was doing!"

"He was a zombie Amelia, old man Kirkpatrick joined the living dead and was gonna get himself a bite of his secretary for breakfast."

"Steve!" said Max and Stewart together, but only Max continued, "That ain't helping!"

Stewart asked if anyone was in Kirkpatrick's office, Amelia nodded her head no and they all went inside. One of the benefits of having an executive's office was a lock on the door; Max twisted it as soon as Tom had made his way in. Stewart sat Amelia in one of the guest chairs, went over, and got a cup of water for her from the sink.

"Drink this, take a breath and try not to think too hard, we have to explain what is going on and it is a lot to swallow."

Amelia nodded and Stewart began with the start of her day leading up to how she had ended up at MAC Co. rescuing Max. She went on to summarize what she thought was going on, people were turning into zombies, like in a B horror flick and were trying to eat anyone alive that they caught, which brought them to Kirkpatrick's office.

"We want you to use the PA on the phones to call everyone here, so maybe we can rescue more people, and then come up with a plan on what we want to do."

Amelia let out a bitter laugh, "Use the PA? That is why you came up here? You could have used it from any phone in the building."

Max and Steve looked a bit sheepish and shrugging his good shoulder Tom said, "We don't know how. Who would any of us ever page?"

Amelia looked at him for a second, then nodded and went over to the office phone and picked it up. "What do you want me to say?"

"How about: 'If you are still alive come to Kirkpatrick's office.'" suggested Max.

"Good enough." Amelia pressed a couple buttons on the phone and said, "Attention all MAC Co. personnel, this is a state of emergency, we are all gathering at Kirkpatrick's office. Please stop whatever you are doing and come to Kirkpatrick's office on the second floor immediately. His extension is forty three - forty two if you need to call. Repeat: gather at Kirkpatrick's office right now on the second floor. A-One." Amelia hung up the phone.

"A-One? What was that for? Steak?" asked Steve, edging out Max by maybe half a second.

"It is the security code for an emergency. You didn't know? Didn't you go to training? The codes are there to let everyone know if it is an emergency or not. You really don't remember hearing them? Oh, by the way, I wouldn't sit in that chair, that's where Kirkpatrick was when I found him."

Steve jumped out of the chair as if it were on fire and then tried to regain his composure by saying, "So now what? Sit and wait? Should one of us go make coffee?"

Stewart looked him in the eye and said, "Why thanks Steve, what a good idea! Why don't you bring the whole pot in when it is done? Move the old man's body into another office while you are at it too, would you?"

"Say, I wasn't of... Sure, sure thing. Any helpers? Max?"

"Fine, no problem, we are keeping this door open though, okay?"

While Max and Steve made coffee, people started to trickle to Kirkpatrick's office and the surrounding area. They made more coffee while they listened to the survivor's stories and gathered intelligence on where the last zombies were seen, putting them up on Kirkpatrick's white board. After thirty minutes the office was downright crowded with seventeen people, there were various ages and both genders were represented. Steve had started to classify them as they came in, some were hiders, some were defenders, somewhere offenders. Steve had worked out these categories as he started hearing similarities in the stories; all of the people had one thing in common: they were survivors. When Max pointed this out, Steve said, "Duh, Sherlock. What next great obvious fact will you point out? I think we fall into the 'defender' category, we did not hide out, did not go looking for zombies to kill, we just dealt with the hand God tossed us, eh?"

"Uh, why is it important?"

"I dunno, just an observation of my own, I always liked to think I would not cower and hide if the shit ever hit the fan, you know Max? Turns out, I did okay when push came to shove. I mean I killed a lady to save your ass. I killed her dead man. You owe me."

"You killed a zombie, not a lady; let's not start making them human. Yeah you did okay Steve, better than I did. I am not sure why I sucked so bad at bashing her head in. In fact I am like, zero for three man, backed out on Nancy, got saved in the men's room and you had to drag that last one off of me. Fuck." Guilt once again washed over him as he thought about how easily he had been convinced to stay and not try for his wife and kids. Maybe he was a hider.

"Ah, maybe you are a 'hider' at heart, just trying to follow my example so you don't lose face?" Steve said, casually.

"Jah, fuck you too, loser. I did not exactly run away when I saw the old bitch jumping for Stewart, did I? So you can take your 'hider' classifi..."

"Sorry to intrude," Officer Stewart interrupted, who didn't sound sorry at all, "You mentioned my name girls? Bring that fresh pot of coffee along and come into the office. I don't think any more people are going to come up here now."

With a little grumbling, Max and Steve followed Stewart into the office. Stewart glanced at Kirkpatrick's chair and then opted to sit on his desk, facing the small crowd. She asked if anyone could think of a plan of action, a dozen voices spoke up, most involving stuff like, "I need to go and get my wife or husband or kids, then we can go...somewhere."

"Hold on, hold on there, we first have to decide if that is at all feasible? Are we going to work as a team? Go around to each person's house, school, or other job site and find everyone we care about? Who doesn't have family or friends to go check on? Anyone?"

Only Tom raised his hand, "Uh, I just have roommates, my folks live in North Platte."

Steve mumbled softly, "No shit?"

Max elbowed him to keep quiet, and then said, "Why didn't you raise your hand? You're divorced, eh?"

Steve glared at Max, "So, divorce means my parents live in North Platte too? C'mon I got a sister, nieces and a nephew in town too."

"Okay, okay, just I never hear you talk about 'em and the only pictures you have on your desk are of your current lay and sports heroes. Lighten up Steve."

"Listen up ladies, and gentlemen." Here Stewart looked at Max and Steve, "If we can be quiet for a minute and toss out ideas one at a time it might be more productive. Max?"

"Uh, sorry, I think we need to make a break for the cars, head out and go our separate ways to check on our families. I think we should have a place to meet once we do that so we can get together, and we should tell anyone else where we are meeting, so we can all get together for, um mutual defense?"

"I think we should sit tight and wait for the army to come settle this problem," said a middle-aged woman in a snappy business suit whom Max could not quite name.

"Hider." whispered Steve quietly to Max.

"Okay, any other ideas? C'mon people! We have only two plans of action: Go or stay and wait for the cavalry? There has to be another way."

Other than Max and the 'hider', no one else seemed inclined to throw out any suggestions, when it became painfully obvious that no one else would put forth any ideas, Stewart said, "Well, okay, how about we wait for a few hours and if the guard does not show up we break for the cars?"

"What? Our families might need us now and every hour we sit in here there are more of them out there, we should strike out hard and fast and get the heck out of here." Max said.

"Max, we are all worried about our families, call them, tell them to sit tight and wait for the military to move in. I know it does not sound like a good course of action, but for every civilian on the street it is one more car they have to move off the road to get through and, potentially, one more zombie they have to kill to mop up the problem."

"Well, we could have it both ways, who wants to leave now and who wants to stay? I mean there is nothing saying we all have to do one plan or the other, or the hybrid you threw out, is there?"

"No, there is an expression 'Strength in Numbers' though, right now they have the numbers and the strength, right? Why not wait for a bit and see if our boys in the military can reverse that?"

"What about 'divide and conquer'?" asked Max.

"Ah, Max, not to be picking a nit, but that was divide your enemies and conquer them, not divide your allies and conquer your enemies," said Steve.

Max glared at Steve, then smiled briefly and said, "Look at us, debating old sayings when our coworkers are dead or undead and the world as we know it is crumbling around us. And they say Nero fiddled on the roof too, eh? Is that what we are doing?"

"Ah, Max, the fiddle wasn't invented until like the seventeenth century," said Stewart.

Max rolled his eyes and replied, "Sheesh people, is everyone a history buff? C'mon, aren't we supposed to be coming up with a plan of action here? Not debating Max's intelligence?"

"Well I am staying right here, waiting for the guard to come and put these rioters down. I have already spoken to my husband, his work is shut up tight, like ours, and he is perfectly safe. I think we should just divide into teams and the people who want to go can go, while the rest of us stay and hold down the fort," stated the older woman. "The people who stay could maybe distract the people outside by yelling out a door or something away from the parking lot and, if it does not work out, they can letting the 'go' party back into the building."

"See? I guess some managers actually are worth the money." said Steve, "I vote for her plan!" The older woman barely glanced at Steve, but the look spoke volumes about how Steve was really lucky that this was an emergency.

Stewart said, "I am still not sure this is a good idea, if they let the zombies know we are here we might have problems later on. Let's think about this for a few minutes before we do anything okay? Finish up the coffee first and then make plans."

Chapter 13

Nancy's plan was simple. Being one of the dead she deduced that they could freely move around the city fearing little from the other zombies. As long as Nancy fed regularly, she thought she would be able to pass for one of the living and that gave her an advantage.

The next meal came when Nancy spotted two men. The first man was short, fat, balding and probably in his late forties. He wore shorts, flip-flops and a bright Hawaiian shirt. He carried a long curved blade that looked like the type you usually found on a paper cutter in an office. The second man was the exact opposite. Nancy gauged him to be twenty-one or twenty-two; he stood over six feet tall and skinny, as if he were the center for some college basketball team.

Nancy instructed Coffee Girl to stay hidden behind an abandoned car. She then retraced her steps and fell against the cool glass of a large office building.

Nancy called to the two men, "Help me, someone please help me!"

Both of the men stopped dead in their tracks. She could see them talking but could not hear what they were discussing. The fat man shook his head as the younger one pleaded his case. Eventually, the young man ended the conversation by extending his middle finger at the fat man, the universal sign of "fuck you". The fat man just shook his head in disgust.

Cautiously the young man approached Nancy, the whole time watching her every move. His attention was so focused on her that he passed by the crouching Coffee Girl without noticing her.

"Oh, thank you. I have money and will pay you to help me, please. My husband and I are rich." Nancy called to the young man.

"See, I told you. She can talk. If she was like one of them she wouldn't be able to." He called in an 'I-told-you-so' voice over his shoulder to the short, fat man who was still keeping his distance.

Convinced that Nancy was not a zombie the young man now briskly covered the remaining distance to her. When he got within a few feet, Nancy dramatically fell into his arms. Surprised by her move the young man was unable to support her weight and gently lowered her to the sidewalk.

"Come on Paul, come help me. She is freezing cold find a blanket or something. I think she is in shock."

_'So, fat ass had a name.'_ Nancy thought. She could barely hold herself back, the young man's beautiful red and orange energy was practically surrounding her. Nancy thought she could almost taste his warmth and she wanted it so badly.

"Sure Jim, I'll just crap a blanket, what color do you think she wants? I hope she likes brown." Paul replied sarcastically, and then nervously started switching his long blade from one hand to the other.

"Are you hurt?" Jim asked, ignoring Paul.

"My ankle, I twisted it running from one of those things." Nancy answered feebly pointing to where Fred had happily chewed away flesh and bone.

"I don't see any swelling, just some minor bruises. Do you think you can walk on it?" Jim asked.

"Yes, I think I can stumble along if I put my arms over your shoulders or his." she replied pointing to Paul.

"All right, all right, let's get her up and get the hell out of here before any of those things see us." Paul reluctantly gave in and started walking towards the couple.

Nancy waited until Paul had moved passed Coffee Girl before she screamed, "Kill him!" and then grabbed Jim's head, pulled his face toward hers at began taking large bites out of his mouth and cheek. Jim screamed and tried to fight her off, as best as he could but Nancy grew stronger with each bite. She pulled him over her body and rolled him onto his back. He was still wildly punching and kicking at her but she was able to retain her grasp and moved into a sitting position on his chest.

"Don't fight it will only make it hurt worse." Nancy told him. To accentuate her point she took a large bite from one of his flailing arms. As she moved forward to continue her feast, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye and her left arm went weak. She turned her head to see a blade; the one that he had confiscated from a paper cutter had slashed through her collarbone and was now stuck just above her left breast. Nancy quickly turned to see Paul standing behind her. Her sudden movement, plus the lack of effect that his blow had upon her caused Paul to lose his grip on the blade.

Nancy clawed at Paul's bare legs and he jumped back against the wall of the building that Nancy had used as a prop. Paul took one last look at Jim. Deciding that he did not want to share the same fate, Paul took off running back the same way he and Jim had come as fast as his flip flops would allow.

Nancy hissed and clawed as he started to run but with only one good arm, she was unable grab a hold of her prey. With the blade still firmly sticking through her, Nancy crawled back onto Jim. The distraction Paul had caused allowed a significant amount of Jim's precious energy to spill out of him, wasted. This made Nancy angry and with the frenzy of a wild dog she dug into Jim's chest breaking ribs and feeding on his energy.

After sating her immediate needs, Nancy managed to stumble over to the car where Coffee Girl was still crouching. She grabbed Coffee Girl by her thick black hair and asked, "What about 'kill him', do you not understand?" With each word that she spoke, she bashed Coffee Girl's head into the car's thick metal bumper breaking her nose and splitting her cheek under her right eye.

Nancy forced herself to not completely destroy the girl; she might still be of use to her after all. Paul's attack made Nancy realize that she needed a smarter assistant. Assistant. Yes, that is what she would become, Nancy's right hand woman just like Peggy had been. _'That fat ass could have killed me.'_ she thought _. 'Killed me?'_ The irony of those words made her laugh.

"There", she pointed to Jim, "take what is left." Nancy pushed the Coffee Girl towards his cooling body.

The young woman apparently understood her instructions this time. When she was finished, the girl turned towards Nancy, blood and gore dripping from her face. As Nancy predicted she could see that the girl's wounds had started to heal, her nose, cheek and the opening Nancy had torn into her neck.

"Ve-Ronica." Coffee Girl stumbled to say pointing a bloody finger at herself.

"Alright then, Ve-Ronica come here, and pull this fucking thing out of me and we'll call it even." Veronica obliged and with one quick tug, she yanked Paul's blade free from Nancy's body.

Jim was slowly getting to his feet. "Nice of you to join us," Nancy told him. "Now where do you think that little fat fuck is hiding?"

Jim just gave his mistress the all too familiar blank zombie stare. Veronica, eager to please her master used the blade she had just pulled from Nancy to point out the direction that Paul had run.

"No shit, V? He went that a way? Good girl" Nancy said to her as though she were speaking to a small child or dog.

"Just remember, he stabbed me, he's mine, and I owe him one." They then began to follow the path of Paul's retreat. Veronica struggled to keep up with the pace that Nancy was setting and Jim just completely fell behind.

After traveling four blocks, Nancy began to hear screams. She increased her pace. The screams were getting softer but Nancy couldn't help but think that she was getting closer to the source. After another block, they found Paul. It looked as though he had turned the corner and ran straight into a large male zombie who was now busily feeding on the upper part of his right leg. Paul was still alive, his head was lolling back and forth on the sidewalk but his screams had died down to a whimper.

"Get off him, he's mine." Nancy told the male zombie straddling Paul. The zombie paused for a moment to glance up at her and Veronica, blood dripping from his face. He then gave them a look that all but said, 'Fuck off.' and returned to gnawing on Paul's leg.

"Mother fucker! V, Give me that." Nancy said and took the blade from Veronica's hand. She raised it over her head with both hands, and then brought it straight down into the zombie's head breaking through skull and brains. He fell lifeless to one side.

Nancy then knelt over Paul and stroked his forehead. He was still clinging to consciousness but he wasn't going to last long. As Nancy moved her mouth close to Paul's face, she could see his eyes go wild with panic. He struggled to say something but was unable. She put her mouth next to his ear and whispered, "I'm going to make sure that his hurts really bad, you fat fuck. I owe you that much." Nancy placed her tongue in his ear and then dragged it over his cheek to where she was once again staring eye to eye with him. Nancy licked his face and took a little bite off his nose and a nibbled off one of his eyebrows. She would pause and whisper into his ear and then watch the terror in his eyes. The torture delighted her so much that she decided to prolong her fun and not drain his remaining energy.

When he finally died, she wiped her mouth, again with the back of her increasingly disgusting sleeve and rejoined Veronica. While she waited Nancy looked over to the zombie she had destroyed. He had heard her instructions but did not obey them. Did he understand her or did he simply choose not to follow her commands? She remembered the defiant look on his face and decided that he understood her, yes, and he chose to ignore her. She had not had the same control over him as she did over Veronica and Jim.

Nancy's thoughts were interrupted when Paul's body started to twitch. It didn't take long before Paul was standing. He started to shuffle away from the three of them. "Stop!" Nancy commanded him. He continued onward ignoring her instructions. She then moved in front of him and again told him to stop. As before, Paul continued on some unknown path and went around Nancy.

As she contemplated Paul's failure to follow her instructions, she walked back to where Veronica and Jim were waiting. She leaned on Veronica's shoulder, "Well now V as the saying goes, 'if you're not with us, you're against us'. Each person he eats is one less for us, right? How about you give him back his blade?"

Nancy attempted to put as much mental emphasis in her words as she could to see what would happen. Veronica was bound to Nancy and seemed compelled to follow her orders. Nancy and Jim watched as she repeatedly plunged the blade into Paul's unsuspecting body. He only stopped moving when Veronica used an upward stoke and completely sliced the back half of his head off.

Nancy had learned much and she knew that this knowledge gave her an unfair advantage over both the living and the dead. Not all of the news was good though. A name started bouncing around in her head that made her feel extremely nervous.

Fred.

She would have to deal with him. First, she wanted more food and to find more recruits. The number of dead walking the streets was already increasing and she would undoubtedly encounter some resistance from the living. Thus, her first action was to find more servants and she was now reasonably confident that she understood how getting them worked.

Chapter 14

"Fucking shit eating, motherfucker!" Max cursed loudly, his bat, his magic Steve Garvey bat had broken with that last hit. He knew this was all his fault, that guy Norm got tagged nine steps out of the building, and went down screaming, "Mommy, oh mommy! Help me! It hurts, it hurts mommy!" in such a way that would haunt Max for the rest of his, probably very short, life.

Then that woman from accounting named Ann something? Ole what's-er-name, anyway, Ann had gotten pulled under her car, she died like a trooper cursing like a sailor and fighting until the bitter end, even breaking free after killing the zombie with her feet and hobbling along with Max and the other three until they were mobbed outside of, whose car? Fred's car _? 'Jesus'_ , thought Max _, 'I don't even know the names of the people who are dying with me? Which means they probably don't even know mine!'_

Anyway, the Jason guy, he got away clean, even gave that other woman a ride to her car and she got away. Then Ann was caught and the five in their group made their 'Alamo' between a newer V.W. Bug and an older Chevy Astro van, it took Max some mighty hefty swinging before he and a man named Alan managed to get over the bug and run the gamut of the lot towards Max's truck. All because Max felt parking at the edge of the lot burned off a few extra calories each day. Anyway, it was soon after that when Max cracked his bat on one of the undead that just seemed to spring up out of the ground all around them. Alan had been bitten a couple times before scrambling over the Bug to safety and apparently the blood loss caught up to him about right after Max cracked his bat on what seemed like the twentieth zombie. Some of them were fast and seemed smart, actually ducking out of Max's reach, one had a metal pipe in its hands and actually clipped Max on the shoulder before succumbing to the mighty fury of Steve Garvey's bat _. 'Fuck, this is it.'_ Thought Max as he swung his half bat ineffectively at the five zombies surrounding him, the decision to bring his rag tag group to parking lot now looked like a bad mistake.

Before he had left, it had seemed like such a good, simple plan.

"Okay," said Stewart, "We have all had a few minutes to drain the coffee pots and think our options over, I think it is fairly clear some of us want to try and leave now and some of the rest of us will attempt to create a distraction to let them get away clean. Everyone who wants to stay move over to that side of the room, everyone else move over there." Stewart gestured broadly with her hand at both sides of the room, while walking towards the 'wait' side herself.

When everyone had sorted themselves out they had nine people, including Max who wanted to make a break for the cars and eleven people including Officer Stewart and Steve, who were electing to wait for the military to move in, or at least wait for a few hours and see if something better came up. The people who were going to make a break for it discussed whose cars were where, the idea had been to make for the closest two cars and then ferry everyone else to their cars out in the parking lot before everyone left to get back to their families. Those who were staying would create a distraction on the other side of the building for a few minutes before the others left.

Of course, it had not worked out that well. Max found himself in the group being led by Norm, whose car was parked closest out of anyone to the building, which was why he had to take five people in his group. Everything had gone smoothly until they got nine steps out of the door when a zombie came running at the speed of a racehorse seemingly from nowhere, knocking Norm to the ground and sending the police flashlight Stewart had given him spinning through the air. After that all thoughts of staying in their own groups was forgotten and everyone herded together, a few more steps and a wild combat later and Max's group got separated from three others, leaving a group of five and a group of three composed of two women and some guy named Jason. Jason's threesome actually made it to their car, and spun through the lot, running down quite a few of the zombies that were after Max and his group. That's when Ann was grabbed from under the car. While they were fighting to get Ann out, Jason dropped off the first lady, unfortunately for her as soon as the car sped away and left her next to her car door; she was mobbed and brought down fast. However, the other passenger made it into her car and both of them tried to pick up Max's group before they became trapped in between the Astro van and the VW. The lady just drove away at that point, the guy, Jason, had rammed his car into one end of the V.W and then the Astro, smashing a few zombies, but not killing them, however this distraction allowed Max and Alan to make a break over the bug towards Max's car.

Max looked around the parking lot for a weapon of some kind, a stick, rock anything, but the zombies had him pretty well hemmed in, all of them seemed to be holding back, none of them were moving as slow as Fred had been this morning. Maybe the sunlight made them quicker or something, they all seemed to be following the lead of the guy in the green jogging suit, and Max swore that fat bastard was smiling, smiling, like he knew what he was doing!

"Alright lard ass, what do you think is so funny? Got me cornered, broke my bat, is that it? Well funny ha-ha, but I know karate you lame, foul smelling fuck, so bring it on!"

The zombie darted forward in a feint and Max could swear he heard him say, "Karate. Fuck." Before a loud crack sounded and the zombie lurched to one side of jogging suit staggered and fell to the ground. Another crack and green jogging suit zombie fell over, his shoulder a mess of spraying blood and bone. Max ran through the opening the two downed zombies made in the circle surrounding him, throwing his bat shard at one of the other three zombies as a distraction. As he ran, back towards the office building Max heard Stewart yelling to him and several other shots went off, most of what Max would regard as suppressing fire as they did not seem as well aimed as some of Stewart's earlier shots. He saw that she was making her way towards the parking lot, angling for her squad car while giving him some covering fire. She was yelling for him to get her flashlight. Everything again seemed to slow down for Max, as if his body had finally had enough punishment, his vision tunneled his hearing dimmed and he dumbly followed Stewart's finger pointing to see the flashlight Norm had dropped lying about two feet away from his right foot. He bent down to get it at the same time that something flung itself over his bent back. Suddenly time sped up again with a vengeance, Max whipped the flashlight up and into the rib cage of the very fast and agile zombie that had just tried to jump him, and it looked like the same zombie that had gotten Norm. Only now, it seemed almost healthy, if that were possible. The flashlight caved in a rib and probably would have been stuck if Max had not kept a firm grip on it, but the zombie's velocity separated it from the flashlight in one quick motion and Max was ready to pounce. He was going for a killing blow when Stewart screamed at him, "Get your fucking dumbass over here! Run asshole! Run, they are coming!"

Max looked around and saw that sure enough a mob of zombies were coming around the building running towards him, and in fact it looked like they could cut him off from the door, which Steve was holding open with one hand while gesturing with the other for Max to hurry up. Stewart had given up her movement towards her car and was hot footing back to the doorway. Max followed suit and while he swore that he could feel the zombies breathing down his neck, in reality he had enough time to get in the door, stop and then brace the door with Steve and Stewart. After holding it long enough for the lock to re-engage they all three cautiously backed off to see if it would hold.

It did.

"Fuck that was..." Max collapsed onto his knees between Steve and Stewart, "...close."

"Hey Max, you okay, not bitten are you? Max? Maaaxxx?" was the last thing that Max heard as he passed out.

Chapter 15

They had a light lunch; an elderly couple and a teenage boy they found stranded in a mobile home on Orchard Street. Then for dinner Nancy spotted a middle-aged man and two younger women, all dressed in business attire, creeping along a side street. The plan had remained pretty much the same, Nancy would pretend to be one of the living and lure their prey into a trap and then the chomping began. Nancy made the decision to completely destroy the grandparents and the teenage boy, she needed to repair the damage from Paul's blade and while Veronica was in decent shape, Jim was a wreck. Nancy couldn't justify taking on two old people and a boy that they would have to share food with and likewise she didn't want them out there eating food they could take later themselves, so she had Veronica finish them off with her blade.

Nancy now faced a similar decision. As normal, she had been the first to feed on the man and two women. When she had had her fill, she then let Veronica and Jim take what was left. She stood there watching the two of them feed and the energy bleed out of their victims when she noticed something. Veronica was nearly back to one hundred percent but Jim was nowhere near that mark. He was close to twice Veronica's size. Did that mean he needed to consume twice the energy that Veronica needed? It appeared so. Was Jim twice as valuable as Veronica? Already Veronica was showing signs of increased speed and agility while Jim continued to lumber along. Nancy still had use for Jim though. She had already invested too much into him to simply have Veronica destroy him. She decided he would do the grunt work, be the first line of defense and act as a sacrificial lamb should the need arise.

Veronica pulled away from the woman she had been feeding on and sat back on her heels like a major league catcher.

"Destroy him." Nancy instructed.

"What about those two? Destroy them too?"

"Naaa, they're too cute to hack into pieces. But from now on, try not to be so vicious when you feed," switching over to her most annoying mommy tone, "Just remember, if you tear an arm off it just takes that much longer for it to grow back. Alright dear?" Veronica was her child in a sick sort of way; she had birthed her into a new life after all. The completely stupid comparison made Nancy giggle.

Veronica grabbed her blade and strode over to the man. She wiped her face on the sleeve of his business jacket and then went to work on him with the blade. By the time she was done, his two companions had reanimated and were standing next to Jim awaiting Nancy's next move.

"A midnight snack anyone?" Nancy asked with an evil grin.

Jim led the way through the darkness with Nancy and Veronica a few steps behind and their two newest recruits bringing up the rear. Veronica destroyed any ghouls they encountered, male or female, young or old. She was becoming increasingly proficient with her blade.

Nancy stopped Jim when they passed in front of a GAP clothing store. Through the display windows, Nancy could see that the fall fashions had arrived. It had always bothered her how the department stores rushed from one season to the next, holiday to holiday. She didn't fret about it for long; Nancy decided it was time to do a little shopping.

Jim tried to push open the glass door but it was locked. The women watched as he beat his fists on the glass until they had left bloody streaks. For all of his work, the doors still showed no signs of giving.

"Um, Jimbo, how about you try using that?" Nancy said, pointing to a parking meter. Jim did as he was told and tried to pull it from its concrete confinements.

"Uh, no Jimbo, how about that one there? It might be a little easier." The owner of an abandoned Ford F150 had apparently tried to use the sidewalk to maneuver around the traffic nightmare that lay in front of him. In doing so, he had taken out two parking meters, a trashcan, and one newspaper stand and gained a total of five car lengths before he was forced to leave his truck.

Jim used one of the broken off meters like a battering ram and smashed it into the glass. The coins inside jingled with each blow. Eventually the tempered glass broke into a spider web of cracks. With his final blow, the entire pane of glass fell into the store, hundreds of pieces scattering on the floor like crystal cockroaches.

"Shall we?" Nancy led the group into the store.

"V, pick out something nice for your sisters." She then started shopping for herself. The electricity was not yet out, but a single fixture only dimly lighted the store. After going from rack to rack Nancy finally found a colorful pink flowered summer dress on the sale rack _. 'Sale rack? Shit, I could have anything in the store and I have to choose something from the sale rack?'_ she thought. Nancy went up to a full-length mirror on the dressing room door and held the dress up to get a preview of how it might look. Nancy started at the bottom and worked her way up. _'Too_ _long? Too tight? No, it looked like a good fit.'_ She then stopped and gazed at the reflection of her face. Other than some dirt and a few remaining patches of dried blood she looked good, damn good. She had spent hours in the gym fighting a losing battle against time and now the same body in the mirror was firmer and stronger than she could remember. The only thing that bothered Nancy was the way her brown hair still contrasted against her pale white complexion. _'A small price to pay.'_ she thought.

Out of habit, Nancy casually opened the door to walk into the fitting room. Had her heart not been dead it would have skipped a beat. When she opened, the door Nancy found a teenage girl sitting on the changing bench with her legs pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around them tightly. She was crying softly and let out a little squeak when Nancy opened the door to her hiding place.

Nancy held out her hands, "Whoa, whoa, there girl. Nothing to be scared of, are you alright?" The girl slowly shook her head "no".

"No, of course not. What a stupid question. After the last few hours, who in their right mind would be alright?" she said forcing her voice into a slight giggle to try to ease the girl's fears.

"I'm just going to gather a few clothes and then I'm heading to safety, the mountains or maybe some secure house somewhere. If you want you can come with me."

The girl wanted to believe, Nancy could see it in her eyes. Her eyes cautiously studied Nancy. After a few moments, she reluctantly placed one foot and then the other on the dressing room floor revealing a GAP nametag pinned to her shirt that read "Julie".

"There you go, Julie!" Nancy encouraged, "Is there anyone else hiding in here that might want to come along too?" she cooed. Julie nodded "yes" and pointed towards the back of the store.

"Come now, you can't hide in there the rest of your life can you?" Had Julie known that her life was about to end she might have decided to do just that. Nancy spread her arms in a welcoming hug and Julie walked into death's embrace. Like a vampire, Nancy sunk her teeth into Julie's artery and began feeding on her precious energy. Nancy thought she heard Julie let out a scream but could not be sure. She had the strange feeling that girl almost welcomed the end to her terror.

It had not been long since Nancy's last meal and she forced herself to break the connection with Julie. The teen dropped to the floor and a pool of blood started to form around Nancy's feet.

"Great. Just great" Nancy said looking down at the blood that stained her newly acquired dress. She dragged Julie by her sandy blond hair into the main show room and called for Veronica.

"Get your two sisters over here pronto; they need this more than we do. There is someone else in the back of the store. Find them and bring 'em to me, alive." Nancy then headed back to the sale rack hoping to find a replacement dress.

In the end, Nancy added Julie and another eighteen-year-old GAP girl to her undead gang. She instructed the girls and Jim to meet her on the sidewalk. Nancy reveled in the fact that she had control over their every move. A fact that reminded her she still had unfinished business to take care of. She wondered if five women and a stupid brute would be enough. _'Probably.'_ she thought after giving it some consideration.

The girls met Nancy outside the store. Veronica had dressed herself in saggy green military chic cargo pants and a tight white tank top, otherwise known to punk kids as a 'wife beater'. Her black bra was showing through the thin material. She had wanted to separate herself from the other girls so Veronica outfitted them in matching miniskirts and white schoolgirl blouses.

"Nice. Very practical, V. Those shirts will hold up well to the blood splatter." Nancy said sarcastically.

"What'd you do with Jim?" On cue, Jim exited the store, arms loaded like a pack mule with numerous blue and white plastic GAP sacks. Nancy raised one eyebrow towards Veronica.

"Blood stains." she answered smugly.

"You little bitch! You had me going there!" Nancy giggled, "Come on, we've got a date with Fred."

Chapter 16

When Max finally woke up it was past noon and he was again in Kirkpatrick's office, "What happened?" he groaned, attracting everyone's attention. Officer Stewart turned toward him, a brief look of concern on her face, which was almost instantly replaced with her trademark mask of steel.

"Smile at least you're alive." she said, "You passed out right when we got into the building, helped us hold the door and then just collapsed. Steve and I carried you to the elevator and lugged you up here. We are not sure if the zombies broke into the ground floor, but we don't think so. We're thinking of going on a little exploring mission, but wanted you along. I tried to wake you up but could not. Thanks for getting my flashlight back."

Max just looked at her and found a mix of emotions spinning through his head, guilt at urging his co-workers out the door to their deaths, happiness at being alive, he couldn't reconcile the feelings, at least not yet, he squished them down and replied, "Man I made a mess of things, huh?"

To his surprise, Steve answered him, "No, no you didn't, and I saw most of what happened from here. Some of the fucking zombies were hidden around the cars, most of the slow ones ambled around to the other side of the building when the others started making noise, but a lot of those you ran into just squatted down and hid themselves before you went out. I tried to yell down the stairway for you not to go, but you didn't hear me. If I could have gotten to you in time, maybe you could have seen what I saw. It isn't your fault Max, everybody wanted to go, their choice, not yours."

Max was genuinely moved by Steve's obvious concern, and some of his guilt eased. Not all of it was gone, that would take time and the screams of "Mommy!" were still too fresh in his head. "Did I...did I get bitten?"

"No you checked out clean buddy, one thing to be thankful for, uh better to have it now than later, no one else made it back. Alan was close, but he just kinda ran out of steam and got mobbed. I am not sure how much you remember, it got pretty wild there for a few minutes." Stewart looked down at the carpet and shrugged her shoulders, "You know if the National Guard does not come we are going to have to try again. I made an effort to get to my car, I have a shotgun in the front and more ammo for my nine millimeter pistol, I just could not get through the mob, there were too many of them and some of them were fast."

"Ah, how is your ammo holding up Jane?" asked Max.

Stewart shook her head side to side and replied, "Not good, 'bad' is a better word for it, and I shot off both clips when I tried to make my way to the car. I did have a box of loose rounds that I had grabbed and had in my jacket and I have a backup pistol with eight rounds, but it is only a twenty-five caliber, probably would not do much unless you got a real lucky head shot and it is simply not very accurate further out than about ten feet. I have nineteen shots left for my main pistol and eight for the backup gun. I shot off twenty- three shots out there in a matter of seconds, if we have to go out again we will need a better plan."

"How long was I out?" asked Max.

"Well you slept through the morning." Replied Steve as he offered him a hand up.

Getting to his feet, Max looked at them and said, "Thanks. I mean it, thanks. Ooh I feel bad, like I just got into a fight with a bunch of flesh eating zombies." Max raised his right hand to his left shoulder and winched with pain, looking at his shirt he saw it was spattered with blood and dirt, grimacing he said, "Well, time to find a new shirt, I won't miss this one, much. Did you see that zombie, the guy in the blue shirt, he clocked me good, look at this." Max pulled his shirt up and showed them the black and blue welt he had along the top of his shoulder.

"Shit yeah we saw it! We pretty much stripped you looking for bites." said Stewart, "That is a doozy of a bruise now, does it feel broken?"

"No, not broken, I had a broken arm once in high school and this doesn't feel anything like that. I am pretty sure it is just bruised, but what about the zombie? He was swinging at me with a metal pipe, not all mindless and unthinking. Doesn't that mean they could break in here? Doesn't that mean they are smart on some level?"

"Ah, they did seem to act with some sort of animal like cunning, at least from where I was watching, it was obvious that a few of them were lying in wait. That guy that took out Norm, man he was fast AND smarter than the rest, he picked him up and carried him off you know, away from the other zombies," said Steve.

Max nodded, "I seem to remember that, he bit Norm a time or two, then I remember him being hoisted up, then things started going really fast. What does this mean? What do we do? I mean we are counting on them being too stupid to bash in some windows, right?"

Stewart thought about it and said, "Well we already have both elevators opened and locked on the second floor, so they won't get up that way, you have five stairways here, and the doors should be easy enough to lock, as they all open out for the fire code. So if we can find the way to lock them they will have to be battered down, not just swung open. A couple cubical walls in each stairwell should slow them down and create enough noise to give us a chance to hear them coming. This office seems to be pretty defensible too. We had better get on this as soon as we can though. The thought of trying to hold off five stairwells at once is frightening."

Max and Steve nodded, Max said, "Steve didn't you date that clean up lady for a while, Stacey? Did she ever show you how to lock anything up to secure a few moments alone?"

Steve turned red, but shrugged, then nodded yes, "Ah, what's the point? Yeah we stole away a time or two after hours, mostly to the gym area, it was pretty easy to lock off, but I remember she kept a coat hanger in one of the closets down there to jimmy the locks when we needed to. Frick, I wonder what ever happened to her? We had a good thing going for a while there, you know?"

Max and Steve made their way to the gym area-cleaning closet and though Steve's cleaning woman had long since departed, the coat hanger she had used to secure the doors was still there. Max looked around and found some more coat hangers in various cubicles bent them into a shape, which looked vaguely like a capital 'C'. To use them was a simple matter of inserting one end of the wire into a hole on the bottom of the door's push bar and then curling the wire up around over the same bar to hold it in place.

After securing the locations they knew were empty, Max stood back and surveyed his work with a look of disgust on his face.

"What?" asked Steve.

"The fire marshal would be appalled! Who knew it would be so easy to lock a bunch of people into a building? I mean, this is an arson's dream isn't it? Disable the fire doors and torch the place?" Max shrugged, "Well, we better go get Jane and bring her with us to lock up the other stairwells."

After getting Officer Stewart, they went around to the other stairwells and locked them, leaving only one exit near the front doors unlocked. They also brought a few of the other survivors around to show them how to unlock the doors in a hurry if they needed to. Once the doors were locked, they decided it would be best if they did a floor-by-floor, room by room search of the building to weed out any remaining undead. This searched only turned up Tom's former boss, Ed Sawyer, whom Tom had locked in the break room on the third floor. It was with much reluctance that they opened the door and lured him out. Unable to find a decent weapon, Max stood by with a computer monitor hoisted over his head. Stewart stood down the hall with her gun drawn, Steve had the job of opening the door, and running back, the idea was not to use any of Stewart's precious remaining bullets. Sure enough as soon as the door opened, Sawyer started to push through it, going after Steve. For Max it was a simple matter of stepping up behind the zombie and crushing his skull with monitor. The only excitement was that Sawyer managed to stagger a few steps with the monitor completely covering his head before he fell for the last time. They put his body in one of the stairwells they were not planning on using.

After this, they raided the handyman's closet and set about dismantling the various cubical walls and tossing them down the stairwells. At the end of the day, they had one partially open stairwell remaining. This was eventually going to be used as an escape exit; the main lobby was pretty much open too. There was no good way to block it off and Max was worried about the main entrance quite a bit. As a precaution, the group as a whole decided to station a guard in the lobby at all times, changing them out every six hours or so, everyone was included in the rotation and the guard was given Stewart's backup pistol and two of the high-powered flashlights in case the power went off.

No one was looking forward to spending the night at work after blocking the stairways. The remaining survivors broke into the vending machines, filled every available jar and jug with water, and made themselves as comfortable as possible using the office furniture that was available. Most contacted their loved ones with their cell phones, if they could get in touch with them. In general, the sleeping arrangements were bad; there were no blankets, no good pillows and no mattresses. Some of the dozen people left had gone around to the empty floors and gathered up all the clothing they could find, including a few light fleece blankets that employees kept at work for when the air conditioning was on a little too high.

As the others were making sleeping arrangements on the second floor, Max ducked into Kirkpatrick's office and used the phone to call his wife's cell phone number. He had several missed call notifications on it, most were from Sarah.

"Hello?" whispered a voice on the other end of the line.

"Sarah?"

"Oh Max! We have been so scared, we can see out the little window near the front of the house and they, they, took old Mrs. Weilder out and, and, butchered her in her front yard, a whole group of them! Max, they ate her, they ate her, and I saw them eating her. They ate and ate until there was so little left...I just could not believe what I saw. What is going on?"

"Sarah, I am sorry you saw that, I am sorry Mrs. Weilder is dead, are you safe? I mean did anyone come into the house or anything?"

"No, no one came into the house. Where are you? I thought you would be home by now. It is so late; I thought you were coming home. We need you Max. I don't...I don't think I can do this on my own."

"Sarah you have to, look, how much charge does your cell phone have left? I don't think we should talk too long in case I have to call you again later. You need to get the food and blankets upstairs and not go downstairs a lot, no lights tonight, not even in the attic, if they see them they will be drawn to them, I think. I mean they don't seem to use tools or anything and I bet they would come after a moving light. Don't draw attention to yourself."

"Geez Max I am...I know, I figured it out, I am going to bring the kids down to use the bathroom and get blankets and everything, but we will be very, very careful and very fast, I won't have them breaking in here, if I can stop it. If you come home use, the garage to get in I am going to push a lot of stuff in front of the front and back doors. And mister, you better be calling my name loud and clear or I will brain you. No one and no thing, is going to eat my children alive."

Max was happy to hear the resolve in Sarah's voice; he knew she would take care of everything as best she could. Sure, she was a part time worker, soccer mom in her mid-thirties, but underneath her soft exterior was the solid core of a woman he married. Everything would be all right. He briefly filled her in on his attempt to get to his truck, leaving out the worst of it, and then said, "Get the gun Sarah. Get it, don't argue, you know what we are dealing with and even if you cannot use it right, you need to have it."

"I will Max, I will. We're going to be alright, right?" Sarah asked softly.

"Yeah, sure babe, it's just another day at the office. I am not sure who has the worse sleeping arrangements."

"Me, I have rafters and a piece of plywood to sleep on."

"I get to sleep on concrete covered by hard carpeting in one of the cubes. Still I will give you this one, two kids and you in the attic is going to suck."

"I win an argument at last! It has only taken fifteen years!" Sarah said.

"Well I am tired and bruised so maybe I can't argue really well right now. I love you and will call again in the morning."

"I love you too Max, stay safe. Good bye."

With that she hung up the phone and left Max wondering if he would indeed speak to her tomorrow.

Steve came over; it was obvious he had been listening in from the doorway. "Sarah is all right and the kids?"

Max nodded, "What about you, you make any calls?"

"Yeah I called my pop, he is smart, going out of his mind though, and he can't reach Emily, my sister or her husband or the kids. He is an old coot, more guns than sense and I tried to get tell him to stay put, but... Well honestly Max if anyone can survive this my old man can. Camping, hunting, hiking, the old guy is tough, I just don't know if he can take on a city full of zombies by himself. I could not reach Emily either. I...I fear the worst Max, I am sure they are not all right. Almost positive of it and I don't know what to do, but next time you break out, I am going with you."

"Oh geez, Steve, I am sorry man, really sorry. I met your old man once, when your mother died, it was not a good time to judge character or anything and, well he seemed like the kind of guy who might not survive his spouse by too long if you know what I mean. Like Johnny Cash or something. He pulled through that though, I mean your mom died, what three years ago?"

"Yeah about that, he had it rough after she died, then he started doing the same old things again, his hobbies, when he retired we, Emily and I, thought he might fade pretty fast too, but you know, he didn't. He got all-religious and made the best of things. God saw him through, God wanted him to be here, and God wills it kind of stuff. We have never been too religious, but we suffered through it, figured it was a coping mechanism and he recovered. Hell, I figured he would out live me. Until this happened. I don't know Max, I think we gotta get out of here and find somewhere safe. Safer."

"I agree, we get out, swing by your dad's, pick up my kids and head, where? Where do we go? Head for the hills? I am not so sure about that. I have been thinking a little and unless the military sets up a safe zone, we need to find a place to go too. Maybe Iowa? I have a buddy there and if things are not as bad maybe he could take us in?"

"Iowa? Sure, why not, North Platte is on the way, we can swing by and pick up Tom's family too. What do we do now?"

Max and Steve had made their way out of Kirkpatrick's office to where they, Tom and Officer Stewart had chosen to bed down for the upcoming night. "I am thinking we need the guns and ammo in Stewart's car." Max said.

Stewart looked up at this, but did not say anything. Steve, started to protest and then said, "Okay, yeah, I can see that, you have a plan, don't you, you wouldn't have said anything otherwise, let's hear it."

Max detailed his plan and by the time he was done, he knew he had them on board for a covert action later that night.

Chapter 17

Nancy and her posse were a block away from MAC Co when they heard the first gunshots. "Jimbo, be a sweetheart and go see what's happening" Nancy instructed. Reluctantly Jim shuffled forward and around the corner of the building out of site. A few moments later, he reappeared and reported seeing, "The living fighting with dead."

"That's it? The living fighting with the dead? Useless son of a...come on V let's take a peek for ourselves." After watching the scene unfold for a while, Nancy asked, "What do think we should do Veronica?"

Veronica harrumphed and hawed for a moment, making Nancy impatient, and finally spat out, "Wait until night. Watch. Break a window to get in if we have to. Kill them all and eat them, no more brothers or sisters, a big pack is hard to feed."

"Very good, Veronica! Very good indeed! You know what I really want though? I want a guy named Fred, I want to find him and make him dead. Fred - dead. Get it? He is hopefully still pretty stupid right now, but he is still, maybe, our master and he would be a very bad master. Death would not have improved him. Accounting. You know how it is."

Veronica made a laughing sound, awkward, but Nancy knew what she met by it. Nancy was concerned now, not worried, that might come later, but a Veronica who might resent her as much as Nancy resented Fred? Probably she would resent her even more, as Fred was just a mindless zombie and had yet to exert any influence on Nancy, whereas Nancy was controlling Veronica all the time. _'Yes, a pretty puzzle.'_ thought Nancy, perhaps cutting Veronica's share of the food back a bit might be in order. On the other hand, would it matter now? Nancy liked the feeling of eating and felt a compulsion to eat whenever she saw a human form, but did the effect wear off? It had only been, twelve hours? That was it? Nancy was not feeling hungry or worn down or in need of another meal, however she would not pass one up if it happened by either. The more she consumed the more powerful she felt, so she wanted more.

"Veronica, honey, momma is getting hungry again, can we get in there now for a quick bite or should we go find easier prey?"

Veronica screwed up her face, her very pretty, younger face, Nancy noted, and then she answered, "Easier prey."

"Why Veronica, why not these guys right now?"

"These are here, hiding inside, they won't leave, we eat others and save these for later, they will still be here. Right?" said Veronica.

"Why my darling girl you are quite, quite right. Jimbo! Let's go find us some grub. If you find one for us, you can have a leg to yourself, 'kay pal?" Nancy could swear she saw Jim's eyes go from dull and sullen to, a quick gleam of lusty hunger. Oh, he would find them something, Nancy was sure of it.

Chapter 18

The basis of Max's plan was to be quick and silent. Tom was in no shape to make a mad dash for the car, if anything his shoulder was more puffed up and swollen than before. He needed rest, but he also insisted he could play the role of lookout from the rooftop. The headlights on Stewart's car had gone out long ago. When full darkness came, the streetlights automatically came on and the zombies moved away from the now dark police cruiser toward the parking and streetlights. Better still a car swerved madly passed the building about eight o'clock and that drew a whole crowd of zombies away from the main building. By nine, they were ready to go. Steve would hold the door; Max and Stewart would run out towards the car. Max would run halfway towards the car and stop, then edge forward slowly; his job was to keep his eyes peeled for any movement. Steve's job was to do the same and keep the door open until everyone made it back. Stewart's sole job was to get to the car, salvage the shotgun, all her extra ammo and anything else she could gather that might be useful. Tom would act as God, overseeing everything from the roof and alerting them if any more than single zombies started heading their way. He was to let single zombies pass, unless they were unduly fast or dangerous looking. Max and Steve would have to bail Stewart out of any trouble they might have in the form of single zombies. When they got to the lobby they found Paul, on duty, waiting for Stewart to relieve him, as scheduled. He headed up to sleep leaving the three of them alone in the lobby. Max dug his cell phone out and called Tom's number on the roof.

"Yeah?" Tom answered.

"It is Max; you see anything since we left you Tom?"

"No, nothing. The pretty lights have them distracted and the fire down the street quite a ways still has a mob around it, right now everything is still clear, you could make a rush all the way to the deep parking lot if you wanted to."

Max considered revising his plan, nodded to himself and then to Stewart and Steve said, "Still clear, do we try for the parking lot too?"

Stewart said, "Shotgun and more ammo first, if we still have no trouble, we go for Steve's car and pull it up to the door and head in." Steve's car was closest of the ones they had keys for.

"Okay, Tom, gun first as planned, then the car if we can. We are heading out now."

Max had been going to take Steve's keys and get the car himself, he did not want to be responsible if something happened to Steve, but Steve insisted that he should drive his own car, as he knew it's ins and outs. Max agreed, if they got the gun and ammo out of the squad car, he would retreat to the door, Stewart would take up a cover position by the squad car and Steve would go after his car himself.

They set out, Stewart gripping the keys to the trunk in a tight-fisted death grip that Max could see even in the low light from the parking lot. They sprinted out to the squad car, Max going further than they had discussed to get a better angle of view on the building. Stewart hopped in the passenger door without attracting attention. She was doing something in the car for what seemed like eternity and then the trunk popped with what seemed like a loud 'poof' sound. Still nothing. Stewart also popped the hood of the car. She hopped out the passenger's side carrying the shotgun and a duffel bag, ran to the back of the car and put some unknown stuff into the bag _. 'Hopefully ammo'_ , Max thought. Then she closed the trunk quietly and ran to the front hood _. 'Not in the plan'_ , Max thought furiously _, 'not in the plan Stewart! Don't make stuff up on the fly damn it!'_

Stewart propped the gun against the front bumper and then opened the hood quietly, then opening it the full way, and reached in and did something, then with the flick of her hand, she let the hood close, making quite a 'thunk' and headed back to Max.

Max kept his mouth shut, but gave her a furious glare at the extra time she had spent deviating from the plan, ignoring his glare she whispered, "Bring this back and send Steve up."

Max hefted the duffel bag, which was surprisingly heavy, and sprinted back to Steve, whispering, "Your turn, good luck." He moved into the lobby, dropped the bag, and turned to hold the door. Steve was already sprinting past the squad car. Max saw Stewart open the passenger door to the squad car and the dome light went on. "What the fuck?" Max said softly. Stewart had left the cruiser lights on when she came into the building this morning, but had turned off the car. The lights had drained the power out of the battery even before Max had attempted to get to his car earlier.

Stewart quickly ducked in and turned off the dome light and Max saw her struggling to move over to the driver's seat. Steve was just a bobbing head out in the parking lot by now. "Tom, is everything still clear, we still good?" Max hated himself for asking because Tom knew what his job was and would only break silence if something happened and they needed to know.

"Yeah," was his quick the reply, "What's Stewart doing?"

Max looked out, Steve's car was moving! The taillights as he braked to come around the corner to the front of the building attracted unwanted attention. Closer still the squad car's engine turned over, it took a moment of grinding then that car started up too. Stewart pulled it nose first towards the parking lot then backed it up quickly to the right of the front door. Steve just popped his car over the curb and parked it nose first on the left hand side of the door, both cut the engines simultaneously and hopped out as Tom said into Max's ear, "Three of them coming around the side of the building four, five, uh, lots more attracted from the street." Stewart and Steve moved into the building quickly and quietly, Max slammed the door shut behind them and all three of them leaned against the door until the magnetic lock clicked on with a soft noise.

They backed away from the door and Max listened while Tom described the ten or twelve zombies that milled about the front of the buildings. When it was apparent that they were safe, Stewart let out laugh, "We did it!"

Max was ready to be angry, the squad car was not part of the deal, but looking things over it was a good call on Stewart's part and her initiative deserved praise, not condemnation. So instead he said, "Yeah, we, uh...I mean you, did. That was excellent work on the car. How'd you get it to start?"

"Well, cops have a lot of times where we have to sit at a crime or accident scene with our lights on for a long time, running the battery down was common enough that a few years ago the department bought those batteries with a special reserve in them to kinda of jump start the cars. Just flip a switch and you are effectively using a completely separate battery. Ours are heavy duty, and the alternator is wired to charge up both batteries when the car is running, we are good to go and have two cars now instead of one, not to mention a shotgun and ammo for my other guns. Is Tom coming down?"

"He is probably on his way. Good job both of you, Steve you were awesome, a world class run if I ever saw one." said Max, "So now what? We have the cars, do we tell everyone else? Make a break for it? How is the ammo situation now?"

Stewart answered, "Well good, compared to what it was, I have reloads out of my bag for my handguns and the squad car shotgun has both man shot and some rounds that are supposed to be armor piercing. I really wish I were in one of the cars that carried the assault rifles that would have been nice. Though I suppose with a head shot to kill, single shots are better."

"Man shot?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, double ought buckshot. I have some riot rounds too, doubt they will do much against a zombie, but man, they should knock them on their asses at least. Tear gas, what a joke, won't need that. It does get smoky though, that might be worth something. I don't think we need to go wake everyone up to tell them of our good fortune tonight, we'll tell 'em in the morning, everyone will more or less know by then anyway. I wonder how boss lady will take it? Bad I assume."

With that said, they waited until the next shift arrived to relieve them; their relief that came down was Walter "Walt" Coggins, an older guy whom Max had always liked. They left him at his post with the advice to get help if anything happened and went up to the cubicles they had staked out earlier to sleep.

Chapter 19

Cautiously they crept the remaining distance keeping to the shadows as best they could. Hiding behind an abandoned Ford Explorer Nancy and Veronica watched the survivors gain access to the patrol car and another, a sportier vehicle. All without attracting undue notice from the surrounding 'dumb' zombies.

"Look," Veronica directed Nancy's attention towards a police officer. "She's going to be trouble."

They watched as the cop calmly lifted the hood of her car and did something, then hopped in and backed it up to the front doors of MAC Company. Her professional manner under pressure was admirable, Nancy was thinking maybe a hole would have to be made to allow the more competent to survive what she had planned, and therefore allow her and her team to come out of it with less casualties as well. Steve was pretty calm too. Nancy recognized him from work, she always thought he was a bit of a flake, that impression was forced to change, it took balls to run out into the night of the parking lot, hop into your car and drive it back to the building. The other guys, Nancy saw one on the roof who she didn't, or couldn't recognize and another one hanging by the door, who might be a guy named Max. Nancy didn't really get a good look at him, so for now he was 'Max'. What the group did was just as informative as how they did it. They brought the cars back, why do that unless there were more people in the building? So there were more than four, but how many more? Nancy thought back to this morning, not many early birds came in, but she knew there was a night crew, but how many workers were on graveyard?

Nancy and Veronica watched from their hiding place taking survey of the remaining survivors until the cop closed the metal framed glass door behind her officially ending their adventure. Some of the dead banged and pulled at the door but had no luck gaining access to the building. Eventually they lost interest and shuffled away in search of new prey.

"I counted four, involved in getting the cars. We have no way to know how many others remained behind. There could be five or fifty-five people in there. What's the plan?" Veronica asked.

Nancy thought for a moment and then surveyed the parking lot. "How many cars would you guess are out there?"

"Twenty, maybe thirty at the most." Veronica answered.

"Does it make sense then that there would be thirty, maybe forty at most, in that building? Only I know some of us are already zombies, me, Fred, who else? I bet we are dealing with less than thirty people, probably closer to twenty."

"Yeah, that makes sense where does that get us?"

Nancy leaned her back against the cool metal of the SUV and slid down until she was sitting on the asphalt. Veronica, anticipating that this was not going to be a short conversation did the same.

"Where that gets us is that we are probably out numbered. Add in the fact that they have guns and I would say that we had better not take them lightly, don't you think? I think we need to let some of them go, the people who did this sure, they have the guns and the keys to the cars, if we can leave them an opening, they will exploit it and get out. Out of our way, leaving us with...meat."

Veronica did not bother to answer; her face told Nancy that she was still waiting for some kind of revelation.

Somewhat irritated Nancy went on, "Okay, let's think this through. They have two options, stay in the building or make a break for it. Apparently, they decided to go with the second option, they are getting ready to leave, if we wait too long to strike they will get away. They need food, water, family; they will try to leave soon."

"So, we wait until they try again, mix in with the rest of the dead and hope that we don't take a bullet in the head?" Veronica concluded with a frown.

"Yeah, doesn't sound too good does it? Plus, how long will they wait before leaving exactly? A day? An hour? The longer we wait the hungrier we get. Let's not forget our main goal here. The first priority is to get into the building, find Fred and make sushi out him. The stronger we are the better our chances of accomplishing that goal. Right?"

"I agree, but how do you recommend that we sneak into the building? The doors look secure and I'm sure they'd hear us if we broke one of the windows."

"Ah, that is why I am in charge my dear V." Nancy boasted as she revealed a card with her photo on the front and the letters MAC CO. printed across the top.

The two women finalized their plans and then returned to where Jim and the other girls were waiting. They decided to wait until things settled down a bit and enter the building using Nancy's key card at the back loading dock entrance. Nancy told Veronica that Jim and the other girls would be expendable should they encounter resistance from the living, but Veronica knew the truth, that she too was easily replaced in Nancy's eyes.

Nancy forced herself to wait the agreed waiting period before leading the group to the back of the building. Once there they watched for signs of life, however, the cool blue solar reflective tinting on the glass hid any movement or lifelike energy from their view.

Veronica suggested that they move towards the back entrance "zombie-like" and not as a group, so they do not raise any suspicion from anyone who might be watching from the inside. Jim was the first to make the short trip across the pavement to the rear entrance and when he arrived without incident, the other girls followed one by one leaving Veronica and finally Nancy to bring up the rear. Nancy quickly swiped her card key across the reader mounted to the wall adjacent the door. With a familiar beep, the small light on the card reader went from red to green and the magnetic lock released.

Walter "Walt" Coggins had been one of the "hiders" and had gladly volunteered to take his turn at watch in the main lobby. Walt now lounged in the security guards chair near the front entrance while the rest of the people rested in Kirkpatrick's office area. Walt had been the facilities maintenance supervisor and considered the MAC CO. building his home away from home. He was in his late sixties and had planned to work three more years before he retired. After the death of his wife seven years ago, Walt had made the unconscious decision to adopt MAC CO. and its employees as his second family. Walt knew everyone that worked there, at one time or another he had passed them in the hallway, replaced a light above their desk, fixed a jammed copier, or had in some other way provided the kind, friendly service that he had become well known for.

The security monitor beeped starting Walt out of his thoughts. He had been staring at the ceiling with his hands clasped behind his head contemplating if a person who had been a vegetarian became a zombie, whether that had any effect on their appetite for meat. Quickly he read the new entry, "Nancy Wieden, Marketing Department, 3:17 a.m., Loading Bay Exterior Card Reader, Approved."

Miss Wieden? Walt knew Nancy well since she usually worked late hours and he had routinely performed much of his building maintenance during that time and not disrupt the general employee population. On numerous occasions, when she had time, they would talk about their lives outside of MAC CO. Yes, he knew Nancy and he was extremely happy that she had made it to the safety of his building.

His excitement got the best of him and before Walt knew it, he had left the security guard station and was making tracks to be the first one to welcome Nancy. Walt cut through the middle of the lobby to a nondescript door to the loading docks, passing the one stairwell that had not been blocked off and making his way to the storage rooms outside the loading docks, rooms he knew and loved so well.

Every night at ten the building automatically switched to an energy saver mode so, Walt wasn't surprised when he entered the dimly lit loading area. Only one out of every four lights was illuminated but it was enough for Walt to see a small group of people heading down the hall, away from him.

"Miss Wieden is that you?" The sound of his voice caused the entire group to come to a sudden stop. He could see a figure at the back of the group turn around and when she stepped under one of the illuminated fixtures he was able to confirm that, yes, it was Miss Wieden.

"Walt?"

"Yes Miss Wieden, it's me and I can't tell you how glad I am to see that you are okay! I've been so worried about you, for that matter, all the other folks who never showed up today. Well, it sure is a blessing to see your face."

"Other folks? Walt, be a dear and tell me, have you seen Fred from accounting? I really need to speak with him."

"Fred? Why no, I can't say that I have seen him, we have some parts of the building shut off, those...but if Fred were in one of them he would have shown up by now. Why? Surely this doesn't have anything to do with business Miss Wieden, haven't you seen what has been going on out there? We have bigger problems to deal with. We should get you up to Kirkpatrick's office and the let others know you and your friends are alright." Walt said, acknowledging that Nancy was not alone.

"Can you recall if anyone in Kirkpatrick's office mentioned seeing Fred?"

Walt rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger. "No, no, I can't say that any of them have said anything about him to me."

Her tone now changed from businesslike to a considerably friendlier manner, "Okay then, no harm done, I just would really like to see him. Come over here Walt, I want to introduce you to my new friends."

The light above Nancy shown down on her like a spot light hiding her face in a dark shadow cast from her brightly lit hair. Her friends, as she called them, were just dark shapes outside of the spot light and Walt could not make out any details. For some reason he hesitated at first and then he remembered that this was Nancy, his friend who he was glad to see was unharmed. As he approached Nancy and her friends, a thought entered his old brain.

"Miss Wieden, why do you need Fred so badly?"

"Well Walt, if you need to know. He has something on me and I want to get rid of him." Nancy replied. Walt had just a fraction of a second to pull back and he was too slow. Nancy and her friends pounced on him like a pack of hungry wolves and tore the life out of him.

Chapter 20

Max could not sleep, not a surprise, given his location on the hard floor inside a cubical at work. However, with the kind of day he had been having he really expected to be able to do more than doze. Part of it was trying to sleep in an unfamiliar area, the noises were unfamiliar and some primeval sense told Max his 'home' was being invaded, and kept waking him up. Around three thirty Max opted to go empty his bladder and see if that magic would help get him to sleep again. He was not the only one unable to sleep, he saw several others moving around too, and someone had made a pot of coffee, probably to bring down to Walt. He entered the bathroom and had a feeling of déjà as there was some serious shuffling going on in the stall, however, after a second the stall opened to reveal a guy named Dave, who Max didn't really know. Dave nodded sheepishly, as if to say, "sorry about the smell" and went to wash his hands while Max stood at the urinal. He left while Max was taking his turn at the sink and Max heard him grunt just outside the door.

"What the fu--", was all Max heard Dave say. It was enough to cause adrenaline to pump into his veins, a feeling Max had grown all too familiar with in the last twenty-four hours, abruptly he shut off the water faucet. Out of habit, he grabbed paper towels and dried his hands. He cautiously went to the door and listened quietly, he heard a slightly familiar woman's voice whispering, "Keep quiet Jimbo! Drag him to the cube with the others; we might get a clean sweep after all. V? Have you found the ones with the guns yet? Quiet everyone, maybe we can catch them snoozing. Let me check out the bathrooms to see if we have any other naughty night pissers on our hands."

Max tensed himself, this was it, no weapons and a zombie bitch getting ready to come in and munch him. He anxiously looked around for something he could use to defend himself. Nothing came to mind and he heard the door swing open whirling around he was stunned to see it was not his door; apparently, it was the door to the women's bathroom. Quietly Max re-appraised his situation. The handicap bar, if he could pry that off he could bash someone with it, going into the stall he reached down, braced his feet on the ground and lifted as hard as he could. It was fastened too well, he was able to get it loose, but not break it off. Wait! A toilet plunger! A wooden rod fourteen inches long was not much, but better than having nothing. Oh and the metal trash can could be slid out of the wall too! Max backed out of the stall, keeping his eyes on the door while backing towards the garbage can. The men's room door swung open and a large male zombie stepped in. He immediately spotted Max and swung towards him. He was slow, though, _'Thank God, a break!'_ thought Max. Max grabbed the trash bin with one hand while pointing the toilet plunger, rubber suction cup first, towards the zombie. He sat the stainless steel trash bin in front of him like a make shift shield. The zombie, just stood there, apparently evaluating the situation, then he shuffled back to the door, slowly opened it and left!

Max stood for a second breathing hard, and then heard the women's bathroom door open and a female voice quietly say, "Well Jimbo, any other wee-wee birds?"

"No one." Max heard the zombie man say. Dumbfounded Max listened to the woman's voice reply.

"Good, let's go on real slow, V, you take point, Gap girl you are next up, Jimbo you got the rear, keep well back to cover us, the other girls will be following after me, go people, we have a cube hole up here on the left."

_'Up on the left? Uh-oh,'_ thought Max, _'that is my cube. Shit.'_ He went to the door, it opened in such a way to allow Max to peer down the corridor towards where the zombies were heading. The zombie Jimbo was looking right at him, then turned away and shuffled back down the corridor, the opposite direction. _'What the fuck is going on?'_ thought Max, _'He is letting me get the jump on them; it has to be a trap!'_

Still Max, knew it was not going to get any better than right now. Max eased out the door, bracing it against a loud slamming noise and headed off behind, what looked like an all-girl gang.

The lead girl was fast approaching the cube entrance, _'This is it,'_ thought Max. He ran up behind one of the three girls between him and the three zombies in the lead and swung the metal garbage can over his head, it made a resounding thud and the zombie girl dropped like a sack of cement.

When he was a kid, Max, like most of his generation, had watched cartoons. He was reminded of one in particular where the character would swing his guitar at his foes, making a grand 'el-ka-bong' noise as he struck them down. It was hilarious, the trash can, filled halfway, made the same noise as it smashed the zombie girl down.

A nice side effect of the strike was the loudness of the noise, Max had meant to scream out a primitive war cry, but somehow it came out as a faint gurgled squeal, definitely not the noise to wake the whole office as he hoped. The 'el-ka-bong', however, woke them all up effectively. As Max was readying a blow against one of the other girls, he heard Stewart screaming, "Get the fuck off me Steve! Get the shotgun, you Tom, you! Oh for fuck's sake!" followed by the sound of her nine millimeter gun discharging, the girl, V, came reeling out of the cube opening and the third zombie, pushed her and the second girl past the opening into Kirkpatrick's reception.

Max pushed forward into the second girl, who still hadn't quite figured out just what was going on, she was slow, slower than the three women in the lead and dressed pretty nicely too, in a blouse and mini skirt. Max could have admired it on a living body, that thought led to revulsion and he pushed her all the harder forward, screaming, "Stewart I am behind them, there are five or six left!"

That got the other two girl's attention, they turned on Max like slavering beasts and his all-out charge abruptly ended, at least he had the trashcan between him and them. Even if he could not raise it over his head to whack them, he could use it as a lousy shield to keep them a whopping eight inches away from his fleshy parts.

Stewart appeared behind the girls and Max ducked, mini skirt girl number one suffered what was probably her second fatal wound in the last twenty-four hours as the back of her head was forced through the front of her face. Then Max saw one of the faster moving zombies jump Stewart from behind, after that, he was busy dealing with mini-skirt zombie number two or was it number three? She was strong and Max had already been through a lot that day, she jumped up on him and her momentum, if not her mass, knocked him over onto his back. A shotgun blast echoed in the confined space of the office, but Max's girl kept on coming. He tried to flip her over using an old high school move from his wrestling days. He had a moment to reflect that he never thought that wrestling would come in handy, but hey, just goes to show that everything you learn has a proper application.

The mini-skirted girl went flying, a testament to Coach Julian's training and the laws of physics. Once again, Max was up and on his feet. He reached down and grabbed his trash bin as another shotgun blast echoed in the hallway. Stewart was screaming something, Steve was screaming and even Tom was yelling as he pumped the shotgun for a third shot.

_'Was that zombie called V? No the other one,'_ Max thought had taken a gut shot from the side and was struggling to rise to her feet, she appeared to be watching Tom and while this was distracting Max the girl he was fighting took the opportunity to rush him. He bashed her with the trash can, maybe breaking her arm, probably not, it was not a good enough shot, it did make her scramble around defensively, it was enough that Max was no longer on the defense and he swung the trash can around and around trying to keep her at bay. The shotgun went off again and Max heard Stewart say, "For fuck's sake Tom, shoot her in the head!"

By this time the cries started coming from Kirkpatrick's office, the door was shut and the screams were something Max knew he would never forget. Stewart was back on her feet and yelling more at Tom, then came to stand by Max, pointing her pistol at the mini-skirt girl number three, who promptly ducked into an open cube. Stewart did not fire, but turned and took three steps up to Steve, saying, "Gimme that!" As she jerked her secondary pistol out of his hands, she held it up in front of his face and said, "Safety! Off!" While sliding the safety to the off position, then handed the gun back and said, "Now go make yourself useful while I track down Max's new girlfriend. Tom, go clean up the mess in the office, save who you can."

Max and Stewart headed to the open cube when Max saw the girl climb over the walls to the next cube down the row, then the next. Stewart took a shot at her when she was making the second jump, and Max thought she had winged her, but the girl kept going, a few steps further and Tom was calling out, "Stewart! Is this a five shot or three shot? I think I am out!" The door to Kirkpatrick's office opened and Tom immediately fired towards the head of whoever was there, yelling "Fooled 'ya! You dumb fuck!" the body toppled backward and the door was slammed shut again. Tom fired through it near where a woman's head might be, leaned over to Steve, and quietly said, "I am out, I gotta reload, they open the door you hold 'em off with that little twenty five."

Meanwhile seeing the zombie girl fleeing back towards the stairs, Stewart said to Max, "She is running. We gotta go help the others if we can. C'mon." Max followed her as she reversed course and headed back to the reception area. Tom was reloading shells into the bottom of the shotgun and Steve was watching the door. Occasionally a head would peek through the opening of the door, but Steve did not fire at it. The screaming had turned to groaning inside the office. Max heard a woman's voice call out, "Throw down your weapons, and you won't be hurt!" from inside the office.

Stewart replied, "Hell no honey, you just step out here and we will end your unnatural life for you. Nice and quick."

Laughter greeted her words, "Not a chance, sweetheart! Max you out there?"

"Yeah, who am I talking to?"

"So, you survived so far, eh Max? That guy, Steve too. Better than I would have thought, or was it just luck so far?"

"Who the fuck are you?" Max called back.

"Oh, just little ole Nancy, you remember me, right? Marketing."

"Yeah, yeah, you tried to take a bite out of me yesterday, how could I forget?"

"Bingo, Maxo! Right in one, you guys gonna blow or end up like the other norms in here?"

"Let them go Nancy, let them go, I know you can, you don't need them!"

"Oh, but I do need them Max, oh but I do. This is powerful Max, like meth to an ice-head, only worse. I can't give you back your buddies, they are all dead, my crew got a little too 'over-zealous', there was one still alive before your friend did that very naughty trick with the shotgun. So, it is his fault she died, what a bad man he is!"

Tom looked sick in the pale light, but Stewart was quick to say, "Tom, they were probably dead anyway, you heard her, 'meth to an ice-head'." Then to the others she asked, "Do we believe her or blow this joint? We have at least one behind us and what if they left a door open somewhere when they came in?"

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck. I don't know if she is telling the truth, maybe they have hostages?" Stated Max. Calling out he said, "Nancy, prop open the door so we can see if you have any others still alive in there!"

"Oh Maxy, that is just a ploy to try and blow my fucking head off, and you know it! I would rather you came in after them, it will make my job easier if it comes to fighting."

"Fuck, don't believe that bitch Max, she was in marketing!" whispered Steve.

"I know, I know, I know. How can we leave if there is a chance any of them are still alive? I know Dave is dead, and it does not look too good for Walt either, but all the others? I mean could they kill that many people that quickly?"

"They were sleeping Max; it wouldn't have been much of a fight. We gotta decide man, the door behind us could be wide open." said Stewart.

"Fuck, why do I have to decide?" complained Max

Stewart just looked at him, as if reading the hopelessness on his face, and then said, "We leave. Now. It's not worth one of us being chowed by fucking superwoman zombie in there. Let's go."

Max just looked at Stewart, noting that no one was actually leaving yet, not even Stewart, then chocked out, "Not worth the risk, let's go." He felt a strange mix of relief and cowardice wash over him at the same time.

With that, they started easing backward. Stewart made Tom give her the reloaded shotgun and whispered to him to lead the group back towards the stairway. Reminded them to watch out for the girl who got away, and that she was going to try to take a shot at the woman in the office, by waiting for fifteen or twenty seconds after everyone else had gone out of sight. Stewart hid in a crouched position in the cube opening and aimed the shotgun at the hole in the door. In the poor light, she was pretty hard to see and Maxed wished Nancy a violent, sudden end as he backed off towards the stairs. About halfway down towards the stairs, they came across a lot of blood, but no body of Dave, the other 'naughty night pisser' whose blood they assumed it was. No zombie girl and no Jimbo either. Max warned the others that he had seen a male zombie run off this way too, and that Dave was now possibly a third zombie they would have to deal with.

"Shit this just gets better and better. How long do we wait for Stewart before we go back?" asked Steve.

"About three minutes or if we hear anything." replied Max. They waited in grim silence waiting, for anything. After about two minutes Stewart came down the hallway to them, she was coated in blood, and smelled like road kill that had been lying in the hot sun. Noticing Max's wrinkled nose she shrugged, "You have been worse, in fact you are not all that clean now, but I wasn't bit, you weren't either, right?" Max shook his head _'no'_ ; Stewart shrugged and continued, "So everything will be okay."

"Not for the rest of the crew in the office." said Tom

They all turned to look at him, and one by one, gave him a _'what can we do?'_ sort of look. "I think they were all dead already," said Steve, "Let's get to the cars and get out of here."

Chapter 21

They were not all dead.

From Nancy's point of view the raid went far worse than expected, she had lost a couple of girls, and Jim, no real loss, for the gain of what? A meal? And the need to build her gang back up? And worse no fucking Fred. This was it, no more "Miss. fucking nice zombie gal" as soon as possible she was going to get her hands on some guns and learn, the hard way if necessary, how to shoot them.

The next time she ran into some police or hillbillies, she would be prepared. Hell, even better, where could she get bulletproof vests? She watched through the doorway as the one they called Stewart slowly departed. Obviously, the living did not know she could see them with a sort of zombie vision that did not require light, and just as obviously, they had been hoping she would stick her head out to a more favorable location, like where it could be blown off.

_'Fucking Jimbo, what the hell happened to him? Max must have brained him, but where did Max come from? It is an office.'_ Nancy rationalized, _'he could have been hiding anywhere.'_ Something nagged at her thoughts, how could Max have sprinted up the corridor to bash them? That was it! He bashed in one of the girl's heads with a trashcan, like the kind you find in a bathroom.

Nancy waited until she heard the last woman enter the stairwell, then nodded towards V. "You got these under control, V?" nodding towards an older woman, Kirkpatrick's young secretary and a middle aged man who were all that was left of what Nancy thought of as her 'Pantry'. Veronica was definitely worse for the wear, she acknowledged Nancy with a slow, careful nod but her eyes never left the food.

"Okay, I will tell you what V, you can eat the first one of them who gives you ANY trouble, got it?" Turning towards the 'food', she repeated her question, "YOU guys got it?" they all nodded _'yes'_ vigorously.

Nancy slipped out the door towards the hallway. She was surprised to find Julie was not dead. The poor dear had been feigning her second death, lying like a slug with a bad head wound and most of her torso blow away in the office right behind the desk. Nancy pulled her into the office and soothed her, saying, "I know it hurts Julie, I know, shhhh, shhh, it will be okay, you just rest up here. I will be back soon and we will decide what to do."

Again, Nancy made her way towards the bathroom, again she was brought up short, by another girl was crawling out of the cubicles near the stairwell door! The second of the trio of girls, whom Nancy had expected to have been killed, was also alive and in good shape! _'Well, maybe this raid did not go so badly after all!'_ she thought to herself. _'Time to name this one I guess.'_ She mumbled to herself, "You! I never learned your name; Julie was 'Gap Girl', what do you want to be called? You want an old name or a new one? C'mon, I got things to do girl!"

The zombie stammered out, "I wa-was Julie, too."

"Oh, of all the damn luck! Well, 'Julie too' I can't have two Julies running around and the original hardly likes 'Gap Girl' as a name, it is more of a title, what is your second choice?"

"Um-um, Trish? My old middle. Name." said Julie who was now Trish.

"Fair enough Trish, you hide in this cube and keep your eyes out for anyone coming back from the stairwell and your ears on any sounds coming from the office. If you hear anything from the office bang on the bathroom door as you go by and run help your sister Julie, got that? Otherwise, just yell for help and keep your head down?"

Trish, nodded yes and Nancy bent over in the hallway and picked up a dented trashcan that was not too far from what Nancy suspected was her only casualty of this raid. Dented and gooey from hitting her gal, she walked the bin back into the men's room. Sure enough, the one there was missing, not positive evidence, but goddamn good enough for Nancy. "Jimbo you lying sack of shit, you better hope someone else finds you before I do, 'cause I am not going to be nice if we meet again."

Nancy headed back to the hallway gathered up Trish and they both went back into the office with the others. Looking the situation over Nancy knew she had to do something about or for Julie, she would not leave her there handicapped, and so it was time for healing or for finishing her off. Which one of the three hostages left has to be eaten to see if they could stimulate Julie's healing powers? Ah, a volunteer! The younger woman's hand raised into the air tentatively, _'This is great'_ , thought Nancy, _'If only all the food would be so co-operative!'_ Aloud she asked, "Yes?" as she pointed to the girl.

"I...I, gotta go pee, please! I really gotta go badly."

"V, you up to taking the 'food' into the bathroom for a quick pee and then bringing her back?"

Veronica nodded _'yes'_. "Good." said Nancy, "Oh and bring the old woman too; you might as well get them both relieved at the same time."

When they had filed out of the office, Nancy turned back towards the remaining man. 'I guess I was right, a choice was made.'

In the bathroom, Veronica took up a position just outside the door while Amelia and Diane went into their stalls. Amelia knew she was dead, and that any chance of splitting the group watching them made the odds better than standing in the office waiting to be eaten or converted to a zombie. Kirkpatrick's office was a dead end and she would have had to get past all the zombies if she had tried anything a few minutes ago. Now she only had to get past one zombie. As Amelia had hoped Nancy sent Veronica to watch them, she seemed to trust Veronica more. Nancy didn't seem to notice how badly injured Veronica was, the shotgun blast had almost decapitated her and she could barely limp along, though she did seem more intelligent than the others under Nancy's control did. Now all that she had to do was figure out how to plan something with Diane.

"Diane." she whispered, "Diane, if we go back into that office we are dead, we have to make a break when we get into the hallway, just run for the stairs, okay?"

"I...I can't Amelia, I can't run for long. Asthma. I will try, it is our best shot, I know, I am afraid Amelia, so scared I can't hardly move. Do you really think they will kill us?"

As if in answer to that question, they heard a man screaming from Kirkpatrick's office, loudly and in great pain. Amelia jumped up and hissed, "Now! Now while the noise may distract the other one!"

They rushed out of the bathroom doorway, Amelia clutching a wooden handled toilet plunger in her hand as they tried to make their escape.

Chapter 22

Jimbo was happier than he had been since coming back from the dead, finally away from that bitch Nancy he could be his own man. He had been maintaining a charade of ignorance and slowness since his last meal, when he had sneaked a bit more of the meal than Nancy had suspected. He thought he was thinking as clearly, as he had before he died and even if his body was still slower than before death it was his mind that mattered. With a good mind, he could lay plans for his liberation and everything worked out well so far. He just had to make absolutely sure he never ran into Nancy again. Ever. That vindictive bitch would make him pay in spades if he were ever at her mercy again. His plan to make sure that never happened would be to form his own gang and eat, and eat and eat; every meal made him stronger and he would eventually gain enough power too no longer be afraid of anyone.

Once he made it out of the building, he no longer felt so compelled to stay close to her, compelled to follow her every command like some sort of twisted masochist. Now he could eat when and what he wanted, and as much of the kill as he needed, no more second fiddle to a bunch of tiny bobbing, dressed up skanks. He exited the Mac CO. building and headed into the parking lot, looking to see which direction he could go, preferably towards a suburb somewhere to get himself a snack. Plus, the risk was low, liberals didn't have guns and in this part of town, people drove hybrid cars and smoked dope in their back yards. They would pay for that now, it was only right. As he neared the far edge of the parking lot he saw a male zombie shambling around and he got that familiar taint of a feeling again, the one that said, "Come to me." Nothing he could not break free of, but uncomfortable in its own way. Could it be? The very man Nancy was looking for, Fred?

Jim crept closer and looked on the zombie. _'Pathetic! He is in even worse shape than I am! How can I use this?'_ Jim thought for a moment and then stepped up to the other man and grabbed him by the arm, turning him into the light just a bit. Sure as shit, he had a key card that read 'Fredrick Smith' dangling from a cord on his belt with the words 'Mac CO.' emblazoned on the front above his picture. _'Oh this is good.'_ thought Jim, _'Very good indeed!'_

Chapter 23

Max, Stewart, Steve and Tom made their way back to the main lobby of Mac CO. Nothing, no open doors, only a very dead, much eaten Walt tucked behind the doors to the loading dock. The other doors were all closed; everything was locked up, as it should be.

"How did they get in? Everything is still locked up!" Said Steve.

"Tell 'ya in a second," said Tom. He went over behind the desk to the computers where the camera screens were still running and started playing back the video from the last half hour. "There," he pointed at a nondescript door that opened discretely into the lobby.

"The supply center, yeah, the logs say Nancy came in through the door next to the loading ramp twenty four minutes ago. Why didn't we block that door off?"

"It was secured, very heavy anyway, we didn't think of it? It escaped our notice? I don't know. We just were focused on the stairwells and side doors, not the loading dock. Damn." said Max.

"Yeah. Damn. Good thing we have the cars lined up and ready to go. Where are we going anyway?" added Stewart.

"Home to get my wife and kids." said Max.

"Over to check on my sister and her family." said Steve.

"Back to my apartment to get my laptop." added Tom after a moment.

Everyone turned to look at Tom, "Your laptop? Seriously?" asked Stewart.

"Er, well it is brand new! I only live, like a mile away, I am sure it is along the way to Max's house or Steve's sisters. Plus maybe my roommates are there and I can get a bag with clothes and stuff."

"Hmm, a mile away, only if it is really along the way, you can get new stuff now." said Stewart, "Okay then I think we should still stick together, who lives closer? Max's family or Steve's sister?"

Max had a sinking feeling, he knew his house, and way out west in Arvada would likely be further away than anywhere else Steve's sister might have chosen to live. He was right, after comparing notes though it was not as bad as he had thought, Steve's sister lived off Pearl Street not too far from the highway. Tom's place was only about a two-block detour to the highway, so they would stop there too, maybe even crash for an hour or two if it was secure enough.

"Okay people, who rides with who? And let's divvy up the guns. Max, I think you should be with me in the cruiser, Tom you keep the shotgun and go with Steve; we will make do with my nine-millimeter and the billy club. Is this okay with everyone?" asked Stewart.

"Oh yes, sir, ma'am, sir!" joked Steve, "It sounds good, you guys follow us right? Tom give her your address just in case we are separated. In fact lets write all three addresses down and give each of us a copy, we meet at Tom's place, then my sister's place, then Max's house in that order. If any of us get there first we leave a note in the...the freezer for anyone who follows? Okay?"

"Good idea! Steve, very simple, yet elegant." said Stewart.

Steve blushed, and Max could not help but say, "Ooh love is born and we witnessed it, eh Tom?" This earned Max a glare from both Steve and Stewart, but brought a laugh from Tom.

"On second thought the new arrangements are: Tom and Steve in Steve's car, me in the cruiser and Max out front trolling for trouble as we creep the cars along behind him."

"Sounds good to me." Quipped Steve.

They all stopped when they heard a sound from somewhere up the stairwell above them.

Stewart grabbed a pad of paper and shoved it into Max's hands, "Write the addresses." Then she turned and took up a position covering the stairwell door.

Max got busy writing, getting Tom's address first, then Steve's and finally putting his own at the bottom. He then went over to the copier behind the desk and fired it up, placing the pad on it for copying, hit the number four and printed out four copies of the sheet, which he handed out to everyone. The noises from the stairwell were louder, a gasping kind of heavy breathing.

"Let's roll," whispered Stewart. They checked the front doors, saw they were zombie free, and then burst outside into the night, and ran towards the cars. They were loaded and ready to go in seconds and both vehicles started without a sputter. Getting out of the parking lot was no problem at all and as they turned onto the street Max could swear he saw the zombie 'Jimbo' leading another zombie up the street by his tie.

Chapter 24

Amelia and Diane rushed out of the bathroom, bum rushing the zombie girl who reacted faster than they would have thought possible as she had suffered from a shotgun blast to the upper torso. Amelia shoved her rubber plunger into the zombies face and pushed her backwards, while Diane rushed headlong for the stairwell, the continuing screaming from Kirkpatrick's office covered the noise of their encounter with the zombie girl. As Diane rushed past the prone zombie, it reached out with its good arm and grabbed her ankle. Amelia could tell that Diane was beyond the normal 'fight or flight' mode and could also hear that her breathing was becoming irregular and sharp. Amelia beat on the girl with the plunger. However, a plunger was just not the sort of weapon needed to kill this zombie, and probably not any zombie. Amelia jumped into a nearby cubical and grabbed the computer monitor off the desk, pulling an assortment of wire and cables loose as she rushed out to smash it down on the girl's head, the resulting crash was loud, but loud enough to alert the queen in the office? Amelia did not wait to find out. Diane was on her hands and knees gasping for breath trying to reach the stairwell, one hand fumbling in her pocket, Amelia reached her and lifted her up, half dragging her into the relative safety of the stairs. They leaned on the doors and Diane's hand came up with a small tube of asthma medication, which she inhaled immediately. Amelia guided her down the stairs trying not to fall as they both stumbled downward to the ground floor.

The lobby was cast in an eerie red light, taillights! The sound of a car leaving was too much for Amelia to bear, she ran towards the door, leaving Diane behind, and screamed, "Wait! Wait God dammit! Wait!" to no avail, the cars were gone. Diane came up to her, a shocked look on her face, "They left us?" she wheezed. "Oh fuck."

Amelia turned back to Diane and said, "Yeah, my dumb fucking luck, sorry Diane, I have a way with dumb fucking luck. Nothing ultimately bad happens, just enough to make my life a living fucking hell. And now you are caught up...." Here Amelia trailed off and looked beyond Diane.

"What?" asked Diane turning around to look, "What is it?"

"The copy machine light is green, it isn't in 'sleep mode' anymore, so they photo copied something." said Amelia as she pushed past Diane to the machine, she looked at the codes and then pressed a few buttons on the machine, saying, "I am going to get a copy of it from memory and print it off." The machine clicked on and spat out a copy with three addresses on it, complete with names for "Tom", "Steve's Sister" and "Max's House" written above the corresponding address.

"Clever trick" said Diane, "But did they leave the original?" Diane lifted the cover and sure enough, the paper pad was still lying on the top of the printer face down. "See?"

She grabbed the pad, tore off the first sheet and stuffed it into her pocket, "Now we each have a copy. Oh and let's not advertise that we used the machine, okay?" With that, she reached over and held down the power button until the machine clicked off.

"Good" said Amelia, "That clears the memory too. Let's get to my car." With that, they left the lobby of Mac, CO., a pad of paper on the lobby counter softly rustled as the wind from opening the door blew through.

Outside Amelia said, "Let's just go nice and slow, maybe we won't be noticed so quickly. My car is just over there." The two women could not have chosen a better time to leave the building, just moments before two automobiles had left attracting and distracting all the nearby zombies and they made it to Amelia's car wedged between two others before they attracted the attention of a zombie near the edge of the parking lot. Diane leaned up against the car next to Amelia's and tried to regain her breath. Amelia reached into her pocket and then let out a whimper, "Oh no. Oh-no. Oh-No-oh-no-no!"

"What? What?" demanded Diane

"My keys are in my purse, in my desk in Kirkpatrick's office!" sobbed Amelia.

Diane smiled and said, "Don't worry honey, we can take my car." she held out a key chain and clicked a remote unlock button, the lights flashed and doors on the car she was leaning on made a 'snick' sound as they unlocked, "You drive, I am not so sure I can."

Diane hopped in the passenger door and Amelia wasted no time scooting around to the driver's side and climbing in before the zombie reached the vehicle. "Wow," she said, "I never drove a 'Caddy' before!"

"No time like the present, it is an automatic, you won't have any problems. Where are we heading?"

Amelia looked at her as she sped out of the Mac CO. parking lot, "Well the list has three addresses; I would have to guess they are in some order, probably from the first place to the last place they plan to end up. I say we head for Max's house instead of trying to chase them around the city. Besides, I grew up in Arvada; I know right where this is."

"Why go after them at all? Why not go somewhere else?"

"I, I don't know exactly. Max and Stewart have stayed alive so far, they might have a plan and I just can't think of one right now. So," she shrugged, "I want them to do the work of figuring out where to go. They owe us that for leaving us behind."

Diane gave Amelia a sideways look and responded, "Amelia, dear, we are still alive so far too. Don't underestimate us."

Chapter 25

"You dumb little bitch!" Nancy spat, looking down at Veronica, who sat cowering on the floor, "I give you one little task, one simple thing to do, 'keep the meat from escaping' and you cannot handle bringing them to the bathroom?" Nancy turned towards the window in Kirkpatrick's office and watched as a Cadillac sped out onto the street, making towards the highway in the pre-dawn light.

"Well V, I am not in such a forgiving mood right now, anyway you can see Julie got the lion's share of the meat, and there ain't much energy left unless I miss my guess. Trish, you might as well eat what is left, it looks like Veronica let her supper get away." Turning back to Veronica she said, "V, you are the hunter returned home without any protein, your job today is going to be to find us more. And by 'us' I mean you, and me I could use a bite. If you don't find anything suitable I may give cannibalism a try."

"W-what? Cannibalism?" whispered Veronica.

"I mean you, V. You. C'mon, let's evaluate our options here and decide what to do. Trish, check the guys pockets, look for car keys, dear. It seems everyone is driving these days, maybe we should jump on the bandwagon too?"

A quick search revealed the man was carrying keys for a Chevy, scanning the lot Nancy could make out several cars remaining and a van, but she was not a car person before becoming a member of the undead and the change had not imparted her with any of that mystic knowledge either.

"V? You know cars? No? Trish? Julie? Oh, for Christ sake the minute we need Jimbo, he is not around. Well we do it the hard way, check each Chevy until the key fits, there can't be that many of them in the lot. Julie, you ready to roll yet?"

Nancy had been amazed at the progress of Julie - since she fed her most of the man, they had slain in Kirkpatrick's office, her torso had fully re-attached, she could stand up and she seemed more mentally alert than before the shotgun blasts. She still needed more meat, the healing process had slowed down dramatically after the first five minutes and she was barely mobile. The point was she was not a loss, a four-girl gang that was a modest power in this new world.

"Alright girls, let's go."

Nancy led the way down to the lobby from the internal stairwell next to the main elevator shaft. When she got there, she looked around, noticing a few changes and spying a notepad that had not been there when they passed through just an hour before. "What's this girls? Someone has been doing some writing." She picked it up, but it was blank. "Hmm, I did this once when I was a kid, hand me that pencil V, it is time to play 'spy'. I saw this once on the Kid's Club on PBS." Nancy scribbled the pencil lightly in a sideways motion across the page, revealing the three addresses Max had scribbled down fifteen minutes before. "Hah! A clue Scooby! Now, we probably know where they are going, this will be plan 'B'. We still have to find Fred, if we don't find him we may head over to..." she scanned the paper briefly, resting her eyes on the last address, "Max's house and see if we can pick up a quick meal and let V make amends to me for letting the meat get away. Plus, I am sure Julie would like a word with that computer geek who shot her, right Julie?"

Julie nodded, "More meat first. This is way west of here, a long walk. Maybe we drive?"

"Yeah, let's go take care of getting us some wheels girls, no need to stick together just find a Chevy and stand next to it so we can see if the key fits. Oh, V? Go grab Walt's keys too, and then we can choose the ride we like best." Nancy dearly wished she had hung onto her keys, which, as far as she knew were still sitting in the Gap where she had changed clothing. Shrugging she thought if the cars here were worse than hers were they could always drive the couple of blocks to pick up her keys.

There were not many cars left in the lot and finding a Chevy was made easier by the fact that there were only two parked out there and by the fact that Walt's keys were also for a Chevy. His was a rusted out piece of shit Impala, the other was a white Chevy Van with a sticker Nancy recognized from visits to her sister's house. Her nieces were infatuated with DVDs of the cartoon that this character starred in and obviously, whoever the guy was in Kirkpatrick's office he had younger kids in his life too.

"We take the van girls, hop in and I will drive. We are going to circle this block then start circling block by block until we find that fucker, Fred. And keep an eye out for Jimbo too, we didn't see his body anywhere and the guys that left didn't seem like they had enough time to hide any bodies to me."

The girls climbed in and, ironically, buckled up. Nancy followed suit, soon they were driving out of the parking lot with Mojo-jojo the genius monkey, one of many villains from the now aged "Power Puff Girls" cartoon, staring evilly at the empty lot behind them as they left.

Chapter 26

While everyone had been quick to go for the cars, not many were actually driving. Max and company rapidly discovered an accident about halfway to Tom's house - a bad accident that came with three lingering zombies feeding on the carcasses of the victims. Stewart backed up, Steve already too close to the pileup, veered onto the sidewalk, taking out a zombie who was turning towards the sound of the cars. He almost was hung up on a mountain bike but when he came down off the curb on the other side of the wreck the bike tore free.

Seeing that Steve had cleared the way, Stewart stopped and started forward again. The two remaining zombies watched the car with rapt attention, but made no moves toward them. Stewart cleared the wreck and started following Steve's car, which was leaking what looked like fuel out the back. Stewart honked and pulled up alongside Steve on the four-lane street. Max rolled down his window and they motioned Steve to stop.

When they stopped Stewart said, "Good driving, seriously I mean it, if you had not veered we could have been picking you out of a wreck. Max jump out and go check Steve's car."

Max hopped out and peered under the car, he clearly saw a large hole in the gas tank spilling fuel onto the pavement.

"Not good, gas is leaking everywhere and it looks like your muffler is hanging on by a thread."

"Fuck. Damn it. This is my car, my car! Now what?" ranted Steve.

Stewart looked around and said, "Hop into the cruiser, no choice, I hope you don't have anything in there you can live without."

"Worth my life? Not hardly! I just...you know, it is my car! You never want to see something happened to your car. Or be forced to give it up, not like this."

Max, between both vehicles, saw the zombies from the wreck peering their way, both were making tentative steps towards working their way up the block towards them, using cover as they came.

"Ah, the zombies are coming; I see two behind us, about half a block away, so quite chit-chatting and move please."

"Fine." Steve patted the dash of his car while Tom opened the door on the passenger side, both moved into the cruiser and they were soon underway, at a steady, slow, twelve to fifteen miles per hour. Tom gave directions to Stewart from the back seat and they soon arrived at his apartment complex, they had to go up onto the sidewalk twice more to skirt accidents before they arrived. The place was quiet, no sign of violence or undead, just another normal day in south Denver, quiet and chilly as the sun began to lighten the sky on the plains behind the buildings.

The apartments were set up with outside entrances, almost like a massive cancerous duplex gone wrong. Tom climbed out of the cruiser and Max joined him. Stewart said, "Good you two go and get what Tom needs, Steve and I will hold the fort in the parking lot, we will move the car around the building so any zombies come after us and leave the way clear here. If we honk it means 'get your asses down here', if we hear gunfire, we will come up and assist. Everyone clear?" There were grim nods all around. "Good I won't get worried for ten minutes, anything more than that and I probably will leave Steve with the car and come after you."

Max followed Tom up the stairs, "What level is your apartment on?"

"Third floor, the top. It has great views though, worth it."

"You mentioned roommates? How many? Any girlfriends that stay over or pets or anything else that might be moving in there?" asked Max.

"No, nothing. Here you take the shotgun, if my roommates are... are undead I might hesitate, you won't 'cause you don't know them."

"Makes sense. Safety off? Yeah? Okay, let's go in." in a stage whisper, he continued, "It had to be the third floor."

Tom stage whispered back, "I love you too."

They got to the doorway on the third floor and it was cracked open, there was blood on the landing and some footprints had been tracked through the blood, going both into and out of the apartment. Max took the lead and softly pushed against the door with the barrel of the shotgun. The place was dark, very dark and the twilight from the rising sun was not good enough to shed any light into the house. A soft blue glow turned on behind him and as he looked back at Tom, he saw that he was holding a small key chain light and trying to use it to push back the darkness in the apartment. It helped, but only a little. Cautiously Max stepped into the apartment, whispering to Tom, "Turn on a light, not a bright one if you can help it, or maybe open the fridge. I don't know where I am going here, whoa!" As he said the last part Max stumbled into something on the floor, it felt like a long pillow weighed down with a lead weight. As he caught himself on the couch, Tom brushed by him and shined his light on the floor.

"Oh God! Oh God!" then turned aside and started throwing up on the carpet. He also took his hand off the light plunging them from gloom into total darkness once again. Tom's sobbing cries grew louder and Max hissed at him, "Pull it together Tom! You gotta pull it together; whatever did that could still be here!"

"No, no you don't see you didn't see. Here take this." with that, he grabbed Max's hand and shoved his key chain into it. Max fumbled for a moment before finding the light, then turned it back on and shone it upon the body, one dead person; a man with severe head trauma. _Oh. Oh, no, not good._ He was not bitten to death or munched on anywhere as far as Max could tell, just beaten about the head. "I see it Tom. I see it, who would have done this?"

"I don't know, I don't know, it is so...so..." retching sounds again as Tom once again voided his stomach, "Oh God I gotta pull it together. Peter Hambran, that was one of my roommates, him and Gray, we called him Gray, but his real name was Gene. Gene Tandry. They shared one room, I took the other." Tom stood up and Max heard him make his way into the kitchen, where it sounded like he was turning on lights and opening the refrigerator door. Nothing was happening.

"No lights, no power," said Tom.

"Any flash lights anywhere?"

"Err, I keep one in my bedroom on the nightstand, we have some candles though, it was Gray's birthday last Saturday, hold on a sec."

After fumbling through some drawers, Tom struck a match. In that light he watched Tom, approach the stove, a gas stove and then Tom light a burner. "Well that works, now for the candles."

A short time later two burners and four birthday candles were burning, casting the main room of the apartment in a dancing light of shadows. Max shut and locked the door to this light. He then grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and spread it out over the late Peter, obscuring his corpse from view.

"Well, probably anyone or anything else would have been in and out of here by now. There are four doors down the hallway. I am guessing, two bedrooms, a bathroom and a closet?"

Tom nodded, "My bedroom is on the right. It's the last door on the right." Tom got up and headed to the hallway. He peeked in the closet first, nothing. Then swung the partially open bathroom door open, his candle light was enough to determine nothing was in there. He hesitated and went to the left door. Max approached with two feet, watching both doors with wary eyes. Tom swung the door open, letting a wave of foul odor out as he did so. So many things happened at once that Max once again felt like he was in a slow motion movie. First, he saw the remains of a man on the bed. Then he saw the man's hands and feet were tied to the bedposts. Movement. He turned to see a naked man, no a zombie fling himself towards the door. Tom dropped back onto his butt. The zombie seemed to hang in the air, Max raised the barrel of the shotgun while keeping the butt against his hip, and he fired and struck the zombie's neck and lower face. Tom screamed as the headless corpse landed on him. The zombie on the bed had his, its, hands tied to the bedposts above his head; his feet were similarly tied to the corner posts at the foot. Tom was screaming. Max took a moment to let his eyes readjust from the flash of the shotgun blast. Someone was yelling for Tom to shut up. _'Oh it is me.'_ Max thought, trying to quiet down, then he turned to help Tom up, saying, "Shut the door Tom, shut the door man!"

Tom complied shutting them in the hallway and blocking out the scene in the bedroom. Max wasted no time opening Tom's door; he was surprised to see a bald headed young man pulling on a shirt, barely visible in the glare from the parking lights through Tom's window. "Freeze!" Max shouted, and it worked! He thought to himself, _'I always wanted to do that, now I think I know why some police like their jobs.'_ The man pulled his head through the opening of the shirt and looked with bleary eyes at Max, "Who're you?" he demanded in a scornful voice, "The cops? No you ain't a cop, you got no light."

While Max was pondering that bit of language, the man continued to pull on his shirt. Max then said, "I said freeze asshole! No, I ain't no cop; I'm the guy with the shotgun! Fucking stop moving, right fucking now!"

The man let out a sigh and soft "She-it" then stopped reaching for his pants, which lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Max started to ask a question, but Tom beat him to it, screaming, "What did you do? What did you do? What are you doing in my fucking house, you asshole!?"

The man recoiled a bit, enough for Max to see he was not wearing anything from the waist down. Good. Men without pants ought a be easier to control, right? The man gathered the covers around him and stared at Tom and Max and said, "Nothing, you ain't nothing, I got nothing to say to a couple of queer boy faggots. Go fuck 'yerselves." He then proceeded to stand up, blatantly drop the covers and stoop to get his pants on.

Max reached forward and swung the shotgun barrel at his head, "I told you not to fucking mo-"... BOOM, the sound of the shotgun going off was louder in this room than it had seemed moments before in the other bedroom. The bald man, pants half on fell over backwards clutching the side of his head and bleeding profusely. Max's face registered surprise and instinctively he reach forward to help the man up, catching himself only when he realized what he was doing. _'Oh fuck!'_ he thought, _'I just shot a man!'_

"Okay, o-fucking-kay! Goddamn it, don't shoot me again! Shit! Shit! Shit on your Jewish-fag asses!" He still struggled with one hand to pull up his pants while clutching the side of his head with the other. Max pointed the gun at him and said, in a shaky voice, "I said: Don't MOVE, you goddamn stupid fuck!" The bald man stopped moving, an awkward silence then ensued, the man continued to bleed and Max could hear the dripping of his blood onto a magazine of some sort that was on Tom's floor. "Tom, get your stuff. Now Tom."

Tom scrambled to move to his closet, opening it he pulled out a backpack and started tossing clothing onto his bed; lastly he threw on a sleeping bag. Finally when the pile was finished he lifted up the foot of the bed and fumbled around underneath it until he came up with a black backpack, with a small metal plate that had the word 'Port' written on it. The smaller backpack had a durable looking rubber grip on the top and Tom set this pack by his legs as he stuffed the larger pack with his clothing. To Max he said, "Make him tell us what happened or kill him. I gotta get some stuff outta the bathroom." Tom walked out leaving both doors open while he rummaged around in the bathroom.

Max looked at the bald man and said, "Talk. Now."

The bald man began, "Nothing much happened, I came up here looking for a place to stay, there are zombies running all over everywhere and this place looked safe enough, I bedded down he-"

Tom came back in with contact lens solution, glasses case, a toothbrush and other personal items, which he put into a pouch on the side of his pack. "Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. No way, you woulda stayed here with a zombie in the next room and a body outside in the living room. My roommate's body you asswipe."

The guy started again, "Fags. I knew it! You're goddamned fags. Just like Billy Jo and his butt-buddy there. You want the real truth queer? We busted in here to protect this place, this whole place and your butt-buddy friends told us to go to hell. See what happens when you don't want our protection? This", he waved his hands around, "happens. Dumbshits."

Tom leaned over his bed one more time, fumbling for something alongside it and came up with an aluminum baseball bat; he stood up and leaned over the bald man, saying between clenched teeth, "You did this. The zombies did not do it you lying fuck." He pulled the bat back and Max yelled, "Tom!" at the same time that gunfire erupted outside.

Chapter 27

Jimbo guided Fred towards suburbia; a car sped by as they had left the parking lot, a few minutes and a block later another car sped by in the pre-dawn light. Jimbo thought a minute, he was not really that good at thinking just yet, and it took effort and usually required that he stop moving. After figuring out that two cars went by, well maybe if that bitch Nancy and the gang were not dead, and he could feel it in his bones that she was not, they might, just might come looking for him. After all, they only went back to the building for Fred in the first place. Jimbo pushed Fred faster along the sidewalk, following it, as it became a bike path. He peeked out the other side and spotted where the path diverged into two directions, one path led towards more office buildings and stores, the other looked to run between two houses into a residential area, about a quarter mile away. Jimbo shrugged his cold shoulders and said, "I'm a little stiff this morning." Laughing a dry, husky laugh, he grabbed Fred by the hand and pulled him towards the houses as fast as he would go.

Surprisingly no four-wheel drive Suburban jumped onto the bike path to run them down, the most excitement they had was when they flushed a rabbit out of the bushes. Once they were in among the houses, Jimbo stopped to evaluate the situation. The first couple of houses had broken windows, even a corpse in the back yard. No good. He needed something still locked up. _'Kind of like a Twinkie.'_ he thought, _'If you can see the cream filling it probably means someone else has already bitten into it.'_ So, he had to find the Twinkies that were still all yellow. He scanned the houses from the back, looking, looking, yes; there were several options, almost a six-pack of them in visible range. That one, the one with all the kid toys scattered all over the yard. That meant mom and dad had a kid, more than one by the look of the place. Jimbo felt a momentary twinge of guilt, and then it passed, after all a man's gotta eat. Anyway a mom, a dad and two kids? Maybe three? Maybe they were Mormons or Catholics, four kids? Oh yes, the day could hardly get better than that, he led Fred up to the gate surrounding the house and pushed on it, it was locked. He could not get it open, _'Stupid, fucking gate!'_ he thought as he moved Fred next to the fence. He pushed Fred onto the ground, where he immediately started to get up again, but Jimbo was faster he hopped onto the other zombie's back and tilted himself over the fence. Then he turned and opened the gate and grabbed Fred who had gotten to his feet again.

Pulling the gate shut, he latched it, no need to make it easier for anyone else after all. He led Fred up to the back patio door and tried to open it. It was locked. This delighted him. Locked doors met someone had locked them. He looked around and saw a flat cinder style block under the water faucet near the house. Fred was wandering the back yard and Jimbo reflected that it was good that he had latched the gate after all. He reached the faucet and pulled up the stone, then brought it back to the patio door where he threw the rock through the window. Then he reached through the glass to unlock the door. In he went, the glass crutching under his reliable old work boots. He heard movement upstairs and smiled, the Twinkie had not been bitten into by anyone else...

Chapter 28

Nancy and the girls circled the business park in the van several times and found no sign of Fred or Jimbo. Nancy was becoming increasingly irritated at their lack of results and was not paying attention when they turned a corner a little too sharply and hit the corner of a purple-ish Hyundai, which seemed to be parked in the middle of the street. The van lurched sideways and over the rear bumper of the smaller car before righting itself and barreling into another car near the median of the road. Nancy took a hard punch to the chest as she slammed into the steering wheel; the other girls were pulled forward into their seat belts before the van stopped completely.

"Fuck. Yeah, fuck. Well it was not that much faster anyway, all these dumb fucking cars everywhere. I mean did all the zombies decide, 'Hey lets go grab the people in cars'? Dummies. Out girls I need protein now and V is still looking famished, lets head for the houses over there and see what we can find."

The gang stumbled out of the van and into the suburban neighborhood where Nancy was happy to see the power was still on. As they stood at the end of a driveway the garage door started opening, not one to waste an opportunity, Nancy motioned to Trish and Julie to get into the garage while she and V moved sideways off the driveway. The opening door was stopped as Trish scampered under the door and broke the connection between the electric eyes designed to prevent the door from squishing small children, pets and do it yourself garage door hangers.

"Oh good God Trish, that was a brilliant move!" she whispered, "C'mon V, we gotta get in there and help if we need to."

They moved up, following Julie under the door, which was stopped about two feet off the ground. Trish had a passenger side door open and was pulling a screaming woman out of the car by her hair, a man in the car had a handgun and as they watched he pulled the trigger several times, hitting the woman and Trish, nothing fatal for Trish and Nancy hoped the same could be said for the woman. There were two kids, in car seats strapped in the back were screaming, "Mommy! Mommy! Mommeeeeeeiiiiiiii!" Nancy approached the driver's side door and wretched it open and surprisingly it was not locked. She lurched in and grabbed the man's arm just below the elbow, then brought it forward into the steering wheel hard enough to shatter his wrist. The man punched her in the face, hard. Nancy staggered back, but, as always V had her back and stepped in and clocked the man with a punch of her own, sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Nancy got up and told Trish, "Finish that bitch Trish, all the way, no keepsies, share her with Julie." Turning to Veronica, she said, "Well V, it is your lucky day, I get him, you get the kids, okay dear?" Grunting with effort, she pulled the man out of the Subaru and lowered him onto the ground, where to start?

She started on one arm, the non-broken one, the man regained enough consciousness to start to struggle again, and when he eyes took in the scene of his garage he almost got away. However, when the first of his children stopped screaming "Mommy!" the fight went right out of him and Nancy was able to enjoy her meal more. She made sure to tell V not to make any zombie babies either, before she drank in the last essence of the man she had. She gorged herself on him and the other were done long before she was, she stood up and looked at her posse, once again all restored to almost full health and beauty marred only by their distended bellies. Veronica looked sullen and pouty.

"What? Out with it V."

"That was fucked up, eating kids; I mean, now I am a fucking monster!"

"You didn't have to eat them; you could have gone without, your choice. Don't get all moral on me now missy, in for a penny, in for a pound."

"Stop that, stop it. These could have been OUR kids! You have kids? I don't. Julie? Trish? None of us?" Veronica let out a sharp, ironic laugh, "What a bunch we make, designed to give life only to be the ones who end it even for the smallest child."

The three other women did not share Veronica's viewpoint, that much was obvious from the way they were looking at her. Veronica could see any more comments would be more nails in her coffin and said bitterly, "Alright, I can see I am not going to win anything with any of you. I give in, but I don't want to eat any more kids or babies." Turning towards Nancy, "Is that okay with you?"

Nancy weighed the options a bit, she knew she could still reasonably force Veronica to do whatever she wanted, but she would rather have her as a willing partner than an unwilling one, so she said, "V, you are right. I am sorry and I will not force you to do that again. I will not force you to eat anyone you do not want to eat. You know we cannot let them go though, right? I mean if we come across more families and the choice is to kill them or leave the kids alive, we will kill them all, right?"

Veronica nodded sadly, "Yeah I know, I know. I get it: them or us. What will we do when the food runs out Nancy?"

Nancy looked sagely around at her group, "Well I don't know. I don't really feel all that hungry right now. I think I could control myself if we found humans around here somewhere. We could control them and pen them in for later consumption maybe, raise them for food? I have not thought that far ahead, but Veronica you are going to force me to think further than our next meal aren't you? I tell you what, let's hole up here and see how long it takes us to get hungry again then decide what to do. Trish, Julie as junior members of the posse you guys have to clean up, roll the remains into the driveway and close the garage door, that way any other smart zombies will know this house was already taken. The dumb ones we can handle ourselves."

The girls did as Nancy said while Veronica turned off the car and pulled the keys out of the ignition. Nancy went into the house and wandered around a bit, then noticed she was dripping blood everywhere and headed back to the kitchen, where she washed off as best she could. She held up each girl as they came into the house and made them strip off their soiled clothing and clean up a little before making more of a mess in the house. She then told them to get their things into the wash, take showers and get cleaned up. While they were exploring the upstairs and getting in line for showers, Nancy started a load of wash on Cold, using the fine array of stain removers to work on the stains. Probably they could make do with the clothing the woman had left them, or one of her neighbors could provide a suitable garment, but just in case, she ran the load anyway. As Veronica had said, 'what would they do with the food ran out?' And that went for clothing too, what would they do when all the clothing they could find was blood stained? Go nude? While a good distraction, clothing provided some protection and in fact, some warmth, Nancy was cold, always cold now. It was a strange feeling, almost more than human really, starting the stove she rubbed against the electric burner until it became too hot for her to touch it. After the burner heated to a glowing cherry red, she forced herself to touch it with her left pinkie finger. It burned. It burned and hurt, but she forced herself to continue holding her hand against the burner. The smell of sizzling meat filled the air.

Veronica, coming downstairs in a white fluffy towel, called out, "Hmm, that almost smells good! What are you doing? Seeing if we can eat old style food?" She stopped as she observed Nancy holding her finger against the burner. "What..."

Nancy gestured with her right hand sharply, cutting her off. Both women watched as Nancy's finger blistered and blackened over the heat of the burner, with more burn appearing on other parts of Nancy's hands. Sweat was running out of the pours in Nancy's face, dripping onto the stove in wet, slightly pink drops. Finally, Nancy pulled her hand back and held it up between her and Veronica. As they watched, the flesh on her finger grew pink and the splits in the skin sealed over. A blackened fragment of charred flesh fell to the floor and as the smoke alarm started to go off they continued to watch Nancy's hand repair itself. In three minutes, you would not have known anything had happened, except for the smoke in the air and the blacked bit of skin that had fallen off as Nancy's wounds had healed. Both women stared past Nancy's hand at each other, their eyes locking. Finally, Nancy dropped it, the smoke alarm stopped chirping and she said, "I had to know Veronica, I had to know. My scars are gone, from my appendicitis when I was sixteen. I had that scar all my life. And it disappeared sometime since I became," she waved her hand up and down along her body, "this. What are we now?"

Veronica took Nancy's hand and held it, examining it closely then looked back into the other woman's eyes and said, "I don't know. I just don't know Nancy."

Chapter 29

Tom lowered the bat instead of swinging it. "Who is firing down there?" He demanded of the half-naked, bald man.

"Probably Joe and the boys, and I gotta tell 'ya not a moment too soon too. You are both dead, you know that right? Fagot Jews with one shotgun between 'ya, my boys have my back and they got more than one shotgun. We have REAL weapons; you might as well shoot yourselves now and save us some bullets."

Tom looked at Max, and then turned back to the bald headed man, "How many are there?"

The man said nothing. Tom poked him in the testicles with the end of the bat and shouted, "How many?" The bald man fell half onto the bed before tumbling to the floor.

"Oooh!" groaned the man, clutching his groin with both hands and smearing blood from his head wound everywhere, "Thirty, alright, thirty brothers to kill your butt fucking asses."

"Thanks." said Tom. He turned as if to exit, Max backed up with him, then Tom turned around and lurched towards the man on the floor, hitting him repeatedly about the head and shoulders with the bat, screaming, "This is for my roommates you fuck!"

The shots continued outside and were joined by the sound of a horn honking urgently.

"Tom, Tom! We ain't got time for this man; we gotta get out of here. Tom! C'mon!" Max said as he pulled Tom out of the room, away from the bald man who was probably dead. Max turned Tom around, gestured towards his stuff and pushed him towards it. Tom gathered it up, slinging the big pack over his back and onto both shoulders, grabbing the smaller bag in one hand and keeping the baseball bat in the other. He went out the door into the hall and turned into the bathroom, instead of into the living room, a move that may have saved his life.

A bullet cracked out, whistling down the hallway and into the hollow core door of the bathroom. Max, half out of the bedroom door, ducked down and let off a shot towards the flash of light he had seen in the kitchen. Loud screaming was his reward, followed by the sounds of one, or maybe two guns, with bullets hitting the walls and piercing through them into Tom's bedroom. Max was not nearly as shielded as he would have liked, the drywall did not seem to be stopping the bullets at all. Tom's bat lay in the hallway and Max could see enough of the bathroom to know that Tom had probably pulled himself into the tub, meaning he was alive, but was he wounded?

The fusillade stopped and Max remained very, very quiet. A voice shouted out over the moaning in the kitchen, "Throw out 'yer weapons and we won't kill you! Do it now!"

Max remained deadly quiet, the shotgun still pointed towards the door, somehow, during the firing he had gone from standing up, to crouching, to lying prone on the floor. A minute later, he heard voices in the living room softly talking amongst them; unfortunately, Max could not hear what they said due to the crying man in the kitchen.

Then he heard movement and the crying in the kitchen got worse, and then the screaming receded towards the front door, Max thought now would be a great time to take some sort of action, as he was sure anyone in the living room would be watching the screaming guy being pulled out of the front door.

He regained his feet, in a crouch moved fast and low towards the living room. He saw three men at the front door, one was carrying the man Max had wounded in the kitchen, and the other was at an extreme disadvantage as he had picked that moment to assist his friends out the door, leaving no one to watch the hallway. Max leveled the shotgun and fired on that man, then switched targets and fired at the other man, who was fumbling for his weapon, while his screaming friend grappled with him. Both men went down and the screaming mercifully stopped too. Max reloaded the shotgun.

"Tom, you okay? Tom?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I am okay, I am fine." Tom emerged from the bathroom, a towel in his hand, which he was using to wipe off the blood that had splattered on him when he was hitting the man in his bedroom with the bat.

Tom stopped in the living room, "Holy shit, you killed them all!"

Max just looked at Tom, his look saying, _'And just why are you wiping blood off your face mister?'_ Tom shrugged sheepishly, then said, "Oh shit you are bleeding!" while raising his hand to point at Max's stomach.

Max shook his head incredulously, "No. No, seriously I am okay! This must be from one of them."

However, when he looked down his shirt was matted in blood and it was dripping onto the wood floor of Tom's hallway. He immediately fell to his knees, dropping the gun while pulling up his shirt and babbling, "No, no, no!"

Tom ran forward and grabbed, not Max, but the gun pointing it towards the door, the firing outside had dwindled to a random shot now and again, the car horn was still blaring, though it sounded more distant.

"How bad is it Max? How bad?"

"Fucking bad Tom, very bad!" Max had pulled his shirt off revealing a mass of bloody tissue across the front of his stomach, blood was pouring out of it between Max's fingers.

Tom threw the towel to Max and said, "Can you walk? You were walking, can you walk some more?"

Max picked up the towel, his first instinct was not to mix blood with blood, the old AIDS and Hepatitis fears welling up inside of him, then he figured bleeding to death took precedent and pushed the wadded up towel contaminated with the bald man's blood to his stomach. It hurt now, like a fire across his stomach. Still he knew he had to move, to get up, and to leave. Tom was not going to fireman carry him out of here, in full clothing, completely wet Tom maybe weighed one hundred sixty pounds, whereas Max was a good two hundred, no way Tom could carry him, at least not for long anyway. Besides Max had gotten up from the bedroom floor, and had walked into the living room and had shot the three people...oh, the realization of what he had done just snapped to the forefront of his mind. He had killed three men. Not zombies, not former men, three living humans. He leaned over on his hands and knees and vomited on the floor.

"Max! Oh man, Max, are you gonna make it? You gotta make it man! Get up! Get up!"

"No Tom, it ain't that, it is..." Max regained his knees, sat back on his legs and gestured towards the three unmoving men near the front door.

"Fuck. You had me worried there get up. Can you walk?"

"Yeah, yeah, nag, nag, nag. I am going." Max slowly regain his feet and steadied himself on the counter. "Get their guns Tom; we might as well bring Stewart and Steve a present or two, eh? I will take this guy's pistol from the kitchen." The pistol was actually a revolver, Max was not intimately familiar with revolvers, but after a moment's thought he managed to break it open and take out the rounds, he had three remaining. Checking the first wounded guys pockets he came up with a black belt. _'Christ!'_ He thought, _'No wonder the guy carrying was so damn slow.'_ The black leather belt with fringes had two pouches, which fell off when Max took the belt off, and continued taking it off, it must have been around ninety inches around, the screamer had been a very fat man. Max grabbed the two pouches, strung them back onto the belt, opened one and found loose rounds. In the other, he found four round disks that extended into the depths of the pouch pulling one out Max could see each cylinder held six bullets, he pressed the back tip of the cylinder, which looked like a button, and all the bullets fell out. "Shit." Bending over he gathered up the bullets with one hand and figured out how they went back onto the cylinder. It did not take a genius to figure out that when you used all your bullets you dumped the empty ones out and used this cylinder to quick load the gun. Max tucked the cylinder back away, reloaded the revolver from the other pouch and then slung the belt over his shoulder, bandoleer style; he tightened it until it was snug. He then went into the hallway and pulled up the linen closet and grabbed the largest towel he could see, he used both hands to slowly peel his current bandage back and then secured the fresh one around his middle, tucking the ends in as good as he could. He was ready to go.

Meanwhile Tom had gathered two pistols off the other men and had a few boxes of ammo for each weapon, he tucked one into his backpack's drink holder and handed the smaller one to Max, "A back up weapon." Max took it and slipped it into his pocket without a word. The honking car was a block or two away, there were no more shots from within the apartment complex.

"I figure I know this place and the area pretty good, we can go down the stairs and instead of going towards the parking lot, duck back over the railing on the opposite side, coming out towards the street side, I see the kids around here to it all the time. Then we head towards the honking and try to keep things between the building and us. Are you ready?" Max nodded yes and they headed cautiously out the front door.

Chapter 30

Getting on the highway had been a bad idea. Merging onto the road it had looked clear, but all too soon the entire road was blocked in a major pile up. Worse Amelia was afraid to turn the car around and go back; a half mile earlier, they had spotted a car that had hit another one heading the opposite direction. Someone had obviously encountered the same wreck, then turned around, and hit somebody else coming this direction. Amelia had not survived the horror of MAC CO. to die in a traffic accident.

"I gotta know something." Diane said suddenly into the silence between them, "I always wondered, and it is not any of my business, but were you sleeping with him?"

"What?" Amelia was flabbergasted, here they were, on the run from zombies, the world crashing around their ears and Diane wanted to know if she was sleeping with her boss? Kirkpatrick? She let out an ironic laugh, "No." more laughter, "No! Did you ever meet his wife?"

Diane just looked at her, as if realizing she had not quite thought of all the parts in the equation, before she smiled and shook her head, "Sorry. Yeah, I should have considered that, his wife was there a lot and you and she got along pretty well. Were you sleeping with his wife?" This last was said in jest, but it shocked Amelia, her mouth made a small 'o' and then she started laughing, as did Diane.

"Oh, no, oh no! That is so wrong. I mean no! You are not a very nice lady!"

"Well, dear, you know the rumors were all over the place, you had gone on several trips with him and were very attentive to him, very respectful. And he treated you, well, now that I think about it; he treated you like a daughter, not a lover. I am sorry. I really should have put a stop to the talk ages ago. Maybe I lived this long just to apologize. Can you forgive me?"

"If it were even a normal day I suppose I could, but as you are the only human I currently know, and we are in your car, I will say I wholeheartedly forgive you. Just don't make any passes at me, okay?"

It was Diane's turn to be surprised and after another fit of the giggles, the two went back to looking at the wreckage in front of them.

"I think you could get by on the right shoulder, you might scrape the paint, but who the hell cares?" said Diane.

Amelia looked to the right, not at all certain of Diane's assessment. She backed the car up and then slowly pulled it forward towards the gap near the very far edge of the freeway. The highways tended to be either above the surrounding communities or down below them, either way, they always had very stout metal railings behind which were six to twelve foot high metal wall to help reduce sound to the surrounding communities. When Amelia pulled up to the gap in the wreckage she thought Diane was right, the wreck was about three cars deep and looked clear after that. There was no movement anyway. She eased the car forward, the Cadillac purred along, like a jungle cat getting ready to pounce. They made it through the gap touching only once, the car barely brushed against a mirror on one of the upright cars, causing it to bend outwards and remain at an odd angle after they passed.

There were bodies in the wrecks too, some of them were not dead, Amelia was not certain, but some looked undead too, trapped in the confines of the wreck unable to sate their appetites or free themselves. Amelia shuddered and made the sign of the cross, her ancient Catholic upbringing coming to the surface of her thoughts in a spurt of religiosity she had not felt since junior high. She did not even consider stopping to help those still living in their metal tombs.

Once beyond the first wreck they made another mile or perhaps a mile and a half towards the interstate seventy exchanges before they were again slowed by wreckage. This one had brought down the railing between the eight lanes of highway and Amelia floored the caddy and hopped over the fencing onto the other lanes. Beyond the wreck there was no way back to the 'right' way until the next exit, she went down the 'on' ramp traveled under the highway to the correct 'on' ramp and continued her journey.

"Should I just go through town, you think?" she asked Diane.

"Really dear it is up to you, I did not want to leave Mac CO. at all, you know that, but we had to and now I am just not sure where to go or how to get there. I think the highways will be faster, maybe take highway six - west and then get back on interstate seventy - east and loop around?"

"We-ell, I dunno. Highway 6 has all those low spots; if there is a wreck there, we won't have any chance of getting by. Of course, if there is a wreck on this highway we probably won't get by either. I think we need to be prepared to walk at some point."

"No, never that, we can't, they are out there."

"Diane, a good wreck and we are done, you know that, the gas will only last so long and I will drive us as long as we can, but we might not make it through even then. You know side streets might be better, if we have to we can always drive up on the lawns or go down a block, we might make it that way."

"Well let's get up to highway six and see how it is, west is west, right? If we can make it a couple miles west, we could back track onto other roads and get through. I bet seventy and twenty are totally snarled up."

Amelia bit her lip and looked pensive, "Okay, I think that will work, we could take six to Wadsworth or Kipling and then use side streets to get around any accidents. I hope there are no wrecks on any bridges. This is no good Diane; we have no way of knowing which way to go."

Diane reached out and turned on the radio, setting it on 'scan', it stopped a couple times on 'canned' stations before stopping on a news channel where a DJ was taking calls. The caller was sobbing hysterically, demanding to know - what to do, what to do? He hung up on her after a couple of moments, the next call was a man preaching God and hellfire, stating the end of the world had come and all sinners must repent now that judgment was at hand. He too was cut off in mid spiel. The next caller was a woman who was calming asking what she should do, she and her kids were hiding in their house and had seen several zombies wandering the streets outside, she did not have any weapons and did not think her house could stand up to a serious assault by anyone. Her husband had taken the car to work and she had no transportation, anyway where would she go?

The DJ responded calmly and said that she might consider opening her doors slightly, maybe making it appear that the house had already been broken into, there were reports that that tactic had saved more than one person before. Then she should take her kids and herself into the attic with as much food and water as she should carry, in fact get the attic squared away first, then ransack the house a bit before hiding. His further advice was just to wait, he was sure the military or National Guard would be on the scene soon.

After that call, he gave the station identification, the phone number and said that he would take callers with serious questions. He could not accept calls from end of the world zealots, or hysterical people, he was taking calls straight from the phone lines as he was not really a DJ, the real one was currently sleeping, and the other people at the station were trying to secure the building as best they could.

Diane had her cell phone out and was dialing the stations number repeatedly trying to get through as Amelia crept her car along towards the number six exit.

After about forty-five minutes, she finally got through. Amelia saw Diane go from a frantic, scared older woman into the dominatrix of steel that she remembered in her few dealings with her at Mac CO.

"This is WWEB, you're on caller," said the DJ.

"Yes, hi, I am in a car heading down interstate twenty five north, we need to know if interstate seventy west or highway six are clear and how to get through town to Arvada. I can report that there are several major accidents on interstate twenty-five, but no people or zombies up on the highway. The accidents block the northbound highway near exit one ninety-nine and almost fully block it near the Hampden Avenue exit. Can anyone give us advice on where to go?"

The DJ paused for a moment, then said, "Okay, ladies and gentleman we have a woman in need of assistance, has anyone been out on the highways since yesterday evening? If so, how are they? On the other hand, has anyone gotten through from south Denver to Arvada? How did you do it? Anything else caller?"

"The zombies are not all slow and shambling like one of your last callers said, they can be very quick and strong too, we ran into one at the Mac CO. building where we were holed up for quite a few hours. The zombies, I think they gain strength from eating...eating us, then they move quicker. I have seen this with my own eyes. And they can talk, so be wary of everyone, some might pretend to be 'alive' to get close enough to you to attack."

"Oh-kay caller," the DJ sounded dubious, "The information is out there people, watch out for talking, fast moving zombies. Good information or bad? Call in with road advice and your opinion on the zombie's speed and voice capabilities."

The phone clicked and the DJ went off the air, but remained on Diane's cell phone, "What do you mean they can talk? Like they could call me on the phone? Are you serious?"

Diane replied, "Yeah, deadly serious, the one we met refrained from eating us right away, she had some sort of 'gang' going and wanted certain members of the gang to eat us. She was also speaking to one of our co-workers through the door, they had a gun, but thought we were all dead, so apparently did not want to risk fighting this...woman for no gain. She spoke to us and to him, told him we were all dead, she lied to him."

"Shit."

"What?" asked Diane.

"Double - shit. People have been calling, a few mobile types, like you. They had nowhere else to go."

"What do you mean?"

"I gave them directions on how to get here," he whispered.

"You gotta get out of there! You don't know who you were talking to; you need to get out now. How long ago was it?"

"I gotta go." The phone went dead and music came on the radio, the DJ promised to return after a brief moment to refresh his cup of coffee.

Diane held her phone away from her face and stared at it a moment, then looked at the radio. The canned music continued to play.

Chapter 31

Jimbo felt the tug on his will growing as Fred fed on the mother they had found defending her three kids. No father was present and there was a minivan in the garage, along with an empty space where another car would have been parked. Jimbo had taken the first kid they found without a thought, a twelve or thirteen-year-old brat with a baseball bat. He had slammed the kid down, driving his arm through the bat into the kid's shoulder, knocking him to the ground, leaving him broken, but alive for Fred. Next had come the mother, not much more of a challenge, she too had a baseball bat, a shorter one, like for little league. Jimbo smacked her in the face, stunning or knocking her unconscious, once he was sure she was down, he turned to make sure Fred was gnawing on the 'hero' while he turned towards the other kids, a younger girl and her older brother, who was probably ten or eleven, who knew with kids? Not having any, kids of his own Jimbo could only guess at their ages. Both brats were screaming and Jimbo knocked their heads together in a comical way he had seen on a classic episode of the Three Stooges at some point in his life. That is when they started screaming in earnest. _'I thought it was supposed to knock them out?'_ , grimacing he backhanded the little girl, who rolled over and crawled under the bed, he took the boy and bit deep into his young, fleshy neck, enjoying the hot, spurting blood that filled his mouth.

When it was over and his appetite was sated, the girl was hiding under the bed, the mother unconscious and Fred was finishing up the first kid. Jimbo looked at the boy in his arms, undamaged except for a ripped out throat. He knew, instinctively, that he could gain more energy from consuming the flesh of his foe, but he also knew that if he stopped eating now the body would reanimated under his direct control. Sure Nancy and maybe even Fred would have some ability to boss around Jimbo's creations, but ultimately he thought they would serve him first.

Jimbo waited until the kid started to revive, and then pushed the savage zombie beast towards his former mother. The kid started in on her feet and Fred, done with the first one, started in on the other end. Disgusting. Jimbo was feeling much, much stronger. _'It is in the blood.'_ He thought, _'Whatever makes us come back is in the blood, it gives us life now.'_ He made sure the mother was eaten, and damaged enough to not revive, same with the older kid. Then he turned towards the bed. The girl had to be younger, six, maybe seven. Not too strong, probably less upkeep, but hey, Jimbo could not make everyone into zombies.

Once the mother was finished, Jimbo grabbed the boy, who was still half-wild and together, they flipped the bed over and grabbed his paralyzed sister. Fred tried to butt in on this treat, but Jimbo backhanded him. Then Fred concentrated and Jimbo could feel the 'pull' urging him to get the fuck out of Fred's way. Jimbo squared his shoulders and spoke to Fred, "Not. Yet. We will get you up and running, but give this one to the kid and I, so I can get stronger, like you mister 'kid and half a mom eater', and so the kid can at least get as strong as you are. As a team, we are better off having the same amount of power than having one super strong member. I won't be a Nancy on you and won't have you pulling that shit on me either. I rescued you man, so back off this time."

With apparent reluctance, Jimbo felt the pressure compelling him diminish and he turned for his half of the little girl. The boy had drained most of her blood from her throat and Jimbo ended up sitting down to a larger meal than he had anticipated, eating quite a few of the girls internal organs, he had not wanted to really, just felt doing so would give him the most 'bang' for his eating experience. By the time he was through the boy was sobbing _. 'Fuck'_ , thought Jimbo, _'Now I gotta counsel the little brat through this shit?'_

"Hey, cut it out." Jimbo concentrated and tried to get the kid to stop crying mentally, it worked. The boy's mind was almost like a path inside of his head and if Jimbo concentrated, he could see where the rows of faint light went, which must be the kid's thoughts, and slowly he could divert them. He was lost in thought over this and become so involved with the process of sorting through the kid's mind that he lost track of time. By the time, he came back to reality he had made the kid forget that his first victims were his former family members, and set the boy up so that when they left the house, he would think they had eaten the creepy neighbor man and his bully son that the boy had feared for years instead. The boy was almost happy by the time Jimbo left his mind. Fred watched everything from the edge of the room while he gnawed on one of the mother's legs. He looked much better and Jimbo focused his attention on Fred's mind briefly. There was resistance there, but he could get through enough to see that Fred was doing some serious thinking about trying to control Jimbo or trying to work with him. Jimbo tried to subtly nudge Fred into the 'work with Jimbo' and 'Jimbo is my savior' mode of thinking. He thought he was successful but it was so much harder than he imagined it would be.

As a brief afterthought, he tried to turn his mind's eye inward to examine his own brain. There it was, exposed for the world to see _. 'Fuck'_ , he thought, _'what to do about this? I can't be running around all open to everyone.'_ He thought about it for a minute then came up with an analogy, clear cloudless day was what he was seeing in his own head, what he needed was a cloudy downpour or better a heavy fog, so others could not see his thoughts at all. Going with the weather theme, he concentrated and slowly saw his mind fog up until he was looking at a storm cloud, with internal eye instead of a clear sunny day. The cloud surrounded his head, obscuring all his 'running lights' from view. Better still, he was pretty sure if anyone tried to play 'Moses' and part the water vapor protecting his mind, he would know about it. Would it hold against Nancy? He did not know but he suspected it would hold against Fred. One thing for certain his manipulations had left him hungry again, unusually so, he wanted more food.

"Well Fred, what have you decided? Are we a team or are you going to try to be my master? We are once removed, one of the zombies you created, a real bitch by the name of Nancy, wanted you dead, I saved you and brought you up to strength. You can probably figure out why, I didn't like following Nancy's orders. I am pretty sure she can find us if she concentrates hard enough and I would like to have you there to protect me from her when she shows up, waddya say?"

Jimbo knew his manipulations had worked before Fred even answered, almost without thinking he could see how Fred was thinking. He had done it.

"I think I would rather work with you than have to watch my back all the time. Besides I remember Nancy, she was a fake bitch in real life, a hollow core, a true salesma-woman. I never liked her, but she did her job. What did you do to your head and the boy's and to me?" asked Fred.

"Well, Bobby, he was getting all sobbed up about eating his mom and all, I can't stand whiny crybabies, so I have fixed him to think this ain't his mom, right Bobby?"

"What?" came Bobby's reply, "This is Mr. Thompson's house. His kid had an Xbox 360 and they would never let us play it. Thompson was mean, he yelled at me and I am glad he is dead." Bobby's eyes were glazed and unfocused.

"See?" asked Jimbo.

"And me?"

"Well you were trying to make a decision and snapping to judgments, I just, kinda told you to weigh your options. Nothing else. I honestly can't do anything to you, that took all my efforts and left me starving, I think it is because you are like, my creator's creator or something," replied Jimbo.

"Ah. I see. What about you? One minute I thought I could almost see or hear your thoughts now I can't see anything. How did you do that?" asked Fred.

"Well, 'er, I kinda thought, you know if maybe Nancy showed up, I would try and make it harder for her to get inside my head. I think I can teach you how to do it too." In his mind, Jimbo was thinking furiously, and then a thought came to him. Backdoors. Like in all those computer hacker movies, maybe he could set up a backdoor in Fred's defenses to give him a chance if Fred and his relationship went south.

"Right now though, I am hungry. What I did takes a lot of energy, and I will teach you how as soon as we get more meat, you guys game?"

"Yes, I could use it, I think Bobby is okay." Fred drawled.

"I ain't hungry no more. But I will stay with you, okay?" said Bobby

"Bobby my boy I would not have it any other way." As the three left the house Jimbo was thinking of rainbows.

Chapter 32

Standing in the kitchen staring at her hand Nancy and Veronica were interrupted by Trish and Julie coming down the stairs together. The girls stopped, realizing that something major had happened, and then Julie ventured, "What is with the smoke and smell?"

"Well Julie, I am so glad you asked," Replied Nancy, "I was curious to see just how well we could mend and ran a little test with the oven. This..." She held up her hand, "is my hand, five minutes ago my smallest finger was a blackened, blistered claw, now, and it is fully functional, without even scar tissue to impede its movement. What do you think of that?"

"Um, it is good, right. Good?"

"Yeah Julie it is good. I feel immortal, I think with enough humans in me, us, we will be immortal. Are you girls hungry? I could use a bite, but would rather wait for a few hours if you can handle it." Somehow, Nancy knew they were mostly full and would not resent waiting either. This was something she needed to sit down and explore with them too. How secure was her hold over them and how, exactly did it work? Time would tell, right now they needed to get through the next few days, find a few more people to eat, maybe make a couple more girls to go along with them. Replace Jimbo? Hmm, worth thinking about - he did have more mass and muscle then the rest of them. Oh and track down that lucky fucker Fred too. She would find him it was inevitable.

Chapter 33

Max thought, _'Hey this ain't too bad.'_ for a gut shot man walking down the stairs of the apartment building he was doing okay, and then came the shooting. A bullet winged off the metal support pole near Max's head and sent him ducking to his hands and knees before he quite knew what he was doing. The pain from that maneuver was terrible, he dropped the revolver and saw it clatter down two flights of stairs past Tom, who turned and said, "Did they hit you! Did they hit you?"

"No, no, keep going, just...painful." Max replied. He pulled himself up to the rail level and slid his legs down the stairs first, it was slow, but the agony was more bearable if he kept his body in more or less a straight line, bending made everything so much worse. _'And that was bending forward.'_ thought Max, _'Stretching up would open the wound more and...'_ just thinking about it made him nauseous.

Tom had ducked down below the railing too, this left them both partially exposed on the stairs that faced the parking lot, but kept them almost hundred percent obscured at all other parts of the descent. Unfortunately a hundred percent obscured did not mean a hundred percent safe, the thin painted wood of the railing did nothing to stop the bullets from flying through, just made them more inaccurate.

"Speed Tom, you gotta go faster, I gotta go faster or they are gonna put someone at the base of the stairs where we want to drop off. Plus, they see us every time we turn towards the parking lot."

Tom just looked at Max and Max knew the slow pace was on account of his wound. Still Tom went faster and got a stairway ahead of Max. This separated the gunfire into two locations and while Max thought he was in the middle of a gunfight, the reality was that very few bullets were coming their way, just enough to make them keep their heads down and slow their progress. Max did remember to grab the revolver on his way past it, he tucked it into his pocket, figuring even if he could fire it, his hands were shaking so badly and that he probably would not hit anything anyway.

They arrived at near base of the stairs with no more than an extra hole in the front of Tom's jeans where a bullet had narrowly missed his shin. They finally made it down as far as they could safely go, onto some concrete steps facing the back of the apartment complex. The one final flight of stairs led to the ground; however, it was facing the parking lot where all of the bullets had been coming from. Between the flights of stairs, they were on and the next there was a landing where Tom intended them to go over the railing and out the 'back' way, which bordered on a creek with one of Denver's many bike paths running along it.

Tom pointed to the railing, "We gotta go over that railing, it is about a five foot drop, the kids hang and drop from it all the time, but the landing is going to be on a hill covered with gravel, probably not good footing. Stay to the right side, it will be harder for anyone to see you if you are there. Ready?"

Max nodded _'yes'_ and Tom pointed at him to indicate he should go first. As Max slowly went down the stairs feet, first he heard Tom scrambling around behind him, and then heard the explosive sound of the shotgun going off. Knowing that was his cue, he moved as quickly as he could to get over the railing, opting for the 'head first' method, instead of the much slower 'climb over, hang and drop' method. His next thought was _'Five feet? More like fifteen!'_ He hit the ground and blacked out after rolling onto his back.

Tom meanwhile fired several shots into the parking lot at moving men, he did not think he hit anyone, but they kept their heads down, which is all he wanted. He reloaded the shotgun, fired one more round and then slung the gun over his should by the strap and hopped over the fence, he did hang and drop and had to modify his trajectory when he saw Max laying on the ground below him, unmoving. He landed on the slope and rolled to one side, into the foundation of the building, then stopped on his butt, sliding to a stop on the loose gravel next to Max.

He nudged Max, who moaned and said, "C'mon Max we area almost there buddy, get moving!"

Max groaned again, "Five feet! That ain't five feet Tom!"

Tom shrugged, "Well I didn't expect you to go head first off the damn thing! Can you get up? Oh shit you're bleeding again. Better get your band aid together first." He leaned over Max and pulled the towel back around his stomach cinching it closed as Max had done before. The bleeding had not stopped, merely staunched for the moment. He was just helping Max to his feet when a voice above them shouted down, "Hold it right there boys or we will shoot!" Max and Tom stopped and slowly half turned around to look up at a man holding a rifle on them, they tentatively raised their hands and the man said, "That's right, keep 'em where I can see 'em..."

His next words were cut off by the sound of a pistol from behind Max and Tom, the man yelled as he was shot in the arm or shoulder, spinning around and falling behind the barricade. Turning back towards the creek Max saw the patrol car on the bike path behind them. Tom wasted no time helping Max down the hill and climbing in after him into the back of the car. Steve, now driving the car, took off down the bike path while Stewart turned to Max and Tom.

"How'd it go?" she asked, as if nothing unusual had happened.

Tom spat out, "I got Max fucking shot! For clothing!" turning to Max he said, "I am sorry Max! I am so sorry!" While saying so he pulled up Max's shirt to reveal the bloody towel wrapped around his stomach.

Max winced and said, "Yeah, Tom. I am sorry too man." Then thinking about it he said, "You didn't know, the same thing could happen when we get to Steve's sisters or my place, you didn't know man, you couldn't have known."

Stewart was looking at the towel then reached into the glove box and came up with a medical kit, she proceeded to pull out a pair of latex gloves (there was an entire box of them) and told Steve, "Steve, pull over and let me swap with Tom. Tom, you reload the gun and keep your eyes peeled for trouble."

After a quick stop they were on their way again. Stewart said to Steve, "You know where the state clinic is on a hundred and thirty fourth? No? Well turn right here, and then take the second left after this next light and then the first right after that, it is on the left. We'll see if docs are in. Let me take a look Max."

Max looked at Stewart and said, "I, I can't, you do it."

"Wuss. Move your hands. No, not there, move them out of the way."

Stewart peeled back the towels, knowing from her training that this is generally the wrong thing to do; you are supposed to let the band-aid work by allowing the blood to pool and seal the hole. However she had to know, if it was as bad as it looked she would not place good odds on Max surviving and from what she had heard, his death would not be a pleasant one either. She pulled the last of the towel back, starting the blood flowing again and said, "Tom, hand me that bag there in front of your feet, it has gauze in it. Thanks." She proceeded to clean up the blood so she could see the wound more clearly; there was a lot of blood. She sighed in relief at what she saw, just as they were driving slowly by the clinic.

Tom said, "Stewart! Stewart! Zombies everywhere!"

Sure enough the clinic was surrounded by a mob of thirty or so zombies, none of them looked like what Stewart would classify as 'beta' or 'alpha' zombies, those that were faster and more aware of their environment, just common 'zetas'. Zeta for classic zombie, that always brought a smile to her face. Back to the clinic situation, Steve sped the car up as he went by and several members of the mob made lumbering runs after the moving car.

"Steve, slow down a bit, and draw more of them away!" commanded Stewart.

Steve slowed, but only three of the zombies continued the pursuit. Shrugging Stewart said, "Go to the end of the block and we'll shoot these three, then circle around and try to get more of them; circle, draw them away, shoot 'em. Got it?"

Shooting the zombies was like shooting fish in a barrel. The three dropped easily and Steve circled the block and tried to draw more away, the rest of the mob was less inclined to follow this time around and several even ducked for cover among the nearby cars. This was going to be harder than Stewart thought.

"Isn't there somewhere else?" asked Steve.

"Nowhere close." replied Stewart bitterly, "Besides we know someone is still in there, otherwise why the mob?"

"So what do I do? Ram some of them? Shoot into them as we drive by?"

"No we gotta come up with something cleverer than that. Pull up at the corner of the block and let's stop and think for a minute."

Steve pulled the car to a halt at the corner and all of them looked back at the clinic, then to each other, casting guarded glances at Max when they thought he was not looking.

"Here is the thing, we have to get Max in as quick as we can, and the 'golden' hour rule still applies even in this prolonged emergency. Max, you are not going to die, it looks to me like the bullet just skimmed across the front of your abdomen and is not inside of you, but we still need to get you stitched up and probably on antibiotics or something, the doctor or nurse will know what to do. I think we could probably rush the zombies in the parking lot, I think they are smart enough to duck down for cover, but I didn't see any 'alpha' zombies no real bad guys, right?"

"So, let me get this straight, you are thinking that we should bum-rush thirty zombies to get to the front door?" asked Steve.

"I dunno Stewart there are a lot of zombies around the building..." Tom said tentatively.

"No! No bum-rushing Steve, c'mon! I mean we pull up twenty feet away and blast a bunch of them, Tom and I will sit on this side and just fire out the windows, we will drive them off and then make a break for the doors."

"We don't even know the doors are unlocked, I don't think they are, and otherwise there wouldn't be anyone inside, right? So how do we let them know we need in?" asked Steve.

"Steve, use your head, the gunfire should do that, right? Any other additions or better ideas? Max? You alright, try to stay with us here buddy, we can't have you going into shock on us okay, and you are probably going to have to walk when we get to the front doors."

"No, no ideas Stewart." said Tom, Steve just nodded and said, "Okay let's do it."

Steve pulled the car around the block yet again and then onto the other side of the street as far away from the clinic doors as they could get and still be on the street. Stewart and Tom each took careful aim and brought down a couple of the zombies, the rest turned towards them slowly and again they fired, neither was accurate enough to bring another zombie down, but both hit their targets. After a third volley and one more head shot, the rest of the zombies fled around the corner or ducked behind the cars along that side of the road.

"Shit!" swore Stewart, "This sucks. We are going to use a lot of ammo to clean this group out! Hey, Steve look at the door!"

Sure enough, a man in a rumpled shirt with a traditional doctor's coat was at the front glass doors waving frantically at them.

"I guess there are people alive in there. You're a lucky man, Max," said Steve, "Let me pull the car up and I bet you guys can get a couple more once the angle changes."

Steve pulled the car up and while they did hit a couple more zombies, they did not bring any down.

"This ain't working Stewart!" said Tom as Steve backed the car up to try to get them a different shooting angle.

"I know. I can see that, they are smarter than they looked. Hey, Steve can you back us up on the sidewalk in front of the clinic? We could get a shot or two off there; maybe get a couple of them."

Steve did this and Tom and Stewart let loose another volley of shots hitting several of the undead, but only bringing two more down. Max let out a yell when two zombies, one carrying a cinder block slammed into his side of the car, the side window, amazingly did not shatter inward, but did break into a million starred pieces. Max's yell startled Tom and as he pulled around to see what Max was yelling about - he fired a round off, shattering the heavy glass in the front door of the clinic and narrowly missing the physician's leg.

The doctor yelled something that sounded like, "Oo-oh shit you fucking douche bag!" and retreated into the clinic out of sight, several zombies made for the front door, Stewart shot them both in the head as they made no effort to dodge or hide.

Tom screamed at Steve, "Get us out of here! They are going to break through!" Max fumbled with the revolver he had picked up earlier trying to point it at the zombies outside the window.

"Ma-ax! Don't shoot through the window!" yelled Stewart, "Steve pull ahead a few feet, but don't take me out of sight of the front door, if the zombies get through there we won't have a doctor anymore!"

Steve pulled the car forward about ten feet, the zombies clambered up onto the back of the squad car, Steve reversed, catching one of them under the car and running it over, the other one started smashing at the rear window with one fist while hanging on to the antenna with the other.

In half a second everything changed, Stewart opened her side door and got a bead on the zombie riding on the trunk; she shot him once in the neck and then capped him in the head as he fell off behind the car. She was grabbed by her feet - a hand reaching out from under the cruiser. Tom screamed and hopped out of the car after her, at the same time several of the hiding zombies made a rush for both the car and the clinic door.

Chapter 34

After getting to highway-six Amelia still did not have any advice on how to precede, so she turned the caddy onto the highway hoping it would ultimately be faster. The advantage of this particular section of road was that it ran through mostly residential neighborhoods, so she could easily switch to the back streets if she needed to.

Amelia managed to drive a few miles before she spotted flashing emergency lights up ahead on the road. As she crept the car slowly closer, she saw a police car and several tow trucks, but no people, there were also several wrecked cars pulled out from the underpass and lots and lots of shotgun shells next to the police car. No bodies, no zombies, nothing to indicate exactly what had happened, but the road was clear, she hit the accelerator and scooted the car past the underpass onto another clear stretch of highway.

"Wanna try the radio station again? Call it in? Let him know six is pretty clear so far?" asked Amelia

"Sure, why not." Diane said, she had plugged her cell phone into the car for recharging and redialed the stations number again. Diane had not been expecting to get through, let alone on the second ring, the station was still playing canned music, the DJ had not been heard since their call.

"He-ello? Is this Diane?" asked a voice on the other end of the line.

Surprised, Diane responded, "Yeah, who is this? And how did you know who I was?"

"We have caller I.D., I recognized your number and name from when you called twenty-minutes ago. My assistant took your first call. This is Blake, by the way."

"Hello Blake, I am pleased to meet you. I am calling to say highway six is pretty clear, we are heading westbound okay so far since the twenty-five exit. You want to let everyone know that?"

"Ah, sure why the fuck not." came his bitter response.

"What's wrong?"

"They called me. The zombies fucking called my assistants and me whoever was operating the phones. And we gave them directions on how to get here. Sorry for swearing, but the ground floor is full of them now, you kind of saved my life you know. The rest of the gang was downstairs helping the 'refugees', I took the elevator down, we obviously still have power, the generator has not even kicked in yet. Anyway, the door opened and I saw a group of them laughing. Laughing, the bastards! They were eating the associate manager; she was my friend, Diane! My friend! And they laughed and pointed at me and said 'Thanks buddy!' then they tried rushing the doors, but I got them closed in time. I have an elevator key; I can go to the top of the tower if I want. Twelve floors up, but I came back here to the station. I mean if they get through the fire doors, they will find me no matter where I hide, right? I know the building there are not any doors stronger than the fire doors are. I locked the elevator out on my floor so they couldn't use that."

"I am glad I warned you Blake, I am glad you are alive and probably safe, but you have a lot of power and you should use it instead of just waiting for them to come in after you."

"What do you mean? This is a dead end Diane, no way out, except maybe jumping from the roof and we have those goddamn safety nets installed so I would only fall like two stories before being caught up in one, where I would probably die of thirst without anyone to retrieve me. Of course, I could make my way to the edge of the net and continue the fall too, I guess or..."

"Cut it out Blake, cut it out! You don't have to die there and even if you do, you can at least go out helping a lot of other people. I don't know you, but I know you were trying to help people before, now you can do even more good. Secure yourself first; throw chairs, desks, whatever in front of the fire doors..."

Interrupting Blake said, "No it wouldn't do anything, the doors open out and..."

"Hear me out! Put the stuff in front of the doors so you can hear them coming and get out of the station if you need to, not to stop them, just don't prop anything up against the door handle and accidentally open it or maybe the stairwells are pretty small? You might have better luck tossing a bunch of junk down the stairwell to stop them from coming up, leave one open as an escape route maybe. We did that in the building where I was held up for a while."

"Oh yeah, I can do that. We have a promotion where we go around to the local bars and have about twenty cases of glass cups we gave away as swag that would make a lot of noise if they hit it. Plus, a few desks and chairs in the stairwell, that is going to take a while though; there are five stairwells in the building, one at each corner and one near the elevators. Not a bad idea Diane, I might have even a few more. What else do you have?"

"Okay here is the important part, get back on the radio, you could ask people for help, tell them you need someone to come free you from the station and explain your situation, maybe. Regardless, you need to get back on the air and keep telling everyone what is going on, you are it man. Every other station is off the air, let people know to hit them in the head, tell them to call all their friends and spread the news that you are on the air. Get people organized, right now everyone is trying to fight back on their own and we are losing, at least from my point of view, I know that of the people I spent the night with only maybe six of the twenty of us are still alive, so you gotta get people organized and have them fight back. There is no reason why the station could not be the rallying point."

"I might even live through this. Okay I will do it, let me give you another number you can reach me at, I have the feeling this line is going to get busy really soon. Also, here is my cell number in case the power totally goes out. We have a generator, but who knows how long that will last?"

Diane took his number on a small notebook she pulled out of her glove box. Amelia admired Diane's organization skill; the last time she checked her own glove box so much stuff fell out that she had resolved to never open it again.

After Diane hung up she asked, "Well, spill it, what happened, I think I got a pretty good idea from your end of the conversation. But do you think he will make it?"

Diane went to respond when the music abruptly cut off and the DJ's voice was on the air again, "Well thanks to my good friend Diane, I am still here ladies and gentlemen. First things first, anyone I told to come to the station, and you know who you are, you had best stay away, it seems Diane's warning that some zombies can talk and act like normal humans is true and several of them fooled me and invaded the station, so it is not a safe place to be anymore. Second, tell everyone; we are on the air and to keep calling. I have to go and do a few things to help keep me safe and will be back on live very soon. I have recorded this while I am talking and will set it to repeat until I am back. Oh and if anyone from the first group has a lot of guns, I would certainly appreciate a helping hand getting out of here too. Be back soon folks!"

After a moments though Diane said, "I think he just might make it Amelia. I think he just might."

Chapter 35

Max struggled to a sitting position he felt so weak, so weak that all he could do was point his revolver at the open door and whisper to Steve, "Don't move the car, Stewart is under the car, don't move the car Steve!"

"Fuck, Max! Help her! Help her! Tom, watch out! They are coming!"

Tom was busy pulling Stewart from under the car, Max risked one shot with the revolver, hitting the zombie in the leg, and it barely seemed to phase it. Tom let go of Stewart with one hand and swung the shotgun around with the other firing into the zombies that were approaching the car. Steve pulled out the automatic pistol he had and scrambled over the seat to the open door, he fired into the zombies, bringing one down and momentarily sending the rest dodging sideways to avoid his wild fire. Tom bent back over to pull at Stewart, who was firing under the car with her gun hand and hanging on to Tom's arm with the other.

Steve ran out of ammunition the gun clicked empty and he froze. Evidently the training he had been given was shortly wiped from his mind and he sat there pulling the trigger to no effect. Max said in an almost normal voice, "Reload, Steve. Reload, Steve! Steve! Reload."

Steve scrambled to reload and while the zombies pressed their advantage, Tom's shotgun roared once more before he said, "I am out Stewart. I can't reload with one hand."

"Let me go, Tom!" she said.

"No!"

"Let me go!"

"No!" he screamed, froth spraying out of his mouth.

A zombie loomed up behind him and Max struggled to raise the revolver, his hand was shaking so bad he could not get a clear shot and the edges of his vision started to fade into black, the fatigue and blood loss were hitting him and he started to pass out. The last thing he saw was the zombie pitching forward, the last thing he heard was the sound of Steve's voice coming from somewhere well above him as if he, Max, had fallen into a deep mine shaft, "An a-r-r-o-w M-a-x! A-n. a-r-r-o" then he passed out.

Tom was pulling with both hands as the zombie loomed up behind him, he yelled, "Fire Max! I don't care if you hit me! Fire Steve!" his voice raised several octaves to an almost comical pitch.

The zombie fell forward onto the side of his body, Tom thought he was done and waited for the biting, briefly wondering how badly it was going to hurt, before he realized the thing was not moving. Looking down, he saw it had an arrow sticking out of the back of its head, in fact, another one was down and several more had arrows sticking out of their necks and shoulders. Following the flight of the arrows backward, he saw a young man and a woman standing at the edge of the parking lot amongst the heavy vegetation firing arrows into the zombies. He made himself smaller and grabbed Stewart with both hands gaining a few inches on the zombie that was trying to pull her under the car. Steve finally reloaded and fired into the remaining zombies. He saw, better than Steve, the other young men and a woman wading into the parking lot with swords, a baseball bat and even an ax! They were cutting the zombies down and they were moving to guard the front door to the clinic. As he watched one of the 'good' guys was mobbed by three zombies, the largest one, and he shrugged them off and hacked at them with his sword. He had to drop it when it become wrapped up in one of the zombies insides, he reached back to his belt and pulled out a large dagger and continued to slash and hack as he was once again bowled over. His friends were busy fighting their own battles, but were quick to come to his aid as soon as they could, getting him to his feet and putting his sword back into his hand, then pushing him towards the zombies between them and the clinic. Steve could swear they were laughing.

Once Steve had the gun reloaded he pointed it carefully at the lead zombie coming towards them, it already had an arrow sticking out of its back, but had not slowed down much, he hit it just about the left eye and it dropped quickly. Steve then rolled forward, his legs still in the car, his gun hand pointing under the car and using his other hand he supported himself and tried to get a line on the zombie that had Stewart trapped under the car. The position was awkward and he could only see the mangled thing past Stewart; it was not worth taking a shot - he might hit Stewart. Steve scrambled out of the car, paused to put another bullet into an oncoming zombie and then said, "Tom! Take the pistol! Gimme the shotgun!"

Tom let go of the gun and Steve pressed the pistol into his hand, "You have seven shots left." Steve fumbled in the pockets of Tom's coat and came out with the shotgun shells he knew were there. He reloaded the shotgun with five shells and ducked around the back of the squad car, looking for a better angle on the zombie that had a hold on Stewart. Tom fired the pistol at more approaching zombies; the rest ran back towards the cars parked on the side of the road. Steve could not see anything at the back of the car and continued around to the driver's side. He noticed Max was slumped unconscious in the back seat and saw the zombie's leg sticking out from under the tire of the car on this side. Ducking down he spotted the thing's torso, on arm was on this side of the body and was holding onto the undercarriage of the car, the other had Stewart, the zombie was trying to drag her lower leg to its mouth, but between Stewart and Tom's efforts, the leg was not getting any closer. Steve angled the gun away from the Stewart and Tom and fired one round into the back of the things head. The car gave a sudden jerk too.

"Aw shit!" he yelled, his shot, while angled away from his friends, had been angled towards the front passenger side tire, which had been shot out when he finished off the zombie.

Stewart was up, trying to walk and reload her gun at the same time, she was limping badly and had to lean on Tom for support, and he transferred her to leaning against the car and took the shotgun back from Steve after he came around the car. Taking his original gun back, Steve put in the last loaded clip he had.

"Tom you and Steve go help them out, they are just kids for Christ Sake! Leave me the empty clips Steve I will reload them. I will stay and keep an eye on Max. Go!"

Tom and Steve moved forward towards the group of four people fighting in the parking lot, the people with the bows were not firing into the mob, probably to keep from hitting their friends. They were also not moving around to get a better angle either, but staying in place. Tom and Steve had no reservations; they moved around behind several of the zombies and finished several off before they even knew what hit them.

The rest of the zombies were either hacked or batted to death by the four medieval fighters or ran off around the corner of the building, leaving the parking lot empty of all undead in a few short seconds. Tom and Steve fired after the zombies and ran to the corner to make sure they were still fleeing, not regrouping. When they returned a few moments later the squad car was sitting in front of the clinic doors. The archers were helping a younger man along between them; his legs were coated in blood. Behind them came a younger boy and girl, carrying backpacks and baseball bats.

They all formed a little group at the front of the clinic where Stewart, naturally, took charge of the situation, ordering Steve and Tom to man-handle Max into the clinic and directing the kids, teenagers really, to bring their wounded friend in as well. The rest would stay in the parking lot to keep the zombies away from the broken front door, except the smaller children, who Stewart directed to stand in the entryway to bring messages back and forth if shouting would not work.

Once Max and the wounded boy were inside Stewart turned to the youths and said, "Can any of you fire a gun?"

The oldest looking one said, "No." then thought about it and added, "Not yet." and smiled at her.

Stewart took the revolver that had been Max's out of the back seat and showed him how it worked. She sent one of the kids in to snag the black belt off Max for the extra ammo and showed him how to reload it once the bullets ran out.

"So who are you and what are you dressed up in those outfits for?" Stewart asked

"I am Michael, that's John, Craig and Whitney, the little kids are my brother Matt and Whitney's sister Lauren, the girl with the bow is Aggie, for Agnes. The guy is Ron and the wounded one is my friend and Ron's older brother Jacob."

Stewart passed along the names of the people traveling with her and prompted, "Where are you parents? And you still haven't said where you got those swords and other weapons?"

"Oh, sorry, no, the weapons are from our houses, we are really into the SCAA, fantasy stuff, like Lord of the Rings and the medieval period, you know. Our parents never came home from work, the zombies, you know, they were breaking into the houses dragging people out into the street. I figured we had better band together and last night I got almost everyone to come over to my house. Today we went and got Whitney and Lauren. No parents, they were all at work, they called at first, then nobody called and nobody answered when we called them. We decided to get out of there. We were thinking of holing up in the mall or maybe a 'club' store somewhere."

"So you didn't even really know how to use the swords or anything? You just busted out with 'em and started hacking?" Shaking her head Stewart saw some measure of almost anger in the youth's eyes before she continued, "That takes guts man, look at all of the ones you killed, that was amazing. How far have you come from home?"

"Well we live over on south Kilmore, about four miles east of here."

"Four miles! That is freaking insane! Four miles with seven of you, plus two little kids? Good job Michael. We came from the Mac CO. building in the Denver Tech Center, not too much further than you have walked. What happened to your friend?"

"Jacob? He was caught and pulled under a car just as you were, but the zombie bit him all up. We tried to pull him out, but it was too late. Ron is sick with worry, I mean we all are, you know?"

"Yeah kid, I know, sorry!" Stewart saw Michael's eyes flash with anger at the word, 'kid' and she hastily back tracked, "I mean I am old enough to be your... aunt at least, I didn't mean anything bad by it."

Michael's face softened into a slight scowl, "Yeah I know, but lady if you had seen or been through half the stuff we have, well even Matt and Lauren have had to adapt and we tried to shield them. You know, we can't though, if we do they won't stay alive, they gotta see and hear and...smell, all this stuff! There are no little kids anymore, just alive people and dead people. And undead people."

A woman in a typical nurse's uniform came to the front of the office and asked, "Is there anyone else who needs to be looked at? The doctor wants me to do the triage and get you in there in worst case order first."

Stewart looked around and said, "No I think we are all okay, other than a few bruises and scrapes."

The nurse gave Stewart a look as she was humoring a little kid, Stewart thought _, 'Now I know how Michael felt just a few seconds ago.'_ then the nurse said, "And I suppose you normally bleed from your leg? C'mon officer don't play the tough dike routine with me, you know wounds can get infected and at the very least that will need to be cleaned up," Pulling up Stewart's pants leg she revealed an ugly mass of bruised and torn flesh where the zombie had Stewart pinned beneath the car. "Probably this is going to need a stitch or two as well, it looks ugly lady. You'll have a scar, but not like your friend in there."

Stewart looked at her leg, amazed that it had not hurt before the nurse pointed it out. _'Adrenaline, it will keep you going until someone rubs your face in the fact that you should not keep going.'_

"Fuck." said Stewart, "I didn't even realize I was wounded. Okay, put me on the list and don't let Tom in there off easy either he strained his shoulder and I know our little stunt in the parking lot probably hurt him more than he would like to admit, he feels bad because he thinks he got Max shot. Any word on our friend's condition yet?"

"Darling" the nurse replied, "You ain't been here but five minutes and you want a diagnoses? My best hip shot is that everyone is going to make it, usually if they get here breathing, they leave breathing too. Things have changed though, so don't hold me to that." While she said the last bit, she was looking at Michael intently. He got the message and just nodded.

The nurse proceeded to examine everyone else, made sure the younger children were going to be inside the doors, not in the parking lot with the 'adults' and then started back inside the clinic. She took about two steps before turning and saying, "And thanks. Thank you for not letting them get us, it was just a matter of time, you know?"

Everyone mumbled embarrassed, "Sure, no problem." or "You are welcome." and the nurse turned and proceeded inside.

Chapter 36

A night had passed for Jimbo, Fred and Bobby and most of the next day as well, pickings were plentiful in this part of suburbia and Fred felt no need to rush or move on any faster than they were.

"Fred, how're 'ya feeling?" Asked Jimbo, "You all full for today and ready for some mental lessons?"

Fred and the boy gathered around Jimbo in the garage, a nice empty three-car garage, well empty now because they had pulled two cars out onto the driveway. Bobby pulled up a lawn chair and sat with the two men, who were likewise seated next to a small 'dormitory' style refrigerator. The fridge was full of beer and while Jimbo had not yet checked to see if he could still drink beer or become intoxicated, he was going to find out very soon.

"Well guys I think we need to explore the whole mind control thing a little more. It seems like magic of some sort, being able to control others with just a thought and I have to say I don't much like the idea myself. I don't want to be Nancy's puppet or, begging your pardon, even yours Fred and you seem like a pretty decent guy. So I think we owe it to ourselves to see what we can do to each other and what we can block from each other." That said Jimbo proceeded to give them a frank assessment of what he had done to both of them when he first realized he had these newfound abilities. At some point in his life Jimbo had read a story dealing with mental powers, he recalled the word psionic and liked it, so he introduced the word to Bobby and Fred, calling their new powers, psionic powers of the mind. It was as good a name as any. Jimbo had decided to come clean with Fred fully and to an extent with Bobby. After their second housebreak in, Fred had started to grow much more intelligent and made a few attempts to get through to Jimbo. He seemed to have figured out that, he was a direct predecessor of Jimbo's and realized the implications of what that meant.

After the third house, their current house, Jimbo thought Fred could break through to his mind if he gave it enough effort, so honesty was probably the best policy if he hoped to have an ally and not a master. Bobby was pretty oblivious to everything. You could make a ten year old a zombie, but not make him smarter than a ten year old. Not that Bobby was a stump or anything; he just lacked the experience his more devious partners had when it came to dealing with other people and problems. Bobby also lacked the worldview, the context of the way things worked in the past, and to him the past was going to school and playing video games. Jimbo knew that Bobby held high hopes of playing more video games in the near future too.

They played round robin for a bit with each person trying to get through the other's mind fog. After Jimbo explained how he imagined his mind obscured by clouds they both tried it and while that made it harder for Jimbo he was still pretty easily able to brush aside Bobby's defenses and could work his way into Fred's mind too, but only just. Jimbo was satisfied too, Fred was not going to get any stronger, he was sated and at his peak. That meant that Jimbo might actually outweigh Nancy in the psionics power department if push came to shove. With Fred at his side and guarding his back, he knew he could beat Nancy hands down. Unless she still had those other little young bitches around her. They all continued the mental play until dusk, when they had worked up a bit of an appetite again. Jimbo discovered that his taste for beer was still there, though it seemed to give him gas _, 'So nothing new there.'_ he thought wryly then belched loudly _. 'No real buzz either though'_ , he had drank four beers and was not feeling any sort of effect, _'Perhaps I just need more beer?'_

Bobby interrupted him from his beer revelation, "So who do we eat next, I am getting hungry again. Could we try what we practiced on other zombie-people and see what happens? What are we going to do?" Both his companions turned to look at him and Jimbo smiled, this was working out great, he always knew he had leadership potential.

"Well Bobby I am glad you asked. Here is what I was thinking, we try our mind stuff out on other zombies first, and we feed second, and then find you someone your size to hang with us. After that maybe we head over to the mall or a Best Buy and do a little shopping, I know you wanted video games, can't we get you a Game Boy or something like that?"

"And a DS! Can I have PSP too? My cousin had one, it could get on the internet and play songs with swear words in them. I want one of those."

Jimbo had no idea what the boy was talking about, so he said, "Well, let's just see what they have, okay?"

Chapter 37

It was a day later that Nancy and the girls left from the house in suburbia and it had been two days since Nancy had gone from head of marketing to her new profession, queen of the dead. In that time the area south of Denver, known as the Tech Center, had gone from an area packed with office buildings housing accountants, stockbrokers, engineers, and health care companies, to a city in chaos. Abandoned cars packed the streets like fallen dominoes. Smoke filled the air and trash freely tumbled along, pushed by the wind.

In just a few short days, the number of dead walking the streets had increased exponentially. At first, Nancy had her gang of girls destroy each and every zombie that came across their path. It soon became evident that they were fighting a losing battle. It not only drained the girls of their energy, but also for every zombie that fell another five stepped up to take its place. Their appetites were still being sated however; they had cut back on killing everyone they came across. As they fed more it felt like, they needed to eat less and could go longer between eating, as if they were getting permanently 'full'.

Nancy's original plan had been to march right back to MAC CO., find Fred and that fucker Jimbo and let the girls chop them into little pieces. However, Nancy was worried about Jimbo, he had taken off on his own and he was probably out there eating as many as he could to get stronger too. The question was - What would happen when they met? A fight was probably a good bet, however finding the fucker was going to take some time and effort. In the end she decided to put finding Fred and Jimbo, on her 'B' list of priorities, she would probably never find them. Now her plan was to take the girls out and establish an empire, if she still could; finding prey was becoming harder and harder. Nancy gave the girls orders to not to permanently kill the next three girls they each took, thereby increasing her gang size to twelve, plus her, for thirteen. After that, she might let each girl make two more zombies, when she had fifty or so she was going to wield some real power. Moreover, as for the lessening food supply, well there were still many parts of suburbia that were unexplored.

The hot July days caused everything to radiate heat, the pavement, the abandoned vehicles, the office buildings, everything was a blur of red, orange, and yellow. The burning sun also expedited the aging of their dead skin. For these reasons Nancy had opted to rest, not that the dead needed rest, during the day and hunt under the cool blanket of night.

Earlier that day they had been resting at what used to be a nightclub called 'Cool Water'. Its lack of windows and overall dark and cool motif made it a perfect place to lay low and wait for nightfall. During the day, Nancy had heard sporadic gunshots from the north. As soon as the sun set behind the Rocky Mountains, she sent Veronica and Julie to scout it out. It was not long before the two returned with good and bad news. Half a mile from the nightclub three men were occupying a Conoco gas station. The bad news was they were armed with rifles and handguns. The good news; these were weapons Nancy would really like to have, adding firearms to her super human strength was a very good plan, so the gang set out towards the gunfire.

Even before they reached the gas station, they could see bright floodlights and hear gunfire. The Conoco was located at a corner of a small strip mall. The gas station was comprised of one small building in the middle flanked on either side by four sets of gas pumps. The red and white Conoco signs lit up the evening sky. The windows and doors of the gas station were boarded up and the only movement that could be seen was on its flat roof. A parking lot filled with rambling zombies separated the gas station from the rest of the buildings.

_'Such a waste.'_ thought Nancy, _'someone needs to make zombies stop making zombies or we are going to run into a serious food shortage.'_

Nancy and her gang hid in the shadows and watched for a little while as the people, men, Nancy thought; shot the zombies milling about in the parking lot and empty streets. Veronica's report had been accurate. There were three men atop the gas station laughing and drinking beer as if they were on a camping trip in the mountains. She watched as a zombie stumbled into the parking lot attracted to the energy the men gave off like a moth to a flame.

Nancy gave the girls orders to back her up if she looked like she needed help; emphasizing her commands with a mental nudge as well, then she crept into hearing range. Surprisingly this was farther out than Nancy would have thought, so her hearing was improving too. Or the men were just loud braggarts...

"Hey Jake, who's turn is it?"

"Um, I think George's."

"Bullshit, he got the last one, the fat nurse bitch."

"Come on Tony, you've got him by over a hundred fucking points" Jake insisted.

"I still say its bullshit, fucking bullshit. You had better start writing this shit down." Tony shot back and took a long swig of beer, which ended with him tossing the empty can over the edge of the roof.

"Hey maaaan, don't get your panties in a ruffle. You'll get your turn." George said. He moved over to the edge of the roof and took aim on the approaching zombie with his hunting rifle. When he had finally lined up the shot, he paused for a long moment as though something was bothering him. The bullet sailed over the left shoulder of the zombie.

"Shit!"

"Minus five points dick hole. My turn." Tony insisted.

"Naaaw man, I get one more shot, that's the rules baby, you got to O-bide by the rules man. Not to worry, I think smoke got in my eye." George said removing hand rolled cigarette from his mouth, which he too flicked over the edge of the roof.

"I'll stick something in your eye." Tony mumbled.

"You would too. Fucker." George's second shot was true and split the zombies head in two. "Give me fifteen big ones Jake."

"Ten asshole, your first one missed." Jake corrected.

"Fuuuck, whatever man. What-eva." George grabbed a beer, returned to his lawn chair and started rolling another cigarette.

The men had several hunting rifles and handguns. When they weren't shooting zombies, they argued, drank beer and talked about bitches. Nancy watched five more zombies get disposed of in the same manner as the first. She was formulating a plan on how to get the men down from their secure perch when Veronica touched her shoulder.

Veronica sneaked up to Nancy and pointed across the parking lot, "Look," she whispered. There was a dark figure leaning against a car. "He's been there since we arrived." Even with the bright energy of the gas station illuminating, the parking lot Nancy could see that this man was void of energy. Other zombies looked dull and almost blue black in color, the living were a swirling pattern of bright energy that were easy to spot _. 'Another stupid zombie, great. Or rather maybe a more intelligent one, if he were not in the streets milling about he probably was a second tier zombie already.'_ thought Nancy.

"Yeah, thanks V, now if you don't mind we've got work to do." Another shot rang out and another zombie fell to the ground, fifteen points for Jake.

Nancy decided to wait until it was once again George's turn before she moved from her hiding place. She straightened her dress and started towards the gas station.

Nancy was surprised at how close she got to the men before Jake took notice of her. She could hear them arguing over "who had fucked the fattest chick."

"Shit George, your turn and you only get five points because she's so damn close that even your mah-ther could nail her."

"Who nailed George's mom?" Tony joked.

"Hey boys don't sh..." was all Nancy managed to get out before a bullet ripped through her left thigh. The impact knocked her backwards where she fell over a body.

Nancy screamed then yelled, "Help! I can't believe you shot me! It hurts! It hurts bad!"

"Aahh shut it. You're ugly and I don't need an ugly bitch telling me what to do. I was married to one for thirteen years." Tony called down to her.

"Heeey man, it was my turn."

Tony turned to George, "You know what? I'm getting pretty damn sick of this 'my turn' shit," and threw his nearly full can of Coors Light at him. It flew way over his head a fell to the ground below harmlessly.

"Dude, your aim sucks." George said and three men broke out in laughter.

Wiping tears from his eyes, Jake said "Awe crap man that was funny, finish her off, T."

"Hey, hold on man, she ain't a zombie, maybe we should help her?" George interrupted.

"Shit now you really remind me of my wife. 'Help her!' 'Help her!' What a dumb ass! She didn't bleed right; she had that brownish shit in her like all the others, which makes her one of them. So you are not only as ugly as my ex, but you are just as stupid as her too." Tony said before reloading his rifle.

"Fuck you asshole, I know you couldn't see anything it is too goddamn dark, you shot a woman, man, a living woman!" said George.

Tony looked through the sight on the rifle and was surprised when he couldn't locate Nancy. "Shit. Yeah, you're so smart if she was a woman where the fuck is she? She was zombie man, all the way." This got George and Jake's attention. All three men leaned over the edge of the roof craning their necks trying to spot her.

While the men had been busy laughing, Nancy used the distraction and limped her way to one of the gas pumps. The metal roof that had once protected customers from the weather while they pumped gas now hid her from the men above. She removed one of the nozzles and flipped the switch to "On". When Nancy pulled the handle, gas began spilling onto the ground. Her plan was to smoke the guys out of their hiding place and now all she needed was a light. She had searched several of the bodies without any luck when she spotted the smoke still drifting from the cigarette George had tossed from the roof.

"You guys smell that?" Jake asked.

Nancy watched as the entire gas station parking lot burst into flames. Either the beers or the hand rolled cigarettes caused George to forget about using the ladder they had up on the roof because he chose to jump rather than lowering it in his haste to get away from the flames that were spreading into the gas station below the men. He crumpled to the ground in pain when he landed, holding his left ankle. Tony and Jake, on the other hand, lowered the ladder and began climbing down.

Tony was still halfway down and Jake had only put one foot on the pavement when an explosion ripped through the gas station. The impact of the blast threw both men into the air and after a very short flight they landed hard and lay still, their bodies smoking from where their clothing had caught fire.

The intense heat from the fire made Nancy nearly blind. She could barely make out a faint form of energy crawling away from the gas station. It was George and he was trying to escape. Nancy ran after him and when she got close enough, she grabbed him by his broken ankle causing him to howl in pain.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" She tightened her grip on his leg and he screamed again.

"Two for you and one for me. It's only fair sweet cheeks."

Startled Nancy looked up to see a black figure on the other side of George - the same black figure that Veronica had pointed out to her across the parking lot. He was a large man well over six feet tall and probably pushing close to two hundred and fifty pounds. He wore black steel toe boots, dirt and oil stained jeans, and a gray mechanic style - work shirt that had the name "Dave" sewn on the left breast pocket in red letters. Nancy wondered if it was the reflection from the flames or perhaps it was his last meal that gave the tips of his long blond hair a pinkish tint.

"Fuck off, Dave." she snarled back, emphasizing his name. Nancy began pulling George by his broken ankle causing another scream to erupt from his lips. Her progress was cut short when Dave reached down and grabbed George by his wrist suspending him midair between the two of them. George let out another yell of agony.

"Come on pumpkin pie, I've had my eye on these guys for two days now, I deserve a little something for my efforts don't you think?"

Irritated she turned back to face Dave. "I don't give a crap how long you watched them. The bottom line is this: I got them down and they are mine, all three of them. You had better let go unless you want that beautiful blond head of yours split in two by her." Nancy finished pointing to Veronica who had taken her standard place at her mistress's side.

"Such violence. Don't you think we've all seen too much violence the last couple of days? Let us be civilized. We each get one and then maybe we all head off into the shadows and have some fun, just the three of us." he smiled.

"Not a chance in hell. V," Nancy gave the nod for Veronica to put an end to the discussion. She raised her blade but stopped when Dave revealed a sawed off double barrel shot gun that he had been hiding behind his right leg. The gun was now pointed at her master's head.

"I know what you are thinking pop tart, 'is it loaded?', 'can his dead fingers accurately pull the trigger while holding the meat with his right hand? Is he a lefty?' Let's not find out ok? It is a sawed off shot gun after all, I don't need to be too accurate at this range."

Nancy continued their gruesome tug-o-war for a few more seconds staring into his eyes searching for some sign of a bluff before she released her grip dropping George to the ground.

"See you soon, Dave." Nancy warned before she turned and limped away.

To Veronica Dave said, "I like her. But you and I could have so much more fun."

"It doesn't work that way. If you don't know that by now you are as stupid as you look." replied Nancy.

"How many chickas you got in your little gang? I saw what, three? Come to think about it, I might have to get me my own little harem. Sure you don't want to be my leading lady sugar plum?"

The look on Veronica's face told him her answer. Dave shrugged and walked away pulling George behind him. The back of his shirt read "Big Dave's Custom Cycles".

"So, he's a biker. I dated a biker once." she watched as he paused to blow her a kiss before he dragged George's screaming body into the night, "He was an asshole too."

Nancy and the girls gathered up the unconscious Tony and Jake, they were half burned and more than half-dead, but they made a satisfying meal for the girls as they retreated back into suburbia.

Chapter 38

Max was feeling better, he woke up in what looked like a doctor's examining room and not a very up to date or modern one at that, it had a, well, 'shabby' look about it. The magazines were months old, the walls were not really dirty so much as stained with dirt and the place had an underlying, unpleasant odor to it. The window, set high upon the wall was going gray, indicating the sun was probably going down, as the office was also hot. Max struggled to sit up and stopped immediately, his stomach hurt, he gingerly lifted the blanket covering him and saw his mid-section had a bandage wrapped completely around it, white and pristine and it looked professional. Otherwise, he was nude. _'Crap.'_ he thought, he did not see his clothing anywhere in the office. Twisting to the side to try to get himself up on one elbow was painful, but less so than attempting a sit up. An IV dangled from his left arm and he left it in. Funny in movies the first thing people do when they wake up in this situation is pull the IV out and go running around looking for trouble. Max did not feel so robust as to pull his own IV out, and running around butt naked in a world full of flesh eating zombies was about as stupid a thing that Max had ever thought of. He sat up, almost feeling like he was going to vomit, and then just sat there. He was not sure how long he remained there sitting before there was a brief knock on the door and a nurse came into the room in a brusque manner.

"Welcome back Max! You shouldn't have sat up, here get back down, no really you might tear the stitches by twisting around or being really active. My name is Beth and I understand, if I have the stories straight I have you to thank for our rescue from the hordes of zombies in the parking lot. So thanks!" With that, before Max could stop her she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It could have been more than a modest kiss, but Max backed away from it.

"Wha-what? You got the wrong guy! I passed out in the car I had very little to do with your rescue! Do you kiss all your patients?"

"Oh, no? First, no I don't 'kiss all my patients' only the cute ones who can't fight back and second, if you had not been shot your friends would never have come here and never would have saved our lives, so yes you are the cause for my liberation. Let me check these stitches okay?" Beth slowly peeled up the side of the bandage and checked underneath it, removing some stained gauze checking the stitches in the remaining natural light. "Wanna guess how many the doctor put in? C'mon take a guess."

"Ah, thirty?" ventured Max

"Oh, right on the nose! No, just kidding, he put in sixty-five. You are very lucky the bullet was really more of a graze; it had to have hit you from the side and tore across the front of your abdomen. You have a hero scar there, one to tell your grandkids about. Still it was a mess and some of the muscles were bruised and torn, it is going to be weeks or months before you are fully healed. Nope you didn't tear any stitches out by sitting up, lucky you as I know the doctor would not want to waste any more anesthesia on you, we are just a clinic not a hospital so he had to kind of 'make due' anyway. Still you came out okay. Your friends are okay, too, Tom has a sprained shoulder and Jane has a pretty badly bruised ankle. Steve came through everything without a scratch on him, the lucky bugger!"

"Jane?" Max's mind was a little foggy still.

"Yeah, 'Jane'! You call her Stewart for some damn reason."

"Her badge, 'Officer Stewart', that's all." Max shrugged and then winced in pain.

"Ooh you poor boy let me give you something for the pain real quick." Beth administered a drug into Max's IV line and within seconds, he was feeling no pain. Beth continued, "Well, the doctor is going to want to see you, he is trying to save that kid Jacob's life and not having much luck at it, but he will be along shortly. Why not sit there and rest for a while longer?"

Max drifted in and out of sleep and woke with a doctor standing over him, the window was dark and the room was lit only from the hallway. The man was older, probably near retirement and his coat was just as shabby as the office they were in.

"Max are you awake? Okay? C'mon let's sit you up here." and he assisted Max into a sitting position, "I don't recommend you do that on your own for a few days yet okay? Get help to lie down and stand up otherwise you might pull the stitches out. Here," he came up with several small boxes of what looked like medicine, "are a bunch of antibiotics, you have to take them four times a day, every six hours one tablet if you can, as close to six hours apart as you can get, okay? I know it may be a pain in the ass, but better that than an infection, I have the feeling hospitals and medical treatment have just taken a major kick to the ball sack. You feeling okay?"

Max nodded and said, "Yeah considering, I am still a little groggy though. Beth gave me pain medicine."

The doctor nodded, "Yeah, probably too much too, but you needed a nap more than you needed to be up and about. Your friends want to come in and talk to you too; they went out to the Men's store and picked you up some new clothing. I will send them in."

Steve came in first holding a bag and smiling, but looking a bit worried in Max's eyes, "You alright Max?" Max nodded _'yes'_ and Steve went on, "Look I brought you some new duds!" With that he pulled out some size forty six boxers and modeled them in front of his crotch, they were about twelve sizes, well okay at least ten sizes too big for Max but Steve went on. "See? I figure they won't rub up against your wound this way, if they are extra-large like, plus you have been packing on a few pounds since the spring, so I wanted to make sure I got something that fit you okay."

"Asshole." Max said with a grin on his face. Steve went on to describe what had happened in the rest of the melee and how they met their new friends in the parking lot. Max had only hazy memories of what had happened and appreciated being filled in on everything. Soon enough Nurse Beth was at the door to usher Steve out, Stewart limped in next and she handed Max his cell phone, no messages and it still appeared to be working.

"Your lucky day sport, we found a men's store and a phone charger for your phone." She dangled a cord in her other hand in front of him, then put the phone down beside him and the cord down on the bag of clothing Steve had left. Gingerly she took him in a quick embrace.

"I am glad you made it okay Max, I was so fucking scared man. I couldn't tell if the bullet had entered or just skimmed off. It looked like a graze to me, but I am not a doctor, in fact he was not even sure until he looked at the x-rays, no abdominal puncture you lucky son of a bitch. Plus I heard you will have a great scar to show your grandkids."

"So I've been told. I think I would rather just show my grandkids a nice scar less belly and tell them about how I was smart enough not to get shot," replied Max.

Stewart chuckled and said, "Yeah, I hear you Max, I am glad you are going to be okay."

Nurse Beth again made an appearance at the door and cleared her throat. Stewart said, "Well visiting hours are pretty short here, you need to rest until morning and Tom still wants to talk to you."

Tom came in next his arm in a sling, the first thing he said was, "Max I am so sorry! We should not have gone to my place."

"Tom, it doesn't matter. Just stop, I don't want you to feel sorry, I mean it could have been my place or Steve's or somewhere on the street, it had nothing to do with you. You didn't shoot me; it was those skinhead assholes, okay?"

"Are you serious, Max? You forgive me? That means a lot, a lot to me man. If you ever need anything I will be there for you, okay?"

"Tom, we are all going to be there for each other, which is what this trip is about, which is what everything is about now. We go get what we need and get the hell out of Denver, maybe hole up somewhere until someone comes along and sets things straight. We are like the four musketeers, all for one and one for all!"

Tom spotted the nurse out of the corner of his eye and said, "Well the nurse is pretty insistent that we don't spend too much time in here bugging you right now, so I gotta go. Thanks Max for not holding it against me!"

Max snorted, "Like I would! It was just bad luck Tom that's all. Good night."

The nurse shooed Tom off and leaving the door open, she came in and said, "Sorry Max, about earlier, I didn't mean to freak you out, you know, with the kiss. I was just so glad we had been rescued. It was very unprofessional."

Max blushed and looked away, "Ah, well that does not happen every day to me, you know? It kinda shook my image of what a nurse was supposed to be."

"Well I am a nurse and should have known better. Anyway, can you make it to the john or do you want me get you a bed pan? We do have them. Plus the doctor said you can get some underwear on and maybe a loose shirt, though he would rather you just slept the way you are for the night."

Max looked at Beth and said, "The john, definitely." He choose not to elaborate on the number two that was starting to give him urgent pangs. It didn't matter as he was too weak to sit down on the toilet himself anyway and when it came to clean up, well, he got to experience Beth's expertise there too _. 'How fucking humiliating is this?'_ he thought to himself as she cleaned him up and helped him step into a pair of normal size thirty six boxers Steve had put in the bag under the larger size he had displayed to Max earlier. He opted out of the shirt and fell into a deep sleep soon after his head hit the pillow in the examination room. While he slept, his phone had small, spasmodic fits of vibrating, once at midnight, then again at one thirty in the morning and finally at four sixteen in the morning, all made from his home phone number.

Chapter 39

"Stop here Amelia, the lights are attracting too much attention." said Diane.

"We are so close though, the Arvada exits start at Ward Road, just another few miles!"

"Deary, another few miles with every zombie in the world coming down towards us on the highway could mean we don't make it at all, pull up here. The Solar Research Lab? Hmm, a Marriott though, try that, I mean what can it hurt?"

Pulling into the exit, navigating around three wrecks that looked like they happened when the drivers were going the wrong way on the off ramp, Amelia turned left, drove across the overpass and pulled her car into the parking lot of the Marriott Hotel. Huge, the hotel was huge. Amelia drove up to the valet service area and kept on moving slightly past it, then put the car in reverse and backed it right up to the front door, stopping about five feet shy of them. She killed the engine and they looked around for any movement. Nothing. Nothing inside, nothing outside, nothing moved anywhere. The lights for the parking lot came on abruptly, creating not only pools of light across an acre of concrete, but also pools of darkness on the outer fringes. There were some lights on in the hotel too; various rooms at different levels were lit. Amelia caught a face looking out of one of the windows, a movement by a curtain and the face and light were gone.

"Did you see that?" she asked Diane, who shook her head no. "It was up there on the, one, two, third, fourth floor there, maybe, what eight rooms from the end? It looked like a person there, a living guy, not a zombie."

Diane gave her a skeptical look, but nodded, "It could still be a zombie you know."

"No, no it looked like a little kid, not a zombie; we should go up there and see."

Diane thought about it for a few seconds and said, "Yeah, yeah we should, heck we need a room anyway and I doubt there will be anyone here that can give us a key now. Are you ready to go in?"

Amelia scanned their surroundings again and then slipped out of the car, making sure to take the keys with her. Diane followed suit and when the doors were shut, Amelia used the remote to lock them. Together they moved to the main doors, pressing on them they found them locked. There were two side doors as well, one for both Amelia and Diane to try. Amelia's would not budge, but Diane pressed the handicap button and her door swung open with an automated noise. Both women went in and emerged in the lobby of the hotel. The place was dark, apparently, no one had turned on the lights and they were not automated. Using the light cast off by the parking area Amelia could see the front desk, and signs indicating the way to the restaurants, pool, hair salon, massage therapist and gift shop. She grabbed Diane's arm and pointed to the sign, indicating they should follow the sign to the gift shop.

Puzzled Diane nodded and both women set off down a dark corridor and arrived in front of the closed down gift shop. The doors were locked. Amelia looked around and spotted a bench, she said, "I am going to break the lower door window so we can get in there."

She took the bench and, trying not to flinch, shoved it hard into the lower section of glass on the door. It made a loud thumping sound, but did not break. Amelia was amazed, she had not gone all out with her push, but had expected the glass to give away easier than that. She pulled the bench back and lifted it up off the ground for a stronger push, more like a battering ram this time. The bench struck the glass with another thumping sound the glass starred, but did not give in.

"Jesus wept." She said, "How hard do I have to hit it? Diane I don't think I would make a good burglar. You better help me this time."

Diane replied, "Amelia, why are we breaking into the gift shop?" as she picked up the end of the bench.

"Flashlights, I bet they have flashlights and batteries in here, it looks like we will need them."

Together their third attempt still did not shatter the glass, but it did push the edge of one corner out of the frame and Amelia used her foot to force it down into the store so the women could crawl through. The problem was it was very, very dark. Amelia could just make out the cash register and made her way towards it, hoping for a key chain light that most places had as 'last minute' purchases situated around their cash registers. She was in luck and found an entire plastic container full of them; she pressed one and tossed another to Diane before turning and filling one of her pockets with them. Diane grabbed three or four, looking for the red ones, even switching out the blue one Amelia had given her for a red one from the canister. She caught Amelia watching her and shrugged, "I like the red ones." The women then scanned the rest of the store, there was a battery rack and on top of it, a half a dozen packs that included flashlights. Both women grabbed three, split the packages open and loaded the flashlights up.

"These are pretty good flashlights, very bright." said Amelia.

"Yeah you cannot beat these new LED bulbs, they are hard to break and last forever. I got my husband a wind up one; it was a piece of junk. Oh sure it was bright while you were cranking the thing, but once you stopped it dimmed down pretty quickly. Still no batteries required." As she was saying this, she was scanning the store with her light looking around. There were no other doors to the place, no stock room, no bathroom, but there was a sink near the coffee maker. Amelia went over to the prominent Pepsi cooler and slide a door open, the machine was off but the drinks were cold. Looking around it, she saw that the machine was unplugged from the wall.

"Hey Diane, someone unplugged the pop cooler." Bending over Amelia plugged it back in and the machine chugged to life, including a built in light, which cast a thin glow into the shop. "Who would do that, do you think?"

"I don't know, come here and get a candy bar, I know you have to be hungry we have not had anything to eat all day. What's your poison?"

"Snickers. And a Nut Roll. Least bad of all the candy bars. Oh heck, give me a packet of the cashews too, protein and salt, almost everything I need. A bathroom is next though." The last time the women had a chance to go had been a stop about three hours ago when they refueled the car at a deserted 7-Eleven store. Amelia had an ex-boyfriend who had worked at a 7-Eleven when she was sixteen, he had shown her how to turn the pumps on and off on one of the many times she had sat through his shift with him.

"Okay now a bathroom, and then let's go check out the fourth floor." The women crawled through the broken door with their loot, stopped at the lobby bathroom and headed over to the far wing of the hotel. Once there Diane was unsure of how far to go up, from the outside she had thought it was the fourth floor, however the hotel had rooms on the ground floor, which she thought were obscured from her vision when she counted. She opted for the fifth floor and they made their way slowly up the stairs until they were outside the door leading into the hallway to the rooms.

"Ready? I mean not to sound scary or anything, but the kid was probably locked up in the room for a reason, so I am expecting the worst," said Amelia. Both women had makeshift weapons, Diane had a novelty walking stick from the gift shop and Amelia had opted for a fire poker from the fireplace in the lobby.

Amelia slowly opened the door and they peered down the corridor beyond, it was a straight shot and while the lights were off, the electric 'exit' sign cast its red shadow beyond where Amelia thought the door they were looking for was.

There were things in the hallway, a lot of rubbish and, it looked like suitcases or maybe bodies, and there was someone moving three quarters of the way to the end. _'Shit'_ , Amelia thought, _'I was hoping it was just a scared kid, not a scared kid with zombies at his door.'_ With as much reluctance as resolve, she stepped into the hallway towards the movement.

As she passed the doors she found some of them open, and the smells from within were not comforting, it seemed like every other room staggered on each side, was an open doorway. Some of the doors had been battered open, most had not. Amelia, followed closely by Diane flitted from doorway to doorway, trying not to draw the attention of the thing down the hall. The first open doorway they ducked into had three bodies, a woman perhaps thirty years old, with two kids, one was maybe ten, and the other looked to be six or seven. Amelia almost vomited her cashews, Diane did. While Diane was retching, Amelia watched the doorway and whispered, "Quiet Diane, I know, I know, but you have to stay quiet or whatever it is will hear us. Shh, shh."

Turning back to the doorway Amelia heard running and was then confronted by woman in her mid-thirties who smiled at her wickedly and said, "Oh you have come! Help is here, thank God!" as she rushed forward to embrace Amelia with arms flung open.

"Stop!" shrieked Amelia, after momentary losing her senses and almost, opening her arms to comfort a fellow woman in distress. Instead, she stepped back and raised the poker up to the woman's face.

The woman, who was hard to see in the dim light, smashed the fire poker aside, but Amelia was quicker and somehow had been expecting the blow. She swung the poker back around and struck the woman a sharp blow across the front of her face. The woman screamed in agony, "That was my eye you bitch!" and leaped towards Amelia again. By this time Amelia had stepped back into the room right next to where Diane was trying to get up from vomiting, there was little more room without stepping over Diane or leaping over the bodies, which were on the first of two full sized beds in the room. Amelia yelled, "Get back Diane!" and trusting her to do so Amelia half leaped, half rolled over the bodies to put a bed between herself and demonic woman. The zombie opted to go for Diane, who had just enough time to get her feet under her before being barreled over. Amelia was there in an instant striking the zombie in the back while it tried to maul Diane, whose arms were up in a defensive posture trying to push the thing off her. To make matters worse all around, she had not stopped vomiting and the mess and smell was nauseating. Amelia swung back for another strike when the zombie seemed to realize something was very wrong, it rolled over and tried to move sideways away from the blows Amelia was raining down upon it. Now its hands were up in a warding posture, however it could not go sideways, there was not enough room, it ended up wedged half under a desk with its legs sticking, and kicking, out at Amelia.

The zombie started making an injured mewing noise and Amelia switched from swinging to poking the thing, while Diane, who had now rolled back over to her hands and knees crawled towards the window of the room.

Finally, Amelia was able to get herself into position and poke the zombie firmly in the throat, which seemed to take a lot of the fight out of it. She followed up with three rapid pokes to its head and then drug it out from under the desk to finish it off with blows hard enough to bend her fire poker. Diane, meanwhile, had gotten to her feet and was watching Amelia with a look of horror on her face.

Amelia stopped, concerned, "What? What Diane? I had to finish it off."

"No." sobbed Diane, "No. That is not it." She held up her arms, both of which were bleeding fiercely from bite wounds.

"Oh no." Amelia said softly, "Oh no, oh no! I tried to get there fast enough Diane, I couldn't get there, she, it, it was so fast! It moved too fast, but I thought I got to it before it did anything to you. I am sorry Diane, I am sorry."

Amelia moved towards Diane, then stopped herself and said, "Let me get towels!" she moved into the bathroom and grabbed several of the clean towels, casting a glance at the room's door she moved to stand near the window where Diane was attempting to staunch the flow of her blood from a ghastly looking wrist wound. As Amelia tried to bandage her arms, Diane, whispered, "There is another one behind you, a slow one."

Amelia pretended not to hear but looked for her fire poker, there! She spotted it on the bed, next to Diane's flashlight. Diane fainted and pulled out of Amelia's grasp, Amelia turned and grabbed the fire poker swinging it around on another soccer mom, this one in really bad shape, missing most of one arm, it's shirt was torn down the center revealing one breast which hung by fatty tissue to her chest. The zombie lurched forward grabbing for Amelia, after the first zombie Amelia was surprised at how incredibly easy it was to dispatch it's slower brethren, one quick, un-deflected blow to the head, then several more blows to make sure it was down for good and not just pretending.

"I gotta shut the door, I gotta shut the door!" Amelia said to herself looking for a something to keep it shut as she advanced on the doorway. She kept her poker raised and approached the door quietly, listening for movement in the hallway. There! She heard a footstep, slow, tentative, another slow zombie! Amelia readied herself for a killing shot and when the zombie came through the door she bashed it in the head, only this one was quicker than most and deflected the blow with its forearm. It was a young one, maybe eleven years old and it went down under Amelia's assault, she was getting ready to whack it again when her inner voice told her to stop, stop! Her mind lurched forward-looking for a logical reason why to go with her instinct to not strike again and she found it when she realized the zombie was screaming and crying! Zombies had not yet cried, as far as Amelia knew, but she veered her shot to land in the carpet beside the body and stepped back. Crying. Crying and sobbing, "Don't. Please. Plee-ease don't!" then bawling. Amelia still was not sure.

_'This is crazy.'_ she thought, _'I can't even tell humans from zombies now!'_

She opted for not bashing the child's head in and instead grabbed its ankle and pulled it into the bathroom, slamming the door on it before turning back to the main door of the room, which she slammed shut. There was nothing to block it with and as the door had been forced, she could not simply use the deadbolt. Instead, she fastened the security chain, thinking it might at least give her warning if someone came into the room after her. Then she turned and grabbed the two corpses on the floor and piled them in front of the door, they could be shoved out of the way, but it would take a lot of effort to do so and would make even more noise. The sobbing in the bathroom continued, Amelia turned towards the shut bathroom door and said, "If you are not a zombie kid I am really sorry for hitting you, but I didn't know. If you are a zombie kid then I am not sorry at all and either way you had better stay in the bathroom right now or I will think you are a zombie and brain you. Got it?"

The only answer was the deadbolt on the bathroom door sliding closed with a metallic 'snick'.

"Good enough stay in there while I help my friend." Amelia turned back to Diane, letting her eyes linger once again on the bodies on the bed. Going to Diane, she found the woman was still bleeding profusely, Amelia had no medical training, she did not know what a critical amount of blood loss was, but there was a lot of blood everywhere. She pulled Diane up onto the bed closest to the window and pressed a towel to the worst wound, wrapping it tightly around her wrist, before turning to the other hand and doing the same thing. Amelia could not keep the bandages tight and wound up snagging a pair of scissors from what looked like a crafting basket and cutting a bunch of strips out of the sheet on the bed. Once she did this, she took the soaked towels off Diane's arms and bound them with fresh towels fastening them securely with the strips of sheeting. Amelia did have some sense that she was doing something wrong, ' _Changing the bandages_ ' she thought, ' _maybe that was it, if you changed them it did not allow clots to form? Maybe it was the tightness of the bandages, cutting off circulation to Diane's fingers?_ ' She checked Diane's fingers pinching them and feeling them, both hands were cold and white, that didn't look good.

Diane's breathing became labored and she abruptly sat up, wheezing, "Amelia!" Diane cried out, "Amelia!"

"I am here Diane, I am here! You're going to be alright."

"Amelia, it hurts pretty badly. I want you to know it is not your fault. I should not have been throwing up, I knew what to expect when we broke in here and couldn't keep from tossing my cookies, and if I had been faster, I could have got out of the way. It is not your fault, okay?"

"Shh Diane, don't worry about it, just calm down, okay?"

Diane did calm down, she took a few deep breaths and looked up at the ceiling while trying to stay calm, and the problem was she could not feel her hands and her arms were aching terribly. Unlike Amelia, Diane did have first aid training, from a course she had taken after her grandson fell while playing at her daughter's house and broke his arm. Diane did not like the helpless feeling she had that day while waiting for the paramedics to arrive and had soon after enrolled in and completed both a first aid and a CPR course offered through the local Red Cross. She pulled her arms up in front of her face and said, "Amelia, shine a light on my hands, please."

Amelia did so, Diane said, "Okay you have the bandages too tight they are cutting off circulation to my fingers and hands you have to loosen them a bit. Not that I am complaining, you stopped me from bleeding to death. Let see if we can't get them a little looser and still control the bleeding."

Amelia did as Diane said and eventually they found a compromise between suppressing the blood loss and allowing Diane's hands circulation.

As they were adjusting the bandages, Diane heard the sobbing from the bathroom, "What is that Amelia?"

Amelia explained about the child-zombie in the bathroom. Diane was shocked, as if the thought of a zombie child had never crossed her mind. "Are you sure it is a zombie?" Amelia shook her head _'no'_ and said, "Uh-huh, I don't know but I had to get you taken care of before I dealt with it. Her. Him. I dunno whatever it is."

"Honey, you better deal with it now, because if it is a little kid you are going to feel really bad if you wait too long. Go to the door and try to find out, ask it questions and see what it says."

Amelia moved over to the bathroom door and said, "Hey in there? You okay?"

The crying stopped and a small voice answered, "No. My arm hurts and I can't hold anything with it. You hit me so hard!" The anguish in the voice was full of reproach and Amelia felt awful. "Why did you hit me?"

"Look I didn't know, I thought you were a zombie, in fact," and Amelia felt bad for saying so, "I still don't know if you are a zombie or not. What were you doing in the hallway?"

The crying started again.

"Hello? What were you doing in the hallway?"

Through sobs, the voice answered, "I thought you were here to save me!"

' _Oh frick, no way to know unless the kid opens the damn door and even then how can I know for sure?_ ', she thought, then out loud she said, "Okay, you gotta come out here and let me look at your arm, my friend knows about these sorts of things, she can tell us if your arm is broken. Okay."

"No. Go away."

"Diane? Diane, the kid won't come out. What do I do? It has the door locked from the inside." called out Amelia.

"I suppose candy wouldn't work. Just keep trying, we have to go soon, at least move to a different room and if the kid wants to come with us, it has to come out. Now." replied Diane

"Okay, okay." back towards the door she said, "Look kid, I am sorry for hitting you but I didn't know okay? We cannot stay in this room. Here, we cannot stay here, so unless you want to be alone again you are going to have to come out and let us look you over to make sure you are not one of them."

Nothing. The door did not unlock, the sobbing continued quietly.

"Kid! C'mon sweetie, open the door and come out, we have to leave this room it is getting creepy. Which room were you in? The door must still be okay, if the zombies could not get in, let's move back to your room, okay? Kid?"

"That's what the other zombie said too. I had to come out so we could 'go'." replied the voice. "Then they said they would just keep me there, penned up like a meal for when they got hungry again."

"Oh honey, I...I we got to get out of this room, do you have a light in there? Anything?"

"No. I don't have a light."

"Hey then why don't you open the door enough so I can pass you a flashlight, okay?"

"You won't hit me again?"

"No, I won't. Here I will sit the light on the floor you can come out and get it and I will stay away from the door and everything." Amelia turned one of her flashlights on and pointed it towards the wall, setting it down near the door. She then stepped back and waited. She saw a small head and eye peer out from underneath the door sideways.

"Move farther back." Amelia moved until her butt was up against the far wall.

The head disappeared from the floor and the lock clicked open. The door slid open slowly and a hand reached out and took the flashlight, instead of closing, the door eased open farther revealing a child in an overly large 'Colorado Rockies' t-shirt and gray shorts.

From the kid's haircut and clothing, Amelia thought it was a boy, probably. "What is your name?"

"Cory." he said.

"Cory, I am Amelia. I am sorry for hitting you. It's just I was fighting the zombies and I thought you were one of them." As Cory stood there, listening Amelia could see him trying to stop from crying, silent tears were forming in his eyes and he shifted awkwardly with his left hand holding the flashlight, his right arm was mostly hidden by the oversized Rockies shirt and was pointed straight down along his side.

"Cory, could you pull up your shirt sleeve and let me see your arm?" Cory did this and Amelia was saddened to see the result of her swing, his arm was bruised to the point of being black and the arm was swollen with broken skin at the impact point. "Oh God. I am so sorry, baby, so sorry."

With that, Cory started to cry again and then flung himself forward into Amelia's body. Amelia did not know how to respond and hated herself for it, she wanted to comfort the boy, at the same time she was waiting for his teeth to tear into her abdomen or worse into her breasts like the second zombie she had killed. Cory did not seem to feel her grow stiff beneath his one armed embrace and just held her until Amelia was sure he was not a zombie, and then she patted his head and made soothing sounds trying to get him to quiet down. Eventually she brought him over to Diane, who said probably the arm was broken, but she did not know; still it would be best if they treated it as if it were broken for now, just to be safe. She had Amelia cut more off the sheet in a triangle shape and then talked her through making a pretty fair sling for Cory's arm. Partway through the proceedings, Amelia was able to throw blankets over the bodies on the bed and she took a spare blanket from the closet and tossed it over the bodies near the door when she noticed Cory's eyes being drawn to them like ants to a picnic sandwich.

Once everyone was bandaged and bound up Diane pronounced that she was ready to go and Amelia asked Cory if they could go back to his room, he said sure and after Amelia moved the bodies away from the door and checked the hallway, they proceeded down another dozen doors to Cory's room. His door had not been forced in, though it was battered and there were two bodies outside of it.

Cory pointed to them and said, "They were fighting, then the smart one came along and bashed them, the other one followed the smart mom around and she said she could make it do what she wanted."

There was no one in Cory's room, Amelia checked all the closets and the bathroom after they shut and locked the outer door. She then moved the hotel's table over in front of the door and put both the chairs in front of that as well. Diane lay down on the bed, which was made, and Cory sat cross-legged on the other bed, obviously 'his' bed. Amelia noted he took his shoes, those plastic kinds that all kids loved during the summer, off before getting on the furniture, obviously a well-behaved kid in ordinary circumstances.

Amelia opened the drapes to let in some light from the parking lot and slowly got Cory's story out of him. He and his mom were there for a 'Academy of the Brain' event, where kids and their parents got together and formed teams to compete against each other in building robots, answering trivia questions and figuring out logic puzzles. He was ten and had just qualified this year, after hearing about it from his cousin the whole last year and about what a good time it was. Each team was modeled after those of a popular children's book into separate houses and his was down by three points. Which Cory assured Amelia was nothing; they were practically in the lead as the next team out of seven was behind them by a whole eleven points. They were supposed to compete that day, but his mom told him there was some kind of emergency and they would not get to play again until later. Then the power went out and Cory's mom went to find out what was going on. She never came back. After that, someone started screaming down the hall and when Cory stuck his head out to see what was going on, he saw the zombies doing bad things to people. He locked his door and hid in the closet, the beds had solid bases, otherwise he would have hid there, he confided.

Nothing happened for a long time, until eventually the banging started on his door, then there was a fight or something out in the hall and a woman told him it was okay and he could come out. He almost did, but when he pushed a chair over to the door to look out the peephole he saw another lady all bloody next to the mom type who was asking him to come out. She was looking like right at him, almost as if she could see him through the door. She tried to talk him out of the room, cajoling him to open the door and promising nothing would happen to him. Cory heard a car in the parking lot and went over to the window where he saw Amelia and Diane go into the lobby.

The woman at the door the woman tried to break in then, banging on it really hard with her hands several times, but the door did not give in. She told him it was just as well, she would just save him for 'later', when she was hungry. Cory then hid in the closet again and when he heard the fight down the hall, he opened the door to get help, when the zombies did not come out of the room he sneaked up quietly to peek inside, where he got hit with the fire poker. Cory was from a small mountain town called 'Eagle', which Amelia recalled had gained some notoriety for a criminal case against a basketball star years before. He was very much alone in town and there was no question that he would be coming with them when they left.

"Cory do you have a radio?" Diane asked breaking her silence after Amelia was done getting Cory's story.

"No. Not really. I have an i-Pod though, it has a radio." he responded.

Diane sighed, as if knowing she got the right answer to the wrong question, "Hey buddy, would it be okay if Amelia tried to listen to your i-Pod radio for a minute?"

"Sure." Cory hopped off the bed and rummaged around in his suitcase, half of which appeared to be full of toys. Eventually he came up with the popular white music player, which he handed to Amelia, saying, "You turn it on here and this, I think, is how you get to the radio. I never used it, so I don't know." As he spoke he pressed a series of buttons until Amelia, who had one earplug in could hear the static of the FM band.

"Thanks Cory, I got it from here." Smiling, she thought of her i--Pod, which she had left sitting at home on her dresser. Kids.

Chapter 40

"Alright Fred, Bobby it is time to go find a DSD and GameBoy at the store, if you guys are ready." said Jimbo.

"It is a 'PSP', not 'DSD!'" cried Bobby, "I keep telling you!"

"Whatever, get your hiney moving out before I change your mind." laughing Jimbo was amused that being a kid was the same whether you were a zombie kid or a living human, how would Bobby 'grow up'? "C'mon Fred lets go, there is smoke over that way, that means activity and probably human activity, so we can eat along the way."

The trio set off towards the smoke and soon enough they spotted a gang of zombies stopped in the front yard gnawing on a couple of bodies. Jimbo stopped when he saw them and hissed at Fred, "It is her Fred! It is Nancy and that gang of girls she has! Can you get her from here? And stop her? Like we practiced?"

Fred stopped, crouched down and concentrated on the group. "There is something Jim, something, but it is like she is strong or something, I feel she belongs to me, like a daughter or something, kind of like you only stronger, but man Jim she is strong. I...I think she notices me trying too." Sure enough, one of the women stood up and glanced in their direction. She stood up and it was as if Jimbo could see the strings pulling the other girls up and into formation behind her. They all looked around warily and then Nancy started coming tentatively in their direction. Jimbo sent Bobby off to hide in some bushes to the side, thinking the boy was probably not strong enough to be of much use mentally or physically. Nancy looked huge, her size was the same, but it was as if she was ready to burst out of her body. The girls behind her looked the same and Jimbo knew if it came to a fight that they were probably out matched. Mentally he felt Nancy's icy grip straining at his mind, he resisted and he could hold her off, but just barely, the fight that took place in his head at that instant left him as tired as if he had been running all day long. Jimbo staggered to his knees as Nancy walked up to them.

"Jimbo, Jimbo, Jimbo, you dirty little fuck. After all I did for you? And this is how you repay me? By nurturing Fred back to health?" Turning towards Fred she said, "Hello daddy! It is so bad to meet you at last! I was hoping you would be much less challenging. Oh, I feel you, you dirty little slobberer! Get. Out. Of. My. Head!" Nancy then screamed as Jimbo yelled, "Yes Fred, get her Fred!"

While Nancy was fighting for her mind with Jimbo she had scant mental ability left to direct her girls to attack Fred, 'Screw that fuck Jimbo, get this maniac off me!' she screamed to the girls. Fred did not affect the girls, as he was concentrating fully on Nancy and winning too, until the girls jumped him.

Jimbo leaped on one of the girl's backs, bringing her to the pavement, but not taking her out of the fight completely. He assaulted another girl mentally, although he was technically her 'sibling', both of them having been created by Nancy, he employed the techniques he had originally used on Fred, getting his mind around and through the cracks of the girl's mental armor in about half a minute. Her shields were surprisingly good, and then again, it was obvious she had been building herself up to repel Nancy. Jimbo stopped the girl, Julie in her tracks mentally, though the effort at slowing the girl, Trish, whom he was fighting and stopping Julie cold left Jimbo physically and mentally exhausted. Fred was having his own problems and in virtually the same boat as Jimbo, one opponent he had to hold off mentally, the other was getting ready to hack him apart physically. Jimbo wrapped his arms around Trish and held her down on the ground, pinning her. It was all he could do to keep both girls pinned and hope, beyond hope that Fred would win the battle.

As he lay there holding the girl down Jimbo contemplated bringing Bobby up behind Nancy, the problem was Bobby was weak, probably not strong enough to kill a zombie. Even if he had the jump on one and definitely not strong enough to take out a zombie as tough as Nancy, his use would be only as a distraction and he knew Fred had to have contemplated the same strategy and discarded it as well. Bobby remained hidden in the bushes, while Jimbo watched the melee and mental combat between Fred, Nancy and Veronica.

In the scuffle that followed Jimbo could barely follow what was happening. Veronica jumped Fred, but he sidestepped and ducked, throwing her off with apparent ease, only then a large rip appeared in his shirt, as if by magic and Jimbo realized Veronica had made the jump look easily block able so she could slice Fred as she was 'thrown off'. Fred staggered, prompting Veronica to roll towards him and swing the blade she had up towards his groin. Only Fred's ploy was a feint too, instead of being down in easy slicing distance he lashed out with his foot kicking Veronica in her unprotected head, a blow that would probably have knocked a normal human back dazed or perhaps even unconscious.

Veronica rolled away and regained her feet, Fred did not follow up on his advantage and Jimbo could see/feel with his mind that Fred was still pressing his advantage on Nancy, trying to deliver a mental knockout punch so he could deal with her girls afterwards.

Jimbo realized this was a mistake, Nancy was pretty well cowed and Fred probably could have kept her incapacitated while he diverted some of his energy to defeating Veronica. Jimbo tried to compensate, but he was having trouble just keeping the two girls he had mentally pinned and physically he could see he was no match for Veronica. Soon enough Veronica was back on top of Fred, sliding to the side at the last minute while striking his leg with her hand, embedding the blade deep in Fred's thigh. In exchange, Fred bitch slapped her so hard that Veronica literally spun a half circle in the air before staggering away from Fred about ten feet. Fred stumbled, unable to follow up on his Herculean blow, this allowed Veronica the time to pull out another long kitchen type knife and run a half circle out around Fred, instead of striking at Fred; Veronica feinted towards him and then did a flying leap at Jimbo! Jimbo tried to shift Trish in front of him but Trish moved at just the right time and Veronica ended up stabbing through Jimbo's chest, through his shoulder blade and into the lawn beneath him!

Howling like a banshee Jimbo tried to keep his mental and physical grips on the girls, but he could not. Veronica joined the fight to free the girls from Jimbo's mental hold; she must have sensed Fred was busy dealing with Nancy. This was a terrible risk for her to take, it left her wide open to Fred, however he was too busy trying to break Nancy to thrust in Veronica's direction and as a result Jimbo was walled off from the girls. He knew he could regain control, he was more powerful than any of the three girls, in fact more powerful mentally than any two of them, maybe against all three with the tricks he knew, however against all three it would take a little time. The girls, it seemed, were not going to give him even a moment. Leaving him pinned to the ground, watched over by Trish, Veronica and Julie leaped at Jimbo. Veronica pulled yet another kitchen knife from her clothing, whereas Julie just leaped at Fred. He almost ducked her, but in the end, her hand latched on to his shoulder and spun him around, presenting his back as a perfect target for Veronica's knife. She angled the sideways into the top of his spine, almost at the neck. With his spinal cord severed, Fred toppled over and both girls jumped on top of his body and tore it apart.

Jimbo laughed at the triumph he felt Nancy feeling, knowing the minds of the girls he had so recently been inside of he knew there would soon be a rebellion that would take her down. He struggled to his knees, pulling the long knife out of his shoulder and letting it fall with a dull metallic clunk to the sidewalk just in front of him.

Jimbo sent Bobby a quick thought message _, 'Stay hidden Bobby, then get out of here when they are done with me, and get your PSP. If Nancy sees you, she will kill you, so stay away from her.'_ He also made a mental thought and removed what he thought of as his back door into Bobby's mind, shutting down the rainbow, there was too much to do in the short time he had and as he was trying to build up Bobby's mental defenses, he was shocked back into focus by Nancy's hand slamming across his face.

"What Jimbo? Too, dazed to say 'Hello'? You should never have come looking for me." While she said this out loud her mental assault continued, the girls joined her efforts, particularly the one called 'Julie' who was acting on their own _. 'They know!'_ Jimbo thought, _'They know I can resist Nancy's orders and are trying to figure out how I am doing it before she kills me.'_ He laughed aloud.

"Hello? Jimbo when someone is hitting you in the face you don't normally laugh. What is so funny you little shit comedian?" As Nancy said this, she stopped hitting Jimbo and he could refocus and see that she was genuinely confused by his behavior and exhausted too, from the mental fight for control they had just had. He knew she would not be able to dominate him, she did not have the strength, he also knew he was probably dead anyway, he could maybe outrun Nancy, but not the girls, who seemed to be in even better shape after having consumed parts of Fred.

Nancy's glowing, otherworldly hugeness had disappeared, she just looked tired now, but still human.

"I don't suppose it would do me any good to tell you I could still be useful to you?" asked Jimbo.

"Well normally Jimbo I would be inclined to say, 'sure', but you? You? You left me in a bad spot, found the one person who could dominate me, nursed him into consciousness and obviously tried to use him against me. Was I that bad? I mean really?"

"Yeah. Yeah you were Nancy, never let me quite rise to myself, and withheld food. Made me do the shit jobs. You think you will get loyalty that way? Oh and you are wrong anyway, he had me too, Nancy, Fred could do to me what you could. Only he didn't, he would have been better than you. You know what that means, huh? Yeah I see you do."

"So whoever made Fred is who I should be gunning for now, right? I get you Jimbo. But I don't care, you know why? No? You Jimbo, I could not get into your mind, it is all smoke and mirrors in there, nothing to grab onto anymore. Where did you pick that trick up in the last twenty-four hours? It don't matter really, if you did it, I can learn it too and when I do, no one will have me. No one."

Jimbo started laughing again and when Nancy raised a questioning eyebrow, he just pointed at her girls. "Them Nancy, how long until they can keep you out? Then what do you do?"

Nancy looked thoughtful for a full minute, then said, "Well thank you Jimbo, you have opened my eyes to the reality of the situation."

Turning to the girls she said, "I see it now, what he is saying, it is only a matter of time, isn't it? So. We have to come up with a new deal, a better deal than me bossing all of you around, so how do I make it work, what do you want of me?"

Jimbo felt hope, almost he could envision himself getting out of this situation no more dead than he already was.

"Well c'mon, as Jimbo said you will either tell me now or stab me in the back like this mother fucker later. What can we do to have a more equitable relationship? You, Veronica, you have been with me the longest you tell me what you think."

"Ah, Nancy, we want control, not you in our heads making us do everything. We would rather be officers than grunts and we, I, want to be asked to do things, not made to do things I detest."

"The toddlers. Yeah I know that was a tough call, but what? You would have left them there to die? Or found some humans to take them in? If it was not us who did it, not you, then who?" asked Nancy.

"I don't know, but not me. Not me and never again. You don't seem to understand, things have changed we are not human anymore, I know that, but just because you have that power over us, however little it is, does not mean you should be boss. What are your plans? I hear you mumble about getting Fred and Jimbo and Max and what? What Nancy? Things have changed, what are we going to do?"

"Well for now I am not giving you control, your attitude needs to improve a bit. Can't you see I am trying to build an empire here? You three are the start, and will be the generals in the new world order, I want to find the people who are a threat to me, to us, and eliminate them first, then go after fuckers like Dave and take them down while building us up. I can't have people not following orders, the kids were a lesson to you, that is all. Don't fuck up and it won't happen again, right? You learned your lesson and it won't happen again."

"No Nancy, try it, just try it now, I could walk away right now, I can SEE your strength you are recovering, but I could have taken you the minute Fred's blood touched my tongue. The very minute. So what are you going to change right now to make me happy?"

Nancy again paused and looked the girls over. This was not going as planned, but they were not walking and they were not ripping her limb from limb, so maybe a compromise could be worked out.

"Well fuck me; this is what I get for bringing you into the new world, huh? Fuck your own mother over will you? Okay. Okay, I get it, you don't like being bossed around, so what? We rule by committee? We go our separate ways? We don't eat babies? What do you want?"

Veronica looked at Julie and Trish, "You two agree to let me do the rest of the talking? Or do you feel differently?" The other girls stammered that they agreed with Veronica, who turned to Nancy then continued, "Okay what I want is for you to stop being such a dumb ass. Could you do that? You're gonna crucify Jimbo here when he obviously has the smarts to get away from you, and the cleverness to find the guy you were looking for since you smarted up, and he figured out how to block a dominate zombie from jerking you around. And you are going to kill him? Right? Right? Fuck that, you are one dumb ass manager, even I, working in a goddamn coffee shop can see talent when it walks up and spits in my face. We don't need him." She cast a glance at Jimbo. "As you said whatever he learned he figured out in the last day, so could we, but when he is gone where do we get our next bit of inspiration from? If you kill the talent, you will surround yourself with idiots who are worthless when push comes to shove. I say we make him an offer, put him on probation, lop off an arm, say 'naughty-naughty Jimbo don't do that again', and make damn sure he is grateful for it. He can show that gratitude by teaching us what he knows, oh sure I expect him to hold out on us, but if we can all teach each other eighty percent of what we learn, we will all grow more powerful. I say it is time for recruiting, Jimbo here, he gets to be the spy master maybe or the chief wizard of information or whatever the fuck you want to call him. I get to control the Army, Trish and Julie, what do you want?"

Trish answered, "Like a government, I want to be the judicial branch. Nancy you get to be president. Julie?"

"I don't know this is happening too fast. Do I have to be anything? Can't I just choose later?"

"Now is not a good time to sit on the sidelines Julie." responded Veronica, "You better chose a force and grab your area of power now, before it is too late."

Still Julie hummed and hawed around, she could not make a decision, finally Veronica said, "Okay fine, I will take you as an administrator in the 'army', you want to be in charge of recruitment? Training? We'll figure it out later, now we have to see if Nancy is going to remain the 'president' and what to do with our Benedict Arnold here."

"Remain the president? Oh of course I am! I mean whom better to lead our nation back to greatness? I can do this V, you know I can and you are right, even dumbfuck over there is right; it was just a matter of time. I mean I couldn't expect to keep a lid on you girls forever. I still think we should off Jimbo though, he is too much of a risk and has already proven he can be treacherous." Nancy, said not quite whining, but something in her voice led Jimbo to believe she was aiming for a concession, as if she didn't get to kill him now, maybe she could do so later, or maybe it was something else.

"No Nancy you still don't get it. We are going to need treachery and the only reason he did what he did was because you were such a bitch. Do you think we like running around hungry with half our brains working? Hell no! You drove him to it and if you don't see that, you really are not good for us. My only reason for even considering staying around is that you are ruthless enough to get the job done. You also seem to have a goal: Eliminate your enemies and gain power. For what? I don't know, but it is better than running into the Dave's of the world and getting fucked over when they are more powerful than we are. I want you to think longer term than that. I will be a commander of your, our, military forces I will hold considerable power to balance you. We need Jimbo - he is not optional. But do we need you?"

"Fuck you drive a hard bargain, you love this don't you, having me over a barrel? You would not be talking to me like this if I hadn't wasted all my efforts protecting you from Fred and Jimbo. No! Don't even start it, I know you need me to change and if we can work together, I will. You get your Jimbo." She spat in his direction. "But I get to lead us and until someone comes up with another plan we still follow my lead."

"Fine" said Veronica, "I can live with that, Jimbo teaches me first, then Trish, then Julie, you last, I don't want you backing out after you get your strength back."

Nancy looked at her with disgust, then chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, okay. You got me covered don't you? You do know I always intended you to be my right hand woman don't you? And I meant what I said, they would have been my generals anyway, I suppose this is worth the price of not having to wait until the next time one of you pull a 'Jimbo' on me."

Veronica turned back to Jimbo, "You can get up now, you good with this? No one killing you again, you teaching us and leading up our spy services? You will have to keep us fed by finding humans, keep us safe by making sure we don't fight other zombie gangs too strong for us to take on and pretty much do everything else we ask. Otherwise, just say the word and walk away now. If we see you again we will kill you, like anyone else who is not with us."

"Uh, when you put it that way, it seems less appealing. I think it could work Veronica and if you can keep Nancy working with me instead of bossing me around you can count me in." He turned to look at Nancy, "You are a grade 'A' bitch, but I could work on your side."

"Thanks Jimbo." Nancy said sarcastically, "I love you too."

"I think the first order of business, for our security, is to find who started this mess. I mean Fred didn't, and I kind of doubt the guy who bit Fred started it either. Who is the head guy or gal? And where are they, we need information and I am going to make tracking that person down my all-time second priority after doing the other things you mentioned: food, teaching, short term security, intelligence work." said Jimbo. "We need to figure out a growth strategy too, how many, how soon, do we accept volunteers or must everyone we take on be our 'children'? We need to do this pronto, before we are overwhelmed by the humans striking back or some other gang wiping us out. I saw what happened when you girls ate Fred; you gained something, like eating a normal human only more so, that means our smartest and most developed will be targets for other smart zombies. We need a base of operations too, where do we make our hideout or fortress of solitude?"

"Good questions Jimbo and a good start. Nancy?" said Veronica.

Grudgingly Nancy replied, "Yeah, okay things I had not considered, but the situation is rapidly changing. Look around here - have the suburbs been good? Sure they have, but half or more of the houses are abandoned right now, no one there to eat. I think we need to move to a different suburb at the very least, if not to another city altogether, does anyone know if the Springs has been infected? No? Yeah I have to admit I have not been watching FOX News much lately either. Instinctively I would say move to Aurora or out east into the sprawl, but that might not be a good move. Everyone will think the same way, north east is pretty much a huge population center too, so the same rule applies, so I have another idea." When no one asked or replied to her Nancy continued. "Let's go look up Max, Arvada is a smaller suburb, maybe there will not be so many people there and even if Max did not survive, well he had a wife and kids, so we could get a couple recruits out of the deal, assuming she was smart enough to lay low. If Arvada was picked clean we head further west into Golden or up the interstate seventy corridors, eating our way west, or maybe we head to a ski town, smaller population but big enough for our shorter-term needs and how many zombies will think the same way? Hopefully fewer than that head south or north along the Front Range. Any comments?"

Jimbo raised his hands, "Just one, it sounds good - better than my thought of 'hunting for our maker' anyway, but how do we find Max's house?"

Smiling Nancy pulled out a pad of paper and waved it in front of Jimbo's face, "See? They left it when they fled MAC CO., it has their addresses on it, and Max's is the last one. If they are lucky they will survive to walk into an ambush, if we can get there first."

Chapter 41

Max woke early in the morning to noise from the front of the clinic. He hurt all along his stomach, a burning itch he could not scratch, the noise persisted and he swung himself off the exam table and padded out the door in his boxers, grabbing a bat that had been left thoughtfully by the door.

As he reached the main doors of the clinic, he saw one of the younger men in armor finishing off a zombie with his ax, a big hulking ugly ax. The young man saw Max and whistled out to an unseen companion, a woman Max did not know, they both said to Max at the same time, "Are you okay? Should you be up?" The stereo effect was humorous and they both blushed and looked at each other before letting out short, nervous laughs.

"Yeah, yeah I am fine, how are things out here?"

The man answered, "Good, they rush at us once in a while, but they are pretty easy to fight off, none of the smart ones come close now, since we shot a couple of them." Max noticed the large revolver he had found was in the kid's waistband. "Our biggest concern is that the smarter ones will find guns, if they do that we could all be screwed, which is why we try and stay in the foyer here, just in case."

"Where are Stewart and Steve at?"

The man gestured into the clinic, "First door on the left, past the reception area."

"Thanks." Max turned and walked past the reception area and knocked on the first door to the left. A moan came from the room and Max quickly let himself in, he barged in on Steve and Tom half-waking up from their spots on the floor and Stewart, laying on the exam table fumbling for her gun, then stopping when she saw Max.

"Good morning Max. Are you supposed to be up?" said Stewart with a yawn in her voice.

"Well they took out my I.V. and no one told me to stay in bed, I heard some fighting and went out to see what was up. Who are the kids in the armor, the one with the ax?"

"Oh those guys, good kids, good men and women and kids I mean, they have a couple younger ones with bows and bats too, little sister. The guy with the ax is probably Michael, I gave him your revolver to keep watch with, and I think Whitney is on with him right now, we served our 'watch' last night around eight to midnight. They all helped us get into the clinic, saved our asses if you want to know the truth, they got one guy, Jacob, in real bad shape, they got his legs, the zombies, bit him all up. They needed to get into the clinic too, real bad, when we made our run they watched to see what would happened, and helped out when they could. With arrows Max, you know how hard it is to hit anyone in the head with a fucking arrow? Anyway, Michael says they practiced for years in competition with this role-playing society or something, the rest of them had the armor and weapons from their parents' involvement and I know Michael made the ax he is using, a 'real' weapon he calls it, though it is damn ugly if you ask me. Still it is pretty tough, it hasn't broken and it goes through skulls better than a bat. Look at me, babbling. How are you feeling?"

"Good, I suppose, my gut aches though, really bad. I have to be careful not to twist around much or the nurse told me the stitches will bust and they gave me antibiotics to keep from getting infected. Where is the doc and nurse Beth?"

"Dunno, sleeping if they are smart. Is it about five? Yeah enough sleep in this new age of undead walking the earth."

"So what is the plan now? Hit Steve's and then your place before heading to my house?"

Stewart raised her eyebrows, Steve was back lying down, sleeping and Tom was looking like he was ready to bed down again too. Stewart gestured for Max to step back outside the office and they moved into the reception area to talk.

"You were out for a while, Steve shot out the tire on the squad car, we replaced it with a tire off one of the cars in the street, not a great fit, but the thing drives. Anyway, you know we went to the store to get you clothing, nice boxers by the way; we also managed to get to Steve's apartment and back yesterday afternoon too. The roads are shitty, all filled with broken down cars, almost impassable. I still do not have radio or phone contact with the station, but get this Max, there is a radio station up and running. The guy has been going on for help for quite a while and he is still on, so we know, or we think anyway that he is not a zombie, yet. There have been a few 'good old boys' who have rushed the building, but, wait, you'll hear."

Stewart turned to a radio that was sitting on the reception area counter and turned it on. She adjusted the volume slightly until Max could hear a voice, saying, "This is a recorded message, as of last night I was alive and well, but I need to get some sleep, hidden away as best I can be. I am locked in my station and need help, I am not a zombie, but you have to be careful; some of the zombies have learned to talk and act like living people. I am hoping that some group of people can break in and get me out of here or help me defend the building. The address is..." and the voice gave an address of a building out in Aurora.

"Good! Word is getting out at least!" Max shifted around uncomfortably in his boxers. Stewart looked at him and said, "Hey we have power, why don't you go get dressed and I will make us some coffee? Don't turn on any lights though, use this," she handed him a small keychain light, "we think they are attracted to light and I don't need Michael and Whitney getting overran."

Max readily agreed and quickly went to get dressed, he found a cup of water next to his clothing and note with a small envelope on top of his clothes. The note read, "For pain, take 1-2 pills as needed up to 8 pills a day. Addictive, don't abuse them!" Max thought his pain was of the 'two pill' variety and opening the envelope he found about thirty caplets inside, he quickly swallowed two of them with the water and gingerly pulled on some pants and a shirt. He attempted to pull on some socks, but just could not do the bending required to do so. Instead, he saw that someone had set out some closed black crocs next to his old shoes; he slid these onto his feet and walked back out to the coffee that Stewart had since brewed.

"That smells good! I want the biggest cup you have! Anything to go with it?"

Stewart turned and gestured towards the reception counter, where Max saw she had set a package of jumbo muffins. He suddenly realized how hungry he was. A little girl came out from the hallway and Max tensed up, until he saw she was yawning and trying to shake off sleep, something that did not go well with his image of a zombie child.

She saw Max and he was able to watch her go through the exact same phase as he did, apparently he passed the 'Not a Zombie' recognition pattern in her brain as she did not even bring her bat up into a defensive posture, just smiled a little smile at him and helped herself to a muffin.

"Hi Jane!" she said. Leaving Max wondering who the hell she was talking to, and then he remembered Stewart's first name was Jane.

"Hiya Kiddo! Get any sleep?" replied Stewart.

"Yeah, woke up when they were fighting again though, anything to drink?"

"Sure we have coffee or there is milk or Sunny D in the fridge."

"Coffee?! Blech!" said the child making a disgusted face then turning to go back around to wherever the fridge was.

"Hey" Stewart called after her, "Bring the cream out for us, would 'ya?"

"Sure thing." The girl called over her shoulder.

"That's Lauren; she is Whitney's sister, the girl keeping watch out front. Here." said Stewart handing Max a small white foam coffee cup.

Max raised his eyebrows at the cup, "That is as large as you have? I would hate to see the small size." Taking a sip though, he was surprised at how good the coffee was.

Lauren returned with a cup of orange drink and a carton of heavy cream, handing it to Stewart, she turned to Max sticking out her hand, "Hi I am Lauren."

Max shook her hand and said, "I am Max, pleased to meet you."

Formal she replied, "Likewise Max. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I think so, the doc has me all fixed anyway. Are you okay?"

"Me? Nothing happened to me! I am fine," replied Lauren, who then turned towards her muffin and juice with the hunger of the youth at breakfast.

Stewart laughed. "Yeah she's fine Max. So you up to moving today? We have a plan, while we were moving around yesterday, I think we can get to your place this morning, to gather up your wife and kids."

Max looked at her a second then nodded and said, "Hold that thought, Stewart." He went rushing back to his 'room' and grabbed his phone off the charger, he saw that there had been three unanswered calls from home, nervously he dialed his wife's cell phone number. "C'mon! C'mon!"

After six rings he was shunted to her voice mail, he hung up counted to fifteen and dialed again. Six more rings, nothing, he went out to the waiting room where Stewart was...waiting.

"No answer Stewart, no answer."

"You don't know what that means Max, hell they could still be asleep, right? It doesn't matter though we are heading that way anyway, that is what we agreed on, right?" said Stewart.

Max tried his phone again. No answer. "Shit. Yeah, I am ready to go as soon as we can all get together and go."

Lauren looked at Max with sad eyes, moved over, and gave him a small hug, whispering, "It'll be okay." Before moving back to whatever room, she came from in the clinic.

"What does that mean? 'All get together', it is just the original foursome Max, and the others are not coming with us."

"What? What do you mean? Of course, they have to come with us. They are only kids, plus the Doc and nurse Beth, strength in numbers, right?"

"No Max, they want to stay here, the clinic has few windows and the ones it has are very high up on the walls. Plus, only two outside doors and the back door is steel, they have some medical supplies and more at the pharmacy across the street and they are not too far from two convenience stores and a grocery store, not to mention the clothing stores we got our new duds from. Hell there is even a warehouse store about eight blocks away. They want to stay and we cannot force them to come along with us. Another two straggled in last night, a man and a woman, there is room here for about thirty or forty people. We were thinking we might come back here after getting your family today."

"Here? But I thought, well I thought, I don't know what I thought, head to the mountains maybe? Or just away, when you mentioned the radio station maybe we would go there. Are you sure we can get through to my house today, you said this morning, but you also said the roads are a mess so how do we get to my house?"

"Well yesterday we stopped in at Starbucks to do a little 'shopping' and Tom tried out his laptop, the wireless was still up and we searched Google to get a map to your house so we could plan. He took a screen shot of it and we noticed the light rail line, they have a stop about three blocks from here and there is a line that runs nine blocks away from your house in Arvada. We checked it out and we can drive the car on the rails, slow, but we can do it and I bet it is clear the whole way, even going twenty mph we should be there in less than two hours, right?"

"Whoa, I guess I have to revise my feelings about Tom making such a big deal about getting his laptop. You sure got a lot done while I was out."

"Yeah, you seem to hold us back Max." Stewart said with mild sarcasm in her voice, "Seriously if you had been awake you would have had to deal with all of our usual bickering when it comes to making a decision. The only flaw in the plan, so far as I can see, is will we have to take two vehicles when we come back?"

Max smiled, knowing Stewart was trying to put the best light on the situation, "When can we leave?"

Whitney's voice called into the reception area, "Stewart we got a couple of guys coming in, they look alive, but have guns, you wanna help us here?"

"Coming!" Stewart drew her pistol from her belt and moved towards the doorway, followed closely by Max. They saw two men making their way towards the clinic.

The first man was a big Caucasian and wore a faded denim jacket, blue jeans fresh and crisp from a store shelf somewhere and 'shit' kicker cowboy boots that looked about as old as his jacket. He wore a red bandanna around his neck, carried a backpack and what looked like a shotgun in his hands. A baseball bat was strapped to the backpack with the tip of the bat resting in one of the water bottle holders of the pack. A jumpy, smaller man of Hispanic descent followed him, he too carried a shotgun and a similar backpack set up. His white long sleeved shirt was clean, his blue jeans were faded at the knees, and one leg looked a bit ragged. Both men were constantly scanning the street and cars and the vegetation near the edges of the clinic's parking lot.

They had seen Michael, Whitney, and their weapons were pointed specifically away from the clinic doors as they approached.

When they were about thirty feet away the lead man stopped and called out, "Mind if me an' Juan come in?"

Michael answered, "Sure thing, where you two from?"

The men moved closer, Michael, Whitney, Stewart and Max kept them under an intense gaze, so much so that the lead man raised his hand in a kind of 'Wagons Stop' sort of gesture and said,

"Take it easy people me and Juan, we are normal people, not zombie-folk. I know. I know some of 'em are running around shootin' their mouths off and such, but that ain't us, right Juan?"

"Sí." answered the Hispanic man.

"Juan here, he is the brains behind this outfit and we are headin' over to the gun shop on Mariposa. It's a couple miles of hikin' from here, to try and find some handguns, we got these over and under models from the big warehouse over off Julip, but in a close in fight, well Juan wanted something to put them zombies down and not much works better than a blow to the head with a bat. Let's start this slow, okay? My name is Hank and this'n here is Juan," said Hank, hitching his thumb back at the man behind him, "What'r you folks called?"

"I am Michael, Mike, this is Whitney, then there is Jane and behind her is Max," said Michael, never taking his eyes off the men in front of him.

"Well Michael, I can tell you ain't zombies, don't know how, I just can. How many others you got in there with 'ya?" The man behind Hank tugged on his shirt, Hank leaned over a quiet, quick conversation took place, "Ah, yeah, Juan here is right, none of my damn business. He smells coffee though and would love to have a cup if you don't mind? Here you can hold our o'ver-unders too," as he said this Hank and Juan held out their rifles to Mike and Whitney.

Michael looked at Whitney, shrugged and declined to take the guns, "No go on in, Jane has coffee made, we only have little cups though, plenty of coffee you just have to refill the cups a lot."

"That so? Well Juan don't mind, me either for all that. Thanks Michael."

Stewart and Max backed into the reception area followed closely by Hank and Juan. Whitney and Michael stayed to watch the front door.

Max saw Lauren standing quietly in a doorway down the hall, all but invisible in the shadows as she watched the group, probably waiting to spring the alarms if she needed to. Max sat back on the arm of a chair, he could not get himself to bend to sit down, despite the pain medicine. Stewart gestured towards the coffee, Juan quickly poured cups for himself and Hank, putting sugar in his, and cream and sugar substitute in Hanks.

"Well where did you folks come from? Is one of you a police officer? I saw the car out front."

Max realized then that Stewart was out of uniform, in new clothing undoubtedly salvaged yesterday when they were out gathering supplies.

"Yeah that's me. Officer Jane Stewart." said Stewart extending her hand to Hank, who looked at it a moment, then shook it. Juan put his hand out to shake too, before settling into an office chair to observe the conversation.

"Figured as much, you got the holster an all. So you want to spill your story or should we go first?"

Stewart said that Max should tell their tale and she would fill in the pieces he missed, Max did so telling what had happened over the last two days since he arrived at work and leaving off only the plans to get to his house and get his wife and kids.

Hank and Juan listened intensely, and then Hank asked, "Well, well, what about your wife Max, that must be next on your list, right? Arvada is quite a ways away, a long walk unless you got a way to clear the streets? I know where the city keeps their snowplows, all two of 'em. They would run though and could probably push the cars outta the way."

Max gave a short laugh, "No Hank, I think we got it covered, but we might need both snowplows if we all want to get out of the city sometime."

"Get out? Hmm, never much considered leaving, this is our home here, me and Juan and no flesh eating zombie is going to make us leave, right Juan?"

"Sí."

"Take it for what it's worth, but me and Juan did a little thinking about this the other evening, ain't that right Juan?"

"Sí."

"So, we're sitting there, me and Juan, listening to the sounds of the city, staring up at the stars when it hits me, us. Well, Juan really. It is so dang simple. What we have here is a case of good science gone wrong. Isn't that how it always happens?"

"Sí."

"I wasn't talking to you. Anyway, at first we thought it was probably those A-rabs and some kind of terrorist plot. But come on, you expect them to concoct some virus that makes people turn into zombies and start eating each other? Not a chance, they're not smart enough. So, who is smart enough? Us?"

"Sí."

"Let me explain it, ok?"

"Sí."

"Anyway, us, it had to be us. Not me and Juan, but the good old U-S of A. So, the next question we asked ourselves was, why? Why would we come up with some sort of magic potion to make someone into a zombie? I mean, what's the point? It's not our style is it? Juan, you be quiet. No, when we want to fight we're all about bombs and sending our good old boys over for a face-to-face ass kicking. So then how did it happen? That's when Juan came up with the idea about good science gone bad, right?"

"Sí... Some sort of mad scientist or something."

"We got to thinking, probably some guy in a white lab coat trying to find the cure for cancer, aids, the common cold and bam! The next thing you know he has lab rats eating one another. Now, this is where it gets interesting. Juan says to me, 'Hank, I'll bet you a cerveza that these zombies have got special powers. Like super human combat powers.' and I says to him, 'special powers? Like superman? I don't see any of them flying around.' And he says to me, 'no, not flying around but seeing stuff we can't see, like x-ray vision. Stuff to make them faster and stronger. For fighting.' So, Juan's idea is that these zombies can see our heat, or life or something that separates us from them, kind of like that movie Predator where Arnold fights that alien in the jungle, seen it?"

"Sí."

"Not you. I know you've seen it because we saw it together. Take a look at how the dumber ones gather around the lights at night or things that radiate heat during the day. Something attracts them to it, eh?"

"Sí. Heat vision maybe or infrared."

"You want to finish explaining our hypotenuse or can I? Thought so. Okay, long story short, the zombies have a special zombie vision and they can heal themselves by eating us and the more they eat the stronger they get and the smarter they get and the smarter ones can control the not so smart ones by using some kind of zombie mind control and... And did I leave anything out?"

"Sí."

"Oh, right, how could I forget the best part? If you look at what the TV, on the CNN, they said when everything started, Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, Dallas, Denver all had zombies, all major cities in the US. And get this people in Frank-German-furt, Beijing, China, Sidney, Buenos Aires, and who the fuck else knows where else had 'em too. Hell even places in Africa were reporting cases of the creepy-crawlies. Why? If you were lab guy turned zombie and wanted to share your zombie disease with the world would you start in Laramie, Wyoming? Heck no, you'd hit the major cities where all the folks are. One turns into two, two turns into four and so on. Next thing you know you've got yourself a zombie army, kind of like that pyramid scheme that guy tried to convince us to join, remember that Juan?"

"Sí."

"So, there you have it, some guy in a white lab coat forgot to wash out a beaker or something and now we have zombies with super powers trying to take a bite out of everyone and their mother. This coffee, it is good an' all, but you got any cold beer?"

Juan leaned over and spoke rapidly in Spanish into Hank's ear. "Ah no Juan is right, no drinkin' until the day is done, and we got a whole walk in cooler filled with beer anyway. So what is your plan then?"

Chapter 42

The night passed painfully slow. Amelia had pushed almost all of the furniture in front of the hotel room door, other than the beds. She drew the curtains closed across the balcony door and allowed Cory to only use a flashlight or play his GameBoy in the corner of the room or in the bathroom, where no light would be reflected to the windows. She hoped she was being cautious enough. Cory eventually dropped off to sleep beside her on 'his' bed, the kid was a heater, and the eighty degree room was almost unbearable even without a heat generating child who constantly seemed to be trying to attach himself to her back.

During the night, she was awakened several times to Diane's moans of pain. Diane seemed to drift in and out of consciousness and the water and food Amelia pushed on her did not seem to help. Her arms were puffy, with streaks of pink and red running up from where the bites were. Every time Amelia checked, Diane's arms looked worse.

At five am, Diane seemed to regain herself and called out, "Amelia!"

Waking from her dozing Amelia rushed to Diane side, stumbling over Cory's open suitcase and shoes.

"I am here, Diane!"

"Amelia, I am dying."

"No, no, Diane, you will be fine."

"Amelia, don't. I am too old and we both know what is going on."

Amelia started to sob, quietly.

"Hey, cut it out young lady, I only get to do this once and I don't want you to mess it up by being hysterical the last few hours of my life."

Amelia pulled herself together, blew her nose into a tissue and tried to put on a better face for Diane. Despite her hounding Cory earlier to keep the lights off in the main room, she turned on her flashlight, keeping most of the glow covered with her fingers before turning to have a look at Diane. What she saw was ghastly, Diane was a pale, sweaty white; the painful red streaks up her arms contrasted sharply against her white skin and disappeared up past where her blouse covered her shoulders. Looking at Amelia Diane sighed heavily, "I haven't got long now, do I? I keep thinking, what if I had done something differently, defended myself instead of vomiting comes to mind, I should have done anything but that. It is foolish you know, what is done is done and, unfortunately, I cannot undo it. So what do you do? I am going to die and I bet when I go I will turn into one of them, after all I am dying because one of 'em bit me. So I think you and the boy need to go, get into another room at least, okay?"

"Diane, I...can't just...leave you here alone! I mean that would not be, that would be, not right!"

"Shush up, don't say that, things have changed and leaving the room of a woman who is going to be a zombie very soon is the 'right' thing to do. Unless you want to either, kill me now or risk me getting up and getting you and the boy. What other choices is there dearie?"

"I, I should have brought you to a hospital or a doctor!"

Diane made a pooh-poohing sound and said, "No, there is not anyone. We drove through most of the city the only people still around are keeping their heads down. What are the odds of finding a doctor? None, we both know it, a hospital? Yeah, more like an easy target for the hordes to snag some easy food. Don't feel guilty about anything we did good, you and I, and you have nothing to be ashamed of or sorry for. But now, you have to go. After looking at your face I don't think I even have those few hours left that I thought I had."

Amelia made as if to protest again, but Diane cut her off, "Amelia, you need to go. Don't argue, don't fight it, and don't even rationalize it, just go. Now. Please?"

Nodding _'yes'_ Amelia started to gather up the few things she had, making sure to get the keys to the Cadillac. After moving the furniture away from the door as quietly as she could she took a backpack that was obviously Cory's and stuffed it full things she thought he would need. Amelia was amazed at how small some of his stuff was, his whitey-tighties were laughably tiny, the t-shirts and shorts mere weightless-space-less scraps of clothing. This was not entirely true, of course; soon his entire pack was full with about all the clothing she could find for him. As for Cory he was asleep, he had thrown the covers off and was lying in an over-sized shirt and underwear, legs askew and arms wide open, one hand still clutching his GameBoy, his injured arm tightly gripping a blanket in a closed fist.

Amelia tentatively pulled the GameBoy from one hand and the blanket from his other, stashing the GameBoy into the top of his pack. She slung his backpack over her shoulder and didn't know whether to take pride or be humiliated by the fact that a ten-year-old boy's backpack fit over her shoulder without adjusting the straps. She half bent over the bed and lifted Cory up into a carrying position, he was far lighter than she had imagined and seemed to 'fit' and carry just fine. Amelia flashed the light back to Diane, who waved her off, making pushing gestures towards the door.

Looking back only once more, Amelia eased the door open and stepped once again into the hallway. Cautiously she checked the hallway both directions, and thankfully, it was empty. Amelia had her hands full of small boy and flashlights and realized the best she could have managed would have been a lumbering shuffle if anything had been waiting for her. She made her way to the stairwell she and Diane had come up and after a few minutes, she was back at the car. Amelia set her flashlight down on the hood and used her now free hand to pull out the car keys, pressing the button on the remote she unlocked the doors and put Cory into the passenger seat. After stowing the rest of the stuff in the back seat, she moved around to the driver's side, climbed in and started the car. The parking lot lights were still on and she decided to try and not call attention to herself by driving as far as she could without the lights on. As soon as she stopped, she realized the brake lights still lit when she stopped, so she decided to drive, very, very slowly and use the brakes as little as possible.

As she crept back onto the highway, Amelia hoped someone was home at Max's house and she hoped there was a spare bedroom where she could crash. The next exit was 'Youngsfield' and if Amelia remembered right it was not the exit she wanted, preferably she would take the Kipling exit, but she would settle for getting off at Ward road too. Of course, everything could connect via the side streets - in addition, it would just take longer.

As she passed the Youngsfield exit Amelia saw a large wreck at the bottom of it near where the highway turned into a street. A similar wreck was up ahead at the on ramp. Amelia saw a few shady looking people sitting near the on ramp, close to a gap between several wrecked cars; they saw Amelia creeping along and waved for her to pull over. Amelia waved back and hit the accelerator, preferring not to make any new friends just now. As she sped by, she heard them lighting off fireworks, only a second later she realized they were firing guns at her car! She tried to veer left then right to throw off their aim and while she might have been successful, it may have just been bad aim on the part of the men that caused them to miss. However, the jostling woke up Cory and he gave her a series of looks, first of fear, then of recognition, then one of 'where the hell are we?' After getting his bearings he asked, "What happened? Where is Diane?"

"Diane didn't make it honey, we took the car and left, we are trying to find my friend Max's house, he has kids about your age."

"Did you bring my stuff?" he asked.

"Yep sure did kiddo, it is in the back seat."

Cory unstrapped his seatbelt and lurched ass end up over the front seat to grab his backpack. After going through it he seemed satisfied with everything in the back, then looked again, stopped looked around on the floor and was obviously searching for something.

"What Cory? What is it? What did I forget?"

"You didn't bring my shoes!"

"Ah, no they must be there someplace, look again." Still even as she said it, Amelia could picture them in her mind's eye sitting in the closet near the door. ' _Shoot_.', she thought followed by, ' _Is this really that big of deal? Well maybe he is a kid and maybe his mom bought them for him or something._ '

After he finished looking again, Cory said, "No shoes, not in the car, unless they fell under the seats, sometimes that happens."

"Well, uh, if I forgot is that okay? I mean it is summer and everything right now, I am sure shoes are more of a hassle for you than...."

"What if we have to go into a restaurant or a store? You have to wear shoes in stores. It's the law! The police will arrest me!" Cory wailed.

"Hey, hey, settled down, no big deal, the police won't arrest you right now, they know how things are all messed up and everything."

"No! We have to go back and get my shoes!"

Amelia thought about it and there was no way she was running the gauntlet of those men at the Youngsfield exit again, who knows what they wanted? Remembering the layout of Arvada a little she recalled there was a Target store just off Kipling and if that didn't work out there was a K-mart a bit further down the road, she thought there might be a shoe store or two in there somewhere as well.

"Okay, Cory, calm down, I have an idea, alright? I know where we can get you new shoes, okay? I could use another pair myself, maybe tennis shoes for both of us, alright? You seriously won't get in trouble for going into the stores barefoot anymore either, the laws have changed honey and no one is going to care what people have on anymore. We'll stop right up here and get us both some new shoes."

As she sped past the Ward Road exit, she was relieved to see that the road looked clear up to the Kipling exit, a few minutes later she was exiting on Kipling and turning left under the highway to go north. Three blocks beyond that she pulled up into a shopping center along the side of the road, there was one super Target store and several smaller strip mall outlets. Amelia eventually stopped outside a "Two For Twenty" shoe store, which might not have the best brands available, but would definitely have shoes for both her and Cory. She could see into the front of the Target store from where she was at and it looked ominous. She was not sure, was that something moving she spied from within the big box store? The "Two for Twenty's" front door had been forced open, leaving a large swath of glass around the front entrance. Amelia spied a rack full of flip-flops not too far in from the front door, discounted to a mere three for ten dollars, excellent Amelia always liked sales. The lights were on in the place making it a beacon in the surrounding darkness and the place looked empty.

"Look kiddo we gotta make this quick okay, we get in, we grab some shoes our size and we get out. First thing we do is get to that round rack of flip-flops and you put a pair on, I will carry you over the broken glass by the front door. Got it? Cory. Cory listen, if we see any zombies, any zombies at all, you run back to the car and yell loud enough for me to hear you okay? You got it?"

"Okay Amelia, I am not a baby! We go get flip-flops first."

"Okay good and you yell if any zombies come close. Okay do you know what size shoe you wear?"

"Uh, six?"

"You don't know, huh? No big deal buddy, it is more of a mom thing anyway, I think. We will just try on a couple pair until we get the ones we need. Ready?"

Cory nodded ' _yes_ ' and Amelia stepped outside of the car and waited until he scrambled up into her arms, she hefted him with her left arm and reached in and pulled out her trusty fire-poker, which had served her so well in the hotel. Fully prepared she cast a quick look around and seeing no zombies she trotted into the "Two for Twenty" after scrambling over the broken glass she set Cory down and they both approached the flip-flop rack. Amelia pulled the tags off a few that looked to be Cory's size and waited while he tried them on, a size three, not that flip-flops were any good judge of size, and they still gave her a ballpark to work with. She hustled him down the 'boys' aisle and when they got there she raised her hands in front of her face in a 'shhh-ing' motion, they waited and listed. Hearing nothing Amelia whispered, "What kind do you want? Tennis shoes okay? Or hiking shoes, or both."

Cory pointed out several styles and Amelia threw the boxes onto the floor, three seemed to be spot on for size inside of two minutes they had three pair of shoes picked out for him, a pair of 'swim shoes', tennis shoes and a pair of ankle-high hiking boots. Amelia made Cory put on the tennis shoes and carry the other shoes, insisting he take the flip-flops too. Then they moved over to woman's footwear and Amelia chose a pair style of tennis shoes she wanted, then grabbed her size, a half size smaller and a half size bigger then made for the front door. Along the way, they stopped to grab two bags of boy's socks and Amelia picked out half a dozen pair of women's socks as well, she was a bit low on clothing. Amelia always thought it was hilarious that boys bought socks by the bag and girls by the pair. They moved quickly out the front door and Amelia pulled up short seeing two zombies on the passenger's side, across the car from where she and Cory now stood.

"Cory!" she whispered, "Get low and crawl into the car!" Surprisingly he quickly dropped immediately to his hands and knees favoring his uninjured arm made his way to the vehicle. While he did this Amelia made as if to run around the front of the car, leading the zombies to that side, then feinted and ran towards the back of the car, the zombies, not quite to the front edge of the bumper started moving around to the back end instead to cut Amelia off. Amelia then took six big steps forward and into the car, barely missing Cory's leg as he pulled himself all the way into the passenger's seat. She slammed her door shut, put the keys in the ignition and drove away, catching one zombie on the rear bumper, however even that was not hard enough to made it lose its balance or fall over. _'That was close!'_ She thought looking in the rear view mirror.

"Amelia!" shouted Cory, peering out the front windshield.

Whipping her head around she spotted a mob of zombies coming out of the Target store, some were very fast, others carried bats and sticks, a few even had lamps or other household furnishing to use as impromptu weapons. Amelia swerved the car down a parking lot lane and put the mob of unruly zombies behind her. Turning north back onto Kipling she made her way past the K-mart, the lot there was filled with roving undead, they looked up at the car as it passed, two blocks away, but none of them headed towards her. Amelia kept going into greater suburbia until she reached the cross street that she knew would take her to Max's house. He lived in an established neighborhood, the trees were all fully-grown, and it looked like a nice place to raise a family. A few more turns and one mistaken drive around the block brought her outside of the house numbers that were printed on the sheet of paper she had taken from the MAC Corporation lobby the day before.

"This is it buddy, we are here."

"This is it? I don't see anybody?"

"Uh, they are probably hiding, we need to go up and tell them we are here."

"Amelia, the door is open. I don't think anyone is here."

Sure enough, Amelia examined the house closer and noticed the front door was ajar. This was not good. Max was supposed to BE here, with his wife and kids and they were going to save Amelia, Cory, and Diane!

"Amelia? What's wrong? Why are you crying?" asked Cory.

Amelia looked at him and smiled through her tears, "Dude, we got those shoes and you are barefoot again?"

He looked at her a moment and then started scrambling around for his shoes, "Yeah, my mom, she said not to wear sneakers without socks, I took them off to put on my socks and then you started crying and, I am sorry Amelia, I'll put them back on if you will stop crying."

"No-no Cory I am not crying about your shoes kiddo, it is, this!" she waved at the house, "Max and his family are supposed to be here, it is not supposed to be like this, empty and dead. They were supposed to be here!"

"Well are you sure they are not here? Maybe they are hiding? We have to go look. Let's go!" with that Cory popped open the passenger's side door and started walking up to the front door, still barefoot Amelia noticed. She called out softly, "Wait for me buddy! I am right behind you!" then grabbed the fire poker and went into Max's house.

Chapter 43

Sarah was frantic. It had been more than twenty-four hours and she had not heard from Max. The worst part had not been hiding in the attic all day and night nor was it the discomfort of having to stay up in the rafters amongst all the insulation and Christmas decorations, no; the worst was simply not knowing what was going on. All day she and the kids had to listen as 'things' happened in the neighborhood around them, could they have helped? If the druggies or terrorists had been stoppable, wouldn't the police have been able to bring them to justice by now? Finally, on one of her frequent bathroom breaks down the ladder, Sarah had ventured into the garage and gotten a few supplies to make their lives more livable, both on the practical side and on the mental comfort side of things. First she gathered up six of the long boards Max was going to use to make the bookshelves in the basement 'someday', these would spread across the rafters and give them an easier place to perch up in the attic. Secondly, she grabbed an extension cord Max used to plug in his tools in the garage, it was a heavy-duty model that plugged into one outlet, but had three plug-ins for his tools on the other end. Finally, she also grabbed his wind up combination light/radio that she and the kids had just given him on the last Father's Day. In the house, she told her daughter to grab a bag and throw in the bread, peanut butter and the =six-pack of juice. She had her son take up a stack of paper plates and a knife for the peanut butter, as she hustled the kids up into the attic again she pondered getting the gun in the wall safe.

' _No._ ' Sarah told herself, ' _That is not the answer. Besides Max has the only available key._ '

She did, however grab two more bats from Max's collection, she just grabbed the loose ones, what he would call the 'better than average' signed bats, not one of those off of his wall of fame.

Heading back into the attic she made the kids a modest lunch and then set about arranging the environment to be more usable. She set five of the six shelves up across some of the unoccupied rafters, thankfully, Max had put up several boards to hold their holiday decorations and as this was an emergency, she just dumped them in the insulation, making more room for the three of them. With the kids on the new platform she had created, she turned back to the other miscellaneous junk stored in their attic. She picked out the fan and one of the old lamps and plugged them into the extension cord before turning to plug the extension cord into the outlet Max had an electrician put in when they re-designed their kitchen two years ago. It had caused an argument at the time, why put an outlet in the attic? However, Max had won that one, saying it could be used to run electricity to the outside Christmas lights and if they ever needed a plug in up here for a fan or AC unit, they would have one. Sarah was glad now that she had lost that fight, as the much more modest fan than Max had imagined came to life circulating the stale air around them.

That done, she warned the kids to play quietly and started cranking the radio unit the required fifty five times in order to get the advertised forty five minutes of power. Turning it on, she started the slow hunt for news. The radio was not digital, it had no search function and she kept the volume low to keep the kids from hearing any of the bad news that she might catch. It ended up being a search of futility; she found several stations still playing music, with commercials and no disc jockeys, obviously canned stations still running on automatic. Sitting the radio down Sarah crept along the rafters to the front vent that was cut into the outer wall below the roof line, when she looked down she would see a section of her driveway and with a little straining she could make out part of the street too.

Sarah looked at the vent closely and decided that being able to see out was pretty damn important, so she grabbed one of the wooden vent pieces and started twisting it upwards to make a straight slot instead of a downward pointing vent. That done she could at least have a limited view of the houses and street around her house, better still she could bend the piece back pretty easily too, the nails seemed to yield in the old wood effortlessly. ' _Probably dry rot._ ', she mused, ' _I will have to get Max to look into that when this current emergency is over._ '

As Sarah looked out the slot, she had made into the street she watched 'One of them' walking or stumbling rather, across the street. This was not working out; she could not stay up in the attic all day and all night, for how long? Days? She called Max. Nothing.

Part of her died each time she tried to contact him and he did not answer. This time around she was hit with guilt, where was he? Dead? Dying? Obviously, this was a major catastrophe, not some run of the mill suicide bombing that had become all too common recently. Oh God! Here she was crying about staying hidden in the attic while her Max was out dying on a street corner somewhere! She shut the cell phone down to save power and went back to the radio. Eventually she found a station that called the terrorists 'Zombies' not, terrorists. It said she had to bash their heads in, just to be sure and that the 'zombies' were pretty much immune to most other damage. As she listened, people called in and added their reports to the DJ's growing list of 'how to deal with this threat'. Supposedly, he, the DJ, was the last survivor at his radio station and he seemed to feel it was only a matter of time until he succumbed to the 'horde'. Sarah found the station in poor taste and while she could not bring herself to believe what the man was saying, she did not find any alternative stations to listen to either. Eventually the radio wound down and she chose not to listen anymore.

Near sundown, Sarah hustled the kids downstairs again to use the bathroom and get ready for bed. She scanned the street again carefully and only let the kids use the upstairs bathroom while she stood watch over the hallway and stairs with her trusty baseball bat. No problems. They even ate in the master bedroom instead of in the attic. While they ate, Sarah tried the cable channels. This was a revelation, most channels were off the air and Sarah could not help but think of the old adage, 'Three hundred channels and nothing is on', that stopped when she hit the news channels. Nothing could have prepared her for what she was seeing. New York, Beijing, Moscow, Buenos Aires, Houston, Denver, LA, Seattle, Tokyo, the list of cities scrolled on and on, every place that was anyplace looked to have been hit. Live footage was rampant on some of the channels and what she saw disgusted her. Sarah sent the kids back into the attic at sundown, with instructions to go to sleep if they could. She pulled the heavy drapes tightly closed, kept the bedroom door open and watched until she could stand it no more. Everything was lost, everything. This was the end of civilization; nothing would ever be the same again. People had come to life as flesh eating zombies.

No thoughts of Max entered her mind as she helplessly wondered, "What can I do? What can I do?"

Chapter 44

Max was ready to try the light rail tracks, anything to get home to his wife and kids. Juan and Hank were going to take the doctor and nurse up to the warehouse store where their own family and friends were holed up and form some sort of enclaves to protect themselves. At first, they were insistent that Max go with them, but eventually they understood that he had to go find out about his family. As for the warrior kids, they too, had their own way to go and nothing any of the adults could say would deter them. From Max's point of view, the kids wanted to do the same thing he did; check on their families, save them if they could. Stewart let Michael keep the revolver Max had taken off the man from the apartment, Tom handed his pistol over to another one of the kids as well. With two guns and their hand-to-hand weapons, the kids at least stood a chance, plus they had experience going for them, they knew what to expect. Max and his group would be leaving first; today in fact to try to make it to Max's house by the evening, the rest, well it was obvious to everyone that the wounded boy, Jacob, was going to die. Nothing the doctor did for him worked. The rest of the group was simply waiting on death to collect yet another soul before they moved on.

Once Stewart had the car loaded and ready to go, with another spare taken from a compatible car, the two groups looked at each other and said their goodbyes.

"Hank, Juan, we will try to make our way to your warehouse once we get my wife, we know where you are holed up at." Hank, nodded.

Juan, answered with his characteristic 'Sí', his face full of worry he added, "Vaya con Dios." And made a sort of cross in the air over Max.

Turning to Michael and Whitney, Max said, "You guys stay safe, there is not much I can say to you, just stay safe and keep the kids safe. I know you will so this is useless advice." Max shrugged, "Pointless huh? I wish we could all stay together, we can't though; everything needs to be done right now, so we can salvage what we can." Looking at everyone they were leaving behind, Max wondered if he would see any of them again. He had a strong urge to give up going after his family and just join with the group, guilt at that thought forced him to smile and get in the car. As he waved goodbye to the others he thought of something he had heard not too long ago, 'Duty compels'. All the people involved seemed to have a duty of some sort to attend to and they were all doing it until it was proven to each of them that their obligations no longer existed.

Tom, Stewart and even Steve were going to go with Max, they vowed to see this through to the end and to the end, and they would see it.

"You know," Max began as Stewart drove to the closest light rail station, "I feel like I am making a bad decision here, maybe we should stay?"

Steve laughed, "Not hardly. You know how pissed off Sarah would be if you did not come to get her? I have had to listen to you vent about her spats of anger the last three years, something like this, well Max, it could destroy a marriage." Tom and Stewart, simply added their _"no's"_ to staying, agreeing that they had to see it through, with Stewart adding, "We can always come back, if this works out it won't be that hard to get back here. Besides, I think we might need Hank's help to get those plows at some point anyway. I am more worried about Michael and Whitney."

Max turned his face to the window and said softly, "Yeah, me too."

The light rail was a good idea, the group made more progress in an hour than they had the previous day. They came across a problem only a half hour into their trip there were numerous bridges over streams, roads and bike paths, which the car could navigate, but over the Platte River, there was a problem. The bridge was fine, however a light rail car sat upon it, and there were people in the car. It looked like they were human, they had one door forced open and were using it to go in and out as Max watched. They carefully edged along the tracks, thirty feet above the river below and came within reach of the police car. One man approached while three others looked around for zombies and covered him, all the men had rifles. As the man got near the car he called out, "What do you think you are doing?"

Stewart, who had rolled her window down, called back, "We are trying to get through to the station in Arvada."

"Power's off, the cars don't move anymore, we pushed this one up here after disabling the brakes. The zombies have a hard time getting to us, we can see the better ones and pick them off, and the slower ones tend to fall into the river."

"Yeah, good thinking, the heat has to be killing you though. We'll go around, take a side street back over to get rail line," said Stewart.

"There is another cross-over in about two blocks, if you can get to the rail beyond us anyway. That bridge is pretty clear." here the main pointed at a nearby traffic bridge, "Can you get the car off the tracks?"

"Ah, yeah probably." turning to Tom and Steve, Stewart said, "Could you guys get out and pile gravel up alongside the tracks so we can hop the car over them easier? Max you stay in the car with your gun drawn, in case these guys are not as friendly as they look."

The man with the rifle stayed about twenty feet away and watched as Steve, Tom and eventually Stewart shifted the heavy railroad rocks up along the tracks, making an impromptu crossing, eventually satisfied Stewart was able drive the squad car off the rail lines, over a curb and onto the street. Once Steve and Tom were back in the car, they merely waved to the men with the rifles and headed towards the bridge. A few blocks up, they were able to get back onto the tracks where they crossed a road, resuming their bumpy trip.

Along the way, Max asked about Steve's sister, she was the next person they were supposed to have gone after.

"We checked yesterday while you were out. Nobody." said Steve curtly.

"Nobody? That is good, it means she got away."

"Well her house was empty, not broken into or anything, she might have made it."

Tom, riding in back with Max leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Steve's upset. She didn't call him or anything, so either she is dead or she didn't give enough of a shit about him to check on him. Either way..." Tom let his sentence trail off. Steve looked ahead stonily, not indicating he had heard anything.

Max thought about it for a moment and decided that there really was not anything he could say that wouldn't make things worse, so he kept his mouth shut and watched the houses for zombies.

The rest of the trip was easier going, in fact, Max was growing more anxious, and they could have made the trip the first day if he hadn't been shot! Stewart had opted not to follow the light rail into Arvada, but then the street started looking clearer so she pulled off onto one where the street crossed over the light rail. This turned out to be a good decision, the back streets were passable and they made better time in the early morning light. Along the way, they spotted several zombies near the road and Max had the impression more were hidden among the strip malls and convenience stores they passed. He felt like he was sensing them where they remained hidden and could tell when their eyes were upon him. Soon enough the group was turning onto the street that led to Max's house.

Chapter 45

Nancy smiled in anticipation upon hearing Jimbo's report: Nobody was home at Max's house. This could be a case of the wife and kids hiding really well, heck the doors were still shut and probably locked, or the bitch could simply have taken her brood over to her mom's to hide out. Getting in and checking the garage would let them know they might have hiders, maybe not though. Max struck Nancy as a kind of family guy, the kind who worked to live, not lived to work. Probably he had bought a house in the same neighborhood either he or his wife grew up in, probably within walking distance of the nearest family member. Still they would check the house over good when they got inside and anyone left would be zombified.

"Is that all Jimbo?" Nancy asked him, as she and the girls stood around in a semi-circle listening to his report.

"Eh, well mostly. It looks like some zombies have kind of been through here already; I did not see any sign of life and plenty of signs of death. Max's house looks pretty clean, like no one was there from the get-go."

"Did you try the doors? Look in the garage?" pressed Nancy

"Ah forget it Nancy," interrupted Veronica, "we told him not to do that stuff, I am just amazed that he got back to us so quickly at all, plus he is not your lackey, or mine, let him do his job as he thinks best. I still say we should have given him one of the ones we picked up along the way."

"What? No, no, I don't need any help right now, I think we need to make the 'military' as strong as possible first then, worry about getting the executive a helper, then me, then Julie." said Jimbo.

Along the way to Max's house the group had grown from a group of five, plus Jimbo's hidden 'agent' Bobby to a group of eleven, plus Bobby. The four main players, Nancy, Jimbo, Veronica and Trish were the only ones huddled at this meeting, Julie had become a fair administrator of the 'troops' and took her orders from Veronica as planned. Trish had risen to the occasion and become a sort of helper to Nancy, a vice president. Jimbo kept Bobby as a hidden resource, rationalizing that he was a spy and the other powers did not need to know 'how' he got things done - only that he did so. Jimbo felt the bond between him and Bobby was growing stronger, it was to the point that he could reach into Bobby's mind and tell him things without even having him in direct line of sight anymore. In fact, he could even sense Bobby's location now, he knew the boy was up on the roof half covered by the same pine tree that the rest of the group was clustered near, about eight houses down from Max's place. Not that Bobby needed to be close to hear, as far as Jimbo could tell the communication went both ways, right now Jimbo kept the line between them open, broadcasting everything to the boy.

"Yeah I am kinda getting dicked around on the assistant thing, I mean we got six new recruits and the armed forces got them all? It seems to me the balance of power is getting out of whack here." Nancy sent a barely perceptible scowl in Veronica's direction.

"Look Nancy we discussed it, you agreed, fucking move on with the past and concentrate on the task at hand. We are here because of you, we are doing what you wanted us to do and even you agreed we needed to bump up the ground forces a bit to deal with the gangs and humans roaming around. I have the people I need to take down one well-defended house, is it my fault there is no one to take down? We will learn from this experience and change our future responses accordingly." This was a rather long statement from Veronica, who Jimbo thought, was becoming the next Nancy of the group. She had insisted that only she and Julie make all the new zombies, so in theory the new recruits were all controlled by the armed forces.

What Jimbo suspected was that Julie was really not a factor in any of this. Last night Jimbo had kept an eye; or an eye of Bobby's, on Julie pretty, much at all times, she seemed like the weakest link and his observations only strengthened his convictions. Julie did nothing but take orders - she did not give any. Watching Veronica wash over the issue told Jimbo what kind of leader she might become. If she handled it internally and replaced Julie as her right hand man, well that would be good. If she continued to gloss over Julie's part in her 'army' and did not bring one of the new recruits up to fill the position that would be bad. Frankly, Jimbo didn't think Julie cared either way, he had her pegged as a zombie with a conscious and that the idea of what she had become was starting to wear on her. Would she, could she, kill herself? Even more reason to keep a set of eyes on her. The whole recruiting formula did not bother Jimbo at all either, he already had given Bobby instructions to grab any stray kids he found and 'make them his'. Kids worked better, you told them to do something, threw a video game at them and they did it. Of course, no new video games were being made and eventually Jimbo would run out of gifts. He shrugged, _'I don't need to worry about what happens in three years, and today is all that matters.'_

"What's that Jimbo?" asked Trish.

Jimbo, not realizing he had spoken aloud, quickly said, "I hope we are not close enough for anyone to hear and are we going to get to anything today that actually matters? C'mon, let's set up our crew, go in deal with the reality and not re-fight old battles. Again." Jimbo went on to curse himself quietly; he was going to have to watch that, his internal dialog was having a tendency to come out of his pie hole too damn often in the last twenty four hours. He quickly looked up to make sure he had not spoken anything else aloud.

Veronica nodded her agreement. "Yeah, yeah, smart man Jimbo, you are right we need to get set up and go in, it is what? Seven in the morning? As good a time as any to head in. I will have Julie take four of the troopers to cover the sides and rear of the house; I will go in the front with two others, when it is clear I will send one out to bring you guys in, fair enough?"

The other three leaders said yes or nodded their assent and Veronica went off to discuss things with Julie who started moving slowly into position around the sides and back of Max's house.

"Julie is going to be a problem," said Jimbo, not quite meaning to voice what he was thinking.

"No shit Sherlock, I guess you are a master spy after all. What can we do about it?" said Nancy.

"She is...apathetic. I think she was religious or something before, you know, before she changed. Not real religious, but kinda borderline, went to church sometimes and stuff. Now she can't resolve her old life with her new one. I think somebody should put her out of her misery and out of Veronica's." added Trish.

"Well traditionally the intelligence department was responsible for assassinations, or rumored to be. As the executive branch I guess it is within my authority to order you to take her out Jimbo, just do it in a way that suggests it was an accident, okay?"

Jimbo's laughter brought a fresh scowl to Nancy's face in response. "No fucking way am I going against 'V', you dumb bitch. She saved my fucking life and I won't cross her without a better reason than that. 'V' can handle the problem, and she has too, it is her person, her problem alone. You really want me removing one of your assistances if the rest of us say they need to go? No?" both women shook their heads 'no', Nancy with what seemed like regret, "That's what I thought. See? I am on board with Veronica's new reality. Nancy, we can make this work. You? You are lucky you got to stay around at all after the shit you were pulling. My advice to you deary is to start rowing with the team and making decisions to help us all out before there is say...a military coup."

The stunned look on Nancy's face made Jimbo feel all the better as he turned his back on her and glided off into the night. Bobby, being placed on the roof within listening range, was there to relay the rest of Trish and Nancy's conversation to Jimbo as he walked away.

"That son of a bitch! I will kill him Trish; kill him with my bare hands!"

"Yeah, he has huevos, don't he? Funny thing though, he is right, you know, you are isolating yourself and still behaving like a dictator, you need to start convincing us to be on your side, not expecting us to."

"Et tu, Brute? I should have expected..." began Nancy.

"See? Here we have the perfect opportunity to build a bridge when I criticize you and you are going to go off on me? What you should be doing is finding out what I want to be on 'your side'." At this point Trish moved up so her lips were right next to Nancy's, with Nancy's right next to her and whispered something even Bobby could not hear.

The next thing Bobby heard was Nancy's laughter followed by, "Is that all? Oh, God that is so fucking great. I think I will try working with you after all, my dearest ally."

The two women left the shelter of the pine tree to go and check out Max's house. Jimbo had worked his way across the street to watch Veronica enter with her =two-man crew. Julie had one zombie on each side of the house, and probably the rest were in back. As Jimbo watched, he saw a slight movement in the vent above the garage. _'Attic'_ , he thought, _'they are in the attic. I better make sure they are not touched before Max gets here.'_ He started across the street as the women began their assault on the front door, forcing it in quietly and entering into the house quickly.

Jimbo was about a dozen steps behind them and almost ran into Veronica near the front door.

"Well?" he whispered.

"Get out! We will tell you when it is clear, like I said!" she whispered harshly back.

"I am already in sweetie, I have a strong need to cover your ass and make sure absolutely nothing happens to you. Besides this place is empty, can't you see it?"

Veronica nodded, "Yeah, looks dead, you're right. Check the garage. I will help the girls prowl around."

"Ah no, reverse that the garage is probably safe, the house could contain unknowns, I don't want you getting shot." Amended Jimbo.

"Whatever." she replied as she headed towards the kitchen and the door to the garage.

Jimbo headed upstairs after nodding at both the zombie soldiers and saying, "Watch Veronica's back, I am going to check upstairs." He headed upstairs, made a show of searching the bedrooms and closets before stopping at the attic, it appeared to be a pull down ladder kind, and you just pulled the rope and the ladder unfolded into the hallway. Jimbo reached up quietly and grabbed the rope. As he tugged on the rope, he had to apply increasing force until it became apparent the ladder was being held in some way and would not open without breaking something. As he applied, one last pull the rope broke off and hit him in the face.

"Shit!" he said softly, wiping his hand across his forehead. "That hurt!" Jimbo had noticed that his sense of feeling was very sensitive lately, the slightest touch would create a sensational feeling that he had never gotten before he came back from the dead. _'Well that pretty much does it.'_ He thought, _'I think I can keep these guys alive for a while, now I have to spin this in the right way.'_ Jimbo went downstairs looking for Veronica. He found her in the kitchen.

"There is a mini-van in the garage, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Veronica replied.

"They are in the attic." He held out the broken rope for her to see, "They have it barricaded in some way, we can get up there, but it might take an effort. I don't see any reason to break in though, I mean, they are not going anywhere right? Let's just save them until we need them or until Max gets home."

"Maybe. Some of my people could use the boost. Any ideas of how many are up there? I already sent one of the troops after Nancy and Trish."

"Yeah three there was a bedroom for a girl and a boy and a master bedroom. The boy's room had a bunk bed, so there could be four. I think they are in the attic, I can kind of tell where they are, my vision is sharper when it comes to seeing the living now. Now about Nancy and Trish, we don't have much time, you need to know, and they are kinda of getting together, like a political alliance. Nancy is going to do something for Trish and I am not sure what. They wanted me in, but did not try very hard, I firmly came down on your side of things, so, I guess what I am saying is for my support I need you to watch my back, okay? Also, you gotta do something very soon about Julie. Very soon."

Veronica stood there for a second, absorbing what Jimbo had said, before nodded, "You got it, I watch your back, you watch mine. You are getting the next recruit, they don't have to know about it, but you are. I may need, I mean, 'we' may need you to have more resources. Here they come."

Jimbo and Veronica were standing quietly in the kitchen when Trish and Nancy came in.

"So the gangs all here, at least the important members anyway. What's the story V, is the place clear?"

"No they are some living in the attic, we don't know how many, they are barricaded in." Veronica said. Jimbo marveled at her control, she was not giving anything away in her mannerisms in her speech to Nancy now.

"Well V, let's go see this attic and decide what to do."

The four of them headed up the stairs and Jimbo showed them the broken rope and pointed out the attack opening to them in the twilight of the pre-dawn morning.

"Get 'em out, I say." said Trish, "Just like we agreed."

"Yep, it is chomping time, it is high time for the executive and judicial branches to get some support, and you too Jimbo, if there are three." said Nancy.

"I want to wait," said Veronica, "They are not going anywhere and if Max gets here and is stronger than we think, well, they might prove to be a good bargaining chip to get our shit out of the fire. Plus, we don't really need any food just yet. So, I say we save them until we need them. If Max does not show in a day or so we go in after them, no sense in letting the meat spoil, right?" said Veronica.

Nancy replied, "Not how we agreed to do things V, not at all what I was thinking. Jimbo?"

Jimbo seemed to think it over for a bit, as the three women looked at him, "You know I was kinda looking forward to a new recruit or two- myself, but Veronica seems to make sense, what is another day or two, we can scrounge for other refugees in the neighborhood if we get hungry...."

"Dammit, I want a little old fashioned revenge on Max, what about that? Let's pull 'em down and dispense a little justice!"

"We don't need 'em Nancy! Justice can be served later, why rush things?"

Nancy seemed to think this over for moment, and then looked up at the ceiling. The changes that had happened to her had sharpened her vision to the point where she could see the glowing pattern of a living person even through thin walls. Up above her she noticed the flowing lines of a living being just to one side of the attic access. "Well so we don't open up the door then?"

Jimbo and Veronica nodded but Trish just scowled. Nancy sighed, nodded her head and leaped upwards driving her hand through the ceiling drywall to grasp what she thought was the leg of someone she presumed to be Max's wife. A bit of chaos ensued as Jimbo grabbed Nancy's leg and tried to pull her down from the ceiling. Sarah started screaming as her leg was pulled through the ceiling, which woke the kids up. They immediately stumbled over the ceiling rafters to pull ineffectively at their mom's arms as she tried to lever herself up out of the hole that was forming in the weakened drywall between two of the rafters. Underneath Trish punched Jimbo, dazing him, yet he held onto Nancy, Veronica hesitated for an instant before coming to Jimbo's aid by tackling Trish, the two of them tumbled down the nearby stairs at the same time that Jimbo took another blow to the face from one of Nancy's kicks. The blow was hard enough to dislodge his grasp from her other leg and left him sprawled with his head and shoulders through the bottom part of the bathroom door. Cursing he struggled to get free of the hollow core door and stop Nancy, he was too late and he could only watch as Nancy, hands wrapped around a woman's leg bent her head over and took a meaty bite just above the knee.

The woman screamed as Jimbo jumped up, Nancy let go of the leg, which disappeared quickly into the ceiling with a shower of insulation and broken drywall. Nancy, of course, landed on her feet, then looked at Jimbo and laughed, saying, "See? I didn't open the door."

Infuriated Jimbo just looked at her, "You selfish..." He turned away to compose himself and then received a mental message from Bobby, "A woman and a boy just pulled up and got out of their car, they are heading up to the house now."

"What? What Jimbo? Nothing to say?" taunted Nancy. Then she heard the front storm door creaking open and a woman's voice call out, "Hold up Cory, you don't know what is in there, wait for me."

Chapter 46

Cory reached the door first and had it half opened when Amelia warned him to wait for her. He paused at the door and looked back at her when the zombie woman appeared behind him, and then instantly behind her another woman appeared.

"Cory run!" she screamed at him as she stepped up with her trusty fire poker. Cory, however did not run, he ducked and side stepped off Max's porch, the zombie grabbing for him missed and screamed at him. Amelia's rush put her into swinging range and her first blow caught the zombie above the eyes, almost dead on with the front of her half turned forehead. The poker smashed in easily and the zombie collapsed.

"Oh God! I hope that wasn't Max's wife!" she yelled to Cory who was getting back to his feet while Amelia backed away from the front door. Glancing at the boy she saw that he was fine and then shifted her eyes again to the front door, she did a double take and stammered, "How? What...how. How did you get here?" at the figure who had appeared on the other side of Max's storm door.

Nancy smiled at her and said, "Well, well, look what the cat drug back to us! So you and Max hooked up huh?" Calling over her shoulder, she said to an unseen person, "V, it is Amelia from work! Yeah again! Tell Julie to move the troops around, looks like Amelia took one of your recruits down too." Then back to Amelia, she said, "You know when you got away I really did not think you would make it far. Where is Max?"

"Max?" Amelia stammered, her spirits sinking, "He is not here? Cory get in the car, quick!"

A zombie raced out from the far side of the house, not at Amelia or Cory, but to place himself between them and the car. Cory took a few steps towards the car, and then another zombie appeared on his side of the house, "Amelia! There are more of them!" Cory backed away from the zombie; unfortunately, he was also backing away from Amelia, which left her effectively surrounded by them with Cory outside the circle.

"Give it up deary, I think we have you surrounded, tell the boy to stop and we will make it easy for you. Jimbo, I took the last one, you can have this one, she's even pretty, you'll like her." said Nancy, as she stepped through the door outside.

"Never! Run Cory!" Amelia stepped up and swung at Nancy with all her might. Nancy raised her arm and tried to catch the fire poker, however Amelia had learned to expect such defensive reactions in the last few days of fighting and at the last minute, she lowered the poker to hit Nancy in the lower leg, with a sickening crack Nancy went down. Nancy screamed and grabbed her leg with both hands as another zombie Amelia recognized stepped over her, 'V', Nancy had called her. "C'mon V, that is your name right? Just let us get out of here. Please." Amelia begged.

"Fucking crucify her 'V', no getting away for her, I want her dead! That bitch broke my fucking leg!" frothy spittle sprayed out of Nancy mouth as she screamed.

Veronica never took her eyes off Amelia, "If things were different maybe I could do that, things have changed, we need food now. Well now, that Nancy is wounded and needs to heal up. Sorry, it is nothing personal. I won't let them eat the boy though, when we catch him. And we will."

Amelia looked around and sure enough Cory had bolted like she said, the zombie on that side of the house was returning, getting back into position as if he had tried to chase the boy down and then given up.

"Then there is nothing I can do." Amelia heard herself say, after that, she let out a cry of rage and swung at Veronica, deliberately pulling her blow back and then edging forward, which caused Veronica's blocking arm to miss. The blow took Veronica in the middle of her chest and ripped into her white blouse, though her blouse and skin, lodging as near as Amelia could tell in her right breast. Veronica gasped, tried to grab the fire poker and swung her right hand at Amelia ineffectively before stumbling to her knees. Amelia didn't stop, she edged past Veronica and jumped over Nancy's legs as she leaped into the house, barreling into Jimbo, Jimbo wrapped his arms around Amelia, trying to get a good hold on her. "Stop fighting, I'm gonna let you go, get up into the attic if you can." the wriggling human woman, didn't stop fighting and Jimbo let her go, she did, however, run up the stairs when he released her, dropping the fire poker onto the floor.

"You fucking let her go Jimbo!" screamed Nancy from on the front porch.

"Yeah, I did." said Jimbo, not bothering to add the 'fuck you' to his reply. "Where is she gonna go Nancy? She's stuck just like poor Max's wife and we can take them anytime we need to."

Chapter 47

Pain, that was all there was, pain. Sarah grasped her leg and tried to stem the bleeding, one of the kids handed her a towel and she pressed it against the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. She should never have moved over by the attic door to try to listen to what they were saying, who knew that they could jump so high and tear through a ceiling as if it was paper.

Tears were streaming down her face when she heard the woman below begging for help. Leaning over and clearing insulation out of the way, she saw a young woman down below with a pleading look on her face.

"Please! Please help me! Let me into the attic, I haven't been bit, I'm not a zombie."

A chill went down Sarah's spine. _'Bit? Bit? Was she bit? Oh God!'_ She had thought one of them had stabbed her, lifting the towel she examined the wound closely while the woman continued pleading below. One edge of her wound clearly showed a jagged incision made by human teeth.

"What do you mean you're not bitten?" Sarah yelled through the hole, "What difference does biting make?"

"It is...I'm not one of them, let me up, please!" Amelia begged looking behind her; she saw Jimbo and Veronica bodily in front of Nancy preventing her from coming up the stairs. Veronica had Amelia's poker and was waving it in Nancy's face as they argued. "Please, she is going to get up here and there is nowhere else I can go!"

"What do you mean about the biting?!" Sarah demanded once again.

"It is, well, they bite you, which is how it happens, how you turn into one of them."

"Oh God. Oh no-no-no!"

"You were bitten?" Amelia called up.

"No-no-no!" as she sobbed she pushed the two by four that had been blocking the attic access and the ladder swung down to Amelia.

Amelia wasted no time scrambling up the ladder and pulling the door back closed behind her.

"When were you bit?" Amelia said.

Sobbing Sarah didn't answer. "When. Were. You. Bit?" Amelia asked again.

"Just now, just right now, they, one of them pulled my leg through the ceiling and bit into it."

"Okay, I was with this woman who got bitten, she, she lasted awhile, we might be able to get you some help if we can get past them." Amelia stopped, knowing, without outside help, they were not going to get by the zombies in the house.

Turning to the kids, she said, "Hi. What are your names? I am Amelia."

The kids, with pale tear stained faces looked well beyond scared, they mumbled their names, quietly. "It'll be alright, it will be okay, don't worry alright?" The lie sounded hollow even to Amelia as she spoke it. "Let's get your mom over there, on that piece of wood and away from this hole, okay?"

The kids helped her move Sarah to the plywood where they had been sleeping.

Chapter 48

Amelia said 'Run!' Cory ran. No way was he going to leave her though, no way at all. He doubled back around the house after running around the nearest corner, the zombie that had tried to chase him gave up really easily and Cory was now standing in what he thought was the backyard of the house behind the one he and Amelia had tried to go into. He saw two zombies in the backyard of Max's house, a girl and a slow moving guy. The guy started around the side of the house and Cory thought he could take out the girl on his own. He started climbing over the fence when a hand grabbed onto his ankle and pulled him back down into the backyard, towards a bushy evergreen tree. Cory struggled to grab something, anything to stop his journey; nonetheless, he ended up under the boughs of an evergreen tree, where he was unceremoniously flipped onto his back to look into his captors eyes.

"You're just a...you're just a kid!" Cory exclaimed.

The young man who had grabbed Cory, shrugged and said, "Don't go nowhere or I'll hafta whack 'ya." He then proceeded to sit down next to Cory, where upon he pulled a hand held electronic device out of his pants pocket and started playing it.

Cory sat for a few minutes thinking, they both started when they heard screams from in front of Max's house, but the other boy put his hand on Cory's wrist, as a reminder to stay put.

"I don't think they got her, sounds like they are screaming at each other." The boys eyes glazed over a little, though his hand did not leave Cory's wrist, his eyes regained their focus, "Oh yeah, she got away, they are fighting, she's in the house."

"How do you know that?"

The boy just looked at him and shook his head side to side, saying nothing. Again, Cory forced himself to think calmly, this kid was not normal, he knew that, the guy had barely struggled to get him off the fence and drag him under this bush.

"You're a...uh, I mean you are one of them? Right?" he asked tentatively. The other boy nodded _'yes'_ , but did not say anything. Curious, despite his situation, he sat up and tried to get a look at what the other boy was playing on his gaming device. "Is that 'Silent Hill'?"

Again the boy nodded _'yes'_ so Cory continued, "My mom wouldn't let me play that, she said it was too violent, I have a DS though it ain't out for that yet anyway."

"They don't make it for the DS; they only make games for little kids for that. I didn't get this until yesterday, I picked up a DS too, hardly had a chance to play anything until last night. My name is Bobby, what's yours?" said Bobby, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"Cory. Are you with them?"

"Yeah. No. Kinda. I am with Jimbo, and Jimbo is with them. It is complicated. I am like a 'field agent'. Jimbo says I am his secret weapon, his eyes and ears in the field. Like 'Ghost Recon' or something. All I know is I got a DS now too. It is in my bag. What happened to your shoes?"

"Ah, Amelia left them at the hotel room, there was this other lady, Diane, she got bitten and hurt real bad and started to turn into one of them, um, I mean one of you. We left in a hurry I guess and I was asleep. She remembered my games though. I have new shoes in the car," replied Cory. "So what is it like? You know, changing?"

Bobby put the game on pause and said, "Cold. Really cold, I kinda don't remember much about it, but I am always cold now, unless it is just after I eat, then I get warm for a while, I feel almost like I have the flu, unless I eat. Eating is pretty gross; I don't like it, even though it makes me feel better."

"Do you have to? I mean what happens if you stop or ate normal food?"

"I don't know you can do that when you turn. I think Jimbo wants another field agent."

"Oh." said Cory, "When?"

"Dunno, when he can sneak out, I think he wants to do it himself, you get something over anyone you make, so if I did you, you would kinda be mine, even though Jimbo has me, it would not really be the same as him having you too. Probably later this afternoon, maybe. He might not want another little kid. I dunno." Shrugging his shoulders, he went back to his game.

Thinking to himself about what to do Cory, came up with a plan, not much, but something. He scooted around to sit beside Bobby and stared intently at the screen for a while, watching him play. After a while Bobby hit a 'boss' monster and could not get by him, he turned to Cory and thrust the machine at him, "Your turn! Start a new guy though, don't use mine, I have only been playing an hour, so catch up."

"I think we need another one, then we could play co-op, that'd be awesome," said Cory.

"No dork it is single player, not even a death match mode, but another PSP would be awesome, 'cause there are a lot of games that do co-op or head to head play."

"Uh, we passed a Target store on the way here, stopped by there to get my shoes, they have 'em too. About eight blocks or so." said Cory his eyes never leaving the screen as he entered in his user name.

"Yeah? Well okay! We can sneak off when we get tired of this one. No one will know."

Staying quiet and working his, way up, to the boss Bobby had been stuck on took Cory forty-five minutes or so, he had watched Bobby play through some of the levels and took full advantage of what he had seen. He also made good progress on the boss monster, almost beating it his first time around, but not quite, much to both of their dismay. A little later, they decided to get up and head to the Target store, with Bobby saying, "You don't try to run away, I can catch you and Jimbo said to make sure you stuck around, okay?"

"Sure, okay, but what happens if we run into, you know, others?"

"We hide, that is all, I will scout things out and if it is all clear you follow. You can't outrun me barefoot," said Bobby.

_'Probably he was right.'_ thought Cory; however he would do his best to find that out for sure. Cory made extra sure to watch how to get back to the house and waited for his opportunity. The boys walked and sneaked their way back towards the Target store, stopping in a convenience store when Cory said he was hungry and thirsty, Bobby went in alone and seemed surprised when Cory was still there when he came back out with the food Cory had asked for, double quantities. The boys went around to the back of the store and sat down on a curb, where Cory ate and Bobby sat staring at the food, finally Cory said, "Well? You gonna try it or not?"

Bobby smiled a little and picked up a snickers bar, unwrapping it he smelled it and said, "It is like, different, it doesn't smell bad, you know, like nasty or something, but kinda like a spring day, good, but nothing that you would want to eat." He raised the candy to his lips and nibbled a little off the end. "Still chocolaty. Not good enough though, I don't think I can eat it."

Cory shrugged and said, "Is it that bad?"

"Yeah, no, not really, but it doesn't taste right, like you know, like you're eating play-doh or wax, you can eat it, but why?" Bobby took a larger bite of the candy bar, chewed it methodically, swallowed and then tossed the bar down. "Nope, I don't think I want to eat normal food anymore."

"No ice cream? No chocolate bars? No popcorn or peanuts or lemonade?"

"Probably not." Bobby picked up one of the mountain dews he had pilfered from the store, opened it, sniffed it and then drank a few swallows down. "This is not bad, I think I need water or something anyway, it is okay, it tastes different though, more chemically or something."

"Ewe, let me try it I got a bad pop once, it was really bad." After taking a swig from Bobby's pop, he said, "Naw, it is fine, it is just you I guess. Bummer."

"You about done? We gotta go; Jimbo won't like it if we are gone too long."

"How will he know?"

"Well, it is weird, like a one way phone mostly, he can kinda see things from my side, not really see, but he can get messages and things, sometimes I can get what he is doing too, like if he is fighting or something bad is happening, mostly I try to stay in yelling distance of him. He has sent me stuff before, words and stuff, but that seems to take him more effort and he does not do it very much. If I try though I can send him messages pretty good, easy, even pictures too."

"So you have to send him the message, it just doesn't go on its own?"

"I don't think so; I have to make an effort to send it out. I am not doing that now, or he would be mad. If he knew we were gone, you know." replied Bobby.

"Okay, let's go." Cory got up and the boys headed down Kipling Street back towards the Target store.

A couple blocks later Bobby put his hand out and stopped Cory from going forward, "There is something up there, get behind that dumpster." Bobby pointed at a dumpster sitting behind a gas station. Cory ran towards it, hitting some rocks at the mouth of the alley caused him some pain and he wondered again, why he hadn't slipped on his new flip-flops before getting out of the car. Bobby went forward out of Cory's sight and after a few minutes Cory got worried, was this a trick? He crept forward on his hands and knees until he could peek around the corner. He saw Bobby on the ground, apparently crying as a woman and younger child approached him cautiously. Once they were next to him the woman picked Bobby up off the ground and hugged him close, in an instance she knew something was wrong and so did Cory, the woman was human, not a zombie. Cory saw Bobby sink his teeth into the woman's neck, the woman tried to push him away and screamed at the little girl to run, and the girl stood in a daze then started screaming.

Cory ducked back around the corner of the building and started to run, this was not what he had planned, however he didn't think he could help the woman and her kid, he didn't have his bat. He ran back to the convenience store where he had eaten a few minutes before, going in he saw a rack with flip flops on it and he tore a pair down that looked like his size and put them on. Better shod he looked around for a weapon. Chips, soda bottles, Slim Jims, nothing. Nothing vaguely weapon like. As he sped out of the store, he ran across the street and back towards Max's house going around a parked car he stopped as almost ran into a zombie emerging from an open door. He swerved right, but skidded to the ground in front of the car, looking back, the zombie was slow and still trying to get is bearings, slowly it turned towards him. Cory realized something was under his right hand, metal, he turned to look as he got to his hands and knees, a thing for changing tires, a tire iron, he remembered his dad using one to rotate the tires on his mom's car. It was short, only about eighteen inches long, but better than nothing was and he grabbed it as he finished gaining his feet. He easily outdistanced the slow zombie as he turned down the street leading to Max's house. He opted for another turn to get him into the back yard of the house behind Max's, hoping that Amelia was still alive and that he could do something. Far behind him, a girl continued to scream, although her mother had fallen silent.

Chapter 49

It was twenty minutes to eight, an hour or so after sunrise when the group finally turned down the street that led to Max's house. Along the way they hit a zombie that was just turning onto Max's street, a slow moving zombie whose back was to them, as he crunched under their car Steve asked, "Hey do you think it is a good idea to run them down like that? I mean, what if they get hung up on the car or something?"

Stewart gave him a look, took her coffee cup, sipped it and replied, "He didn't seem to get hung up to me."

"It is okay Steve, we are almost there anyway, we can fish out any parts later if we have to." interjected Max, fending off a little fight before it happened, "It is the third house on the left there!" Max pointed to a house whose front door was open. There was a body lying in the front yard and the screen door was swinging open in the slight morning breeze. "Oh shit. Sarah! Not Sarah, not Sarah!"

"Easy Max, easy, the zed is dead right? That is a good sign." Stewart's brow furrowed in thought, "Hey Steve isn't that the caddy from your work parking lot? It looks familiar."

Steve and Tom examined the car closely, Max was too worked up and said, "Stop the car Stewart, stop the car!" while he pulled out the pistol, Stewart had given him to replace his revolver.

"I think that is Diane's car, our boss's, boss's boss, a few rungs up the ladder from us. It looks just like it, not a scratch on it either. Nothing like this piece of shit we are driving." said Steve.

"Yeah I think Steve is right, it could be a different car though, but she was so friggin' proud of that thing when she got it, we all had a look." added Tom.

"Stewart, let me out. Unlock the door," said Max. Stewart had the ability to keep the back doors locked, this car was a police cruiser, after all, she turned to Max and said, "Calm down Max, we are going in, but we are not going to go rushing in." She slowed the car to a stop parallel to the street in front of the driveway, so she would not have to back out.

"Okay is everybody ready? We all have bullets for all the guns, shotgun shells, pistol bullets? Good. Max, I think someone else should lead, me, with you second to tell me where to go. If your wife is one of them I won't hesitate, you might. Steve you or Tom need to stay with the car in the driver's seat and be ready to go, the driver keeps the 'over and under' rifle that Hank gave us. I get the shotgun."

Tom agreed to stay with the car and moved to the driver's seat while Stewart, Max and Steve lined up alongside the car and prepared to move into the house.

Despite the planning Max started towards the house ahead of Stewart, she looked after him, shrugged her shoulders and jogged after him. Worse yet he called out "Sarah!" as he burst through the front door.

Steve paused a second before jogging after Stewart, making the line of them a bit staggered, he was just reaching the front door when Max's first pistol shot rang out.

Max ran into his living room, past a female zombie who was standing there and heading towards his kitchen, where he saw a confusing scene in his dining room. His table and chairs had been shoved to one side to make room against the far wall. The zombies in the room were standing in the space shouting at each other; they looked almost human, the large male that Max had seen in the bathroom at work had a red face from arguing. Max recognized Nancy, her eyes widened and she started to move when she looked at him. A split second passed then Max started firing bullets into Nancy, trying to get a clean head shot, he was sure he hit her in the neck and chest, the other shot went high or left or right, she was so fast!

Stewart meanwhile was not content to leave a zombie behind her and before entering the kitchen, she paused to put two shots into the zombie in the living room. She turned back to Steve and said, "Watch our backs, we'll call if we need you!" and then hurried towards the kitchen.

The male zombie, Jimbo, quickly grasped the nature of what was happening and taking Veronica by the arm he pulled her close, lifted her up and hurled her bodily towards Max. Max tried to duck, but the stitching and pain in his ribs did not afford him enough agility to do so, he went down in a heap with Veronica on top of him at Stewart's feet. Stewart was hit high by a chair as soon as she entered the kitchen, by a follow up throw by Jimbo, who was calling out, "Julie bring those guys in! It's Max! It's Max!"

Jimbo then reached over and broke off a wooden table leg, as easy as someone would snap a twig, and advanced quickly over to Max on the floor. Underneath a screaming and yelling Veronica, Max could hardly move, his gun hand was sticking out from under her body and he fired off a lucky shot that somehow caught Jimbo in the thigh, momentarily spinning him around. Veronica, instead of pulling herself towards Max to bite and rend him with her teeth, pushed herself up and rolled sideways off his body.

"Fucking asshole!" Jimbo screamed as he tried to duck, get closer and hit Max with his table leg all at the same time. He succeeded in none of his efforts, missing Max because he was not close enough and while he was able to duck, the close quarters could not get him out of the way of Stewart's shotgun. She caught him on the left shoulder, neck and head, flipping him completely end over end, his table leg went flying up into the air to be snatched by Veronica as she climbed to her feet. She spun and hurled it at Stewart with deadly force. Taking it full in the chest Stewart let out a small moaning sound and fell back into the living room.

Veronica turned, looked at the overall situation, picked Nancy up and hurled her out through the back patio doors onto the patio. Badly shot and now sporting a few deep cuts, Nancy was still clinging to her undead life.

Meanwhile Max scrambled to regain his feet. Steve, seeing Stewart fall back into the room, rushed to her side, Stewart said weakly, "I'm alright, Go help Max."

"Sure, you just stay here and cover our asses." Steve said propping her body up against the wall. He then pressed his pistol into her hand and asked, "Can you lift it? Stewart! Can you shoot it?!"

She nodded _'yes'_ and said, "That bitch was Nancy's girl, Veronica? I'll be okay, I'm wearing my vest, I just. Got. The. Wind..." and she passed out.

"Fuck! Fuck! Stewart! Goddamn it!" hearing more shots and the sounds of fighting from the kitchen, Steve looked around the living room for any remaining threats, seeing none he made the decision to help Max. Crawling over to the shotgun, he picked it up, stood and headed into the kitchen. Reloading the shotgun with extra shells, he had in his own pockets.

Max stood up and leveled his pistol at Veronica.

"Fuck, don't move! You're Veronica, right? Don't Veronica, don't!" Veronica didn't listen and picked up a chair to throw at Max. Max shot her, he missed her head, but she flinched when she threw and the chair ended up embedded in the drywall next to Max's torso.

"Fine bitch, just die!" He aimed more carefully and pulled the trigger, the first shot was loud and on target, striking Veronica directly over her heart, she staggered back through the patio doors. A second later, she came flying back through them at Max, halting at the sight of his pistol about eight feet from her head. The silence was audible as he pulled the trigger. Click. He was out of ammo.

"Shit!" Max leaped backwards and pulled the chair from the wall, swinging it around he met Veronica's charge with it. He felt the stitches in his stomach rip out as he did this and let loose a feral scream as he turned with the chair.

Veronica surged forward pressing Max back, the force of her rush pinned the top of the chair to the wall behind Max and one of the legs slid into her rib cage impaling her with her own momentum. "Fuck!" she screamed, one of her hands did not seem to be working right anymore. Stepping back from Max the chair was pulled from his hands and she then tried to pull the impaled leg out of her torso with her one good arm. For all of her strength it was not working!

Max stumbled and tried to follow up on Veronica's weakness, when he found moving around was too painful he fumbled in his pocket for the extra bullets he had there, remembering Stewart's instructions he pulled the slide on the pistol back and carefully put a bullet in the chamber. Veronica went down on one knee, seeing Max reload the gun, she half rose and scrambled for the door, yelling, "Julie! Get in here!" Max popped the clip out of the gun trying to concentrate on three things at once, which was not making his job any easier. First, he had to load the clip again, there was no spare with the pistol, second he had to watch Veronica, and third he had to try to remain on his feet as blood poured down the front of his stomach. One bullet, two bullets, three bullets, four, Veronica reached the patio doors and lurched outside, still yelling for Julie. As she went Max could still hear her grotesquely pounding on the chair leg, trying to get it out.

Suddenly Max was pushed from behind as Steve rushed into the kitchen, he lost hold of the clip, tracked it with his eyes as it fell down in slow motion to the tile floor. Steve looked at Max, offered him an arm to steady him and said, "Sorry Max!" then headed towards the patio door.

"Hey Steve, wait! The clip man, I don't think I can bend over, get me the clip!" Max yelled to no avail at Steve's back. Max heard the shotgun go off and he went to his knees to try and reach the clip himself, he managed to reach it as another shotgun blast went off.

Outside Steve ran into a strange scene, Veronica was near one edge of the house, she looked to be running away, supporting Nancy as she went, two other female zombies were wrestling over a little boy, who clutched a tire iron in one hand, beneath the boys feet was the body of a woman, another zombie, Steve thought. He leveled the shotgun and fired at the woman holding the boys right hand, the shot took her in the chest and splattered the six foot fence with gore as it tore through her body, she did not let go of the little boy when she fell, but tugged him backwards, putting all three of them in a line. Steve walked forward to get a side shot on the other zombie, once he had her lined up he fired into her neck, decapitating her, she immediately let go of the boy and fell, the chest shot woman pulled the boy to her and used him as a shield. Steve did not fire for fear of hitting the boy and used the time to reload more shells into the shotgun.

"Shit! Max! One of them has a boy, looks like your kid maybe!" Steve shouted out.

Max heard Steve shout, he had just jammed the clip home and re-cocked the pistol when he saw the male zombie in the kitchen rise up, the zombie held out his hand, as if saying, "Stop" and Max did not fire.

"Where are my wife and kids?" Max asked him.

"In the attic, we didn't do anything to them. Let me pass and I'll leave, you don't shoot, we both walk away. This was a dumb-fuck idea from the start. Revenge, why bother?" said the man.

"I can't, you know I can't let you go, you will just kill more people, I can't." replied Max.

"Wait, wait a minute, you're Max, right?" Max nodded, "They call me Jimbo, and I don't have a beef with you, even though you shot me I will just walk away and never bother you again, but if you shoot me again, well, you better shoot real good, 'cause if you miss I will tear you limb from limb. Then, after you, I will go and get your wife and kids too. You understand? You ain't looking too good Max and that little thirty eight pistol you got there is not too accurate anyway, just let me go and we are even, you get your kids, I get to live, everybody is happy."

"I..."

Max was interrupted by another shotgun blast, part of the shot passed into the kitchen through the back door and he heard Steve yelling, "Oh pig-fucker!"

Outside Steve was trying to get a shot on the zombie woman and was creeping closer to her when a lawn chair struck him from behind. Veronica had thrown the lawn chair despite still having one of the dining room chair legs thrust through her body. With a final pull, the dining room chair came out and she raised it in front of her to fend off Steve's next shot, which came in her direction. Steve had spun around to see who had thrown the chair, which was too light to have really hurt him, he raised the shotgun as Veronica finally pulled the chair impaling her out and fired a shot at her. The shot went through the chair, but missed her completely; it continued past to hit Nancy as she was trying to stand up on the patio. The effects of this shot were horrendous, it caught her at the right breast and literally blew her entire shoulder and arm off, spinning her around to face the house. Nancy stood there for a moment longer then fell on her face and lay very still.

Veronica tossed the remnants of the dining room chair at Steve and followed it up with a flying tackle. They went down in a heap, Steve dropped the shotgun to have the use of both hands, but Veronica was by far the stronger. They wrestled around ineffectively while Cory watched, he struggled but the woman holding him tightened her grip and stood up awkwardly. The zombie wanted to help Veronica but did not want the boy to interfere again, so she tossed him over the six-foot fence in the yard behind Max's house. Cory hit a pine tree, breaking off branches and spinning head over heels, as he did so. He came to a rest in the dirt below the tree, winded, but otherwise unhurt.

Max looked at Jimbo, Jimbo stared back and said, "C'mon man, I walk out, you go help your friend and get your wife and kids. Just do it."

Nervously, Max replied, "What about them? In the backyard?"

Shaking his head side the side Jimbo answered, "No man, no, I can't control them, but if you let me go I won't help them and won't bother you again, I promise."

Hating himself Max nodded once and gestured with his gun for Jimbo to leave. Jimbo didn't hesitate for a second, he turned and lurched through the doors, once outside he saw what remained of Nancy, _'The bitch still isn't dead!'_ He thought to himself. Seeing Veronica wrestling with one of the humans on the ground Jimbo was tempted to help, and then opted to just move on. Bobby was out there somewhere, they could start their own gang, as he left though Jimbo could not help but stomp viciously on Nancy's head as he passed, ending any thought of her ever controlling him again. Jimbo went to the side of the house, saw the police cruiser out front and opted to cut through the back yard of one of Max's neighbors, working his way slowly and keeping cover between him and the street. Concentrating he mentally called out to Bobby, " _Bobby, you got that boy? I am in real need of nourishment right now!_ "

An answer came back, " _He got away, but I have a girl with me now._ " Jimbo could tell which direction and the approximate distance from him where Bobby was and immediately set off in that direction sending, " _You're away from where I thought you would be we'll talk in a few minutes. Get under cover somewhere._ "

Max watched Jimbo go with some doubt, he paused to check his gun and then stepped through the broken out patio doors into the backyard.

Steve was in trouble with a capital 'T', and he knew it. ' _If I don't get this bitch off me I am going to die!'_ his body surged with adrenaline and he flopped and rolled away from Veronica and her friend, standing up he backed towards the swing set in Max's yard, looking about for a weapon. He spied the shotgun behind Veronica, definitely out of reach. Veronica was no slower than Steve at getting up was and he was surprised she did not rush him. Then he saw she was coordinating with her friend, ' _Not good_.' he thought, then said, "Ladies, maybe we can work this out?" playing for time, time for Max to get out here, he hoped.

Veronica leered at him and said, "Sure buddy, just stand right there and I will make it quick for you." She too looked around and spied the shotgun lying on the ground, "Oh man you're dead we got you! Not so tough without your gun are you?" As she bent to pick up the shotgun Steve knew he had to rush her or face being shot and there was nowhere to run, no cover except the swing set.

He rushed towards Veronica like a bull when she was still bending over, she saw him coming and struggled to pull the gun up and shoot him. At the same time, her friend intercepted Steve from the side, tackling him in mid-tackle. They both went down while Veronica yelled, "Roll clear so I can shoot him!"

In an ironic twist, Steve found himself clinging to the zombie woman so Veronica could not get a clear shot. The shotgun exploded in a loud blast. ' _So this is what it feels like to be on the barrel side of a shotgun when it goes off_.' Steve thought to himself, at the same time he was yelling loudly and trying to force the zombie woman on top of him. She was stronger than he was and managed to pull away, Steve rolled away as another round from the shotgun went off. He got to his feet in a rush, turning, he saw Veronica pumping the shotgun one handed, she stepped in closer to him and when the barrel was about two feet from his stomach she started to pull the trigger.

A shot rang out from the back patio and Veronica staggered under the blow of yet another gunshot wound, snarling she fired the shotgun point blank into Steve's stomach. Steve stood there for a second, not quite understanding what had just happened, slowly the world started spinning and growing fuzzier. He saw the grass, the sky Max wildly shooting almost in slow motion, the back fence with a small arm and body climbing over it, then he saw no more.

Max saw the shotgun go off, a spray of blood and pellets erupted from his friend's back. Steve stood there for a long second, not falling over and Max had hope that maybe Veronica had just winged him, then he started to spin around and Max saw the full extent of the damage, the shot was dead center out of Steve's back.

"No!" Max shouted.

Veronica turned towards Max and fired the shotgun again as he continued to shoot at her, the gun clicked on an empty chamber and Veronica took a shot to her good upper arm in return. The shotgun fell unwillingly from her hand. Seeing this Max shifted his aim and his third shot was at the other zombie that had started to move towards him, catching her in the stomach, which barely slowed her. Veronica ran towards the six-foot fence on the side of Max's yard, she could not move either of her arms very well and did not even try to climb the fence; instead, she took a flying leap. She did not clear the fence, she hit it about four feet up, a very good jump that enabled her to bend her torso over enough to fall into the yard next door out of sight. Barely pausing she got up and continued running through the backyard following the same path that Jimbo had taken moments before.

Max noticed a small hand appear on the back fence, as he watched a small boy pulled his head above the fence line, there was blood running down his face. As he pulled himself over the fence, Max could see he was still clutching a tire iron. It was too soon to tell if he was a zombie or not, but given a choice Max would rather face a zombie child than a zombie woman any day of the week.

Max leveled the pistol at the zombie woman coming towards him, hoping he had one more bullet left, as she approached to within four feet he shot her once in the head and she dropped spinelessly to the ground.

"Is Amelia okay?!" yelled the boy as Max turned towards him.

Lowering the gun, and moving towards Steve, Max replied, "Who?"

"Amelia! She found me in the hotel," as if that explained everything. He continued to climb over the fence and Max could see he had a large bruise on his back that was oozing blood through his torn shirt, in addition to the cuts on his head. As his legs cleared the fence, Max saw more of the damage, both of the boys legs were bleeding, he had a bloody cut running down his right leg, dripping blood between his bare toes. His other foot still had a large flip-flop on it, but it too had been sliced open and was oozing fresh blood. His left arm sported a massive blue bruise that looked older than the other damage, none of the wounds looked like bite marks to Max.

Seeing Max watch him Cory said, "I had flip-flops that I stole from a convenience store, but one of them flew on the roof when she threw me over the fence. Amelia got me more shoes in the car. I think my game boy is broke too." He took a small square of plastic out of his front pocket and showed Max, there was a long crack running across the front of the device and despite Cory's insistent pushing of what Max assumed was a power button, nothing was happening.

Looking at the carnage in his backyard Max contrasted it to the small boy pressing the buttons on his game. His life had become a surreal nightmare. Going over to Steve, he knelt down and checked his friend. Steve's eyes were rolled back into his head, he was not breathing, but his mouth was moving feebly open and closed, open and closed. Then that movement stopped too and his friend was deathly still. Tears wet the corners of his eyes and he stood watch over his friend for a moment, waiting to see if he would rise from the dead and reloading his pistol in case he needed it. After a couple of minutes of vigilance, Max decided that Steve wasn't coming back. He turned back towards the house, dragging the boy along with him as he went, carrying the bleeding boy over the broken glass littering his back porch. As he carried him over the glass Max said, "My name is Max. What is your name?"

"Cory. Is she okay? Is Amelia okay Max?"

"I don't know, I didn't see her in the house, so...I don't know."

As they entered the kitchen Max set Cory down well clear of the broken glass, the boy ran yelling towards the living room "Amelia! Amelia! Where are you?"

Stewart was leaning up against the wall halfway from the living room to the kitchen; a trickle of blood was coming out of the corner of her mouth. She grunted and rolled over to her hands and knees, as Max brushed by her.

Once in the living room Max called up the stairs, "Sarah! Sarah, if you are there it is me! Max! Sarah are you up there?"

Cory had gone out into the front yard and was looking wildly around, calling for Amelia.

The muffled cries of 'Daddy! Daddy!' came from upstairs and Max bounded up them two at a time until he was standing underneath his attic access door. The floor was covered with loose insulation and next to the door in the ceiling was a hole through the drywall; blood was smeared along one side of the hole. As Max watched, a small face appeared in the hole and looked down at him.

"Nick?" Max called up to his son, "Is everything okay buddy?"

"No mom is hurt, something pulled her leg down into the floor and hurt her, she is bleeding really bad, help her dad!" Max's son said.

Another voice joined his son's, "Max is that you?"

Nick's face was pushed aside rather quickly and Max found himself staring at Amelia, the secretary from work.

"Amelia? How did you get here?"

"I drove; I thought you would be here when we got here."

"We thought you were dead. When did you get here?"

"About twenty minutes ago. Let me push the ladder down."

Amelia moved sideways and Nick's face reappeared, dirt streaked and anxious. The swinging door opened and the rickety wooden stair ladder unfolded.

Chapter 50

Max climbed up into the attic, not knowing what to expect, when he was fully up into the gloomy interior Amelia pointed at the makeshift bed onto which she had brought Sarah. Jessica, Max's daughter, was near her mother's head, telling her everything would be okay. Max stepped over to them and took his wife in his arms.

"Oh Sarah! Sarah! Thank God!" he sobbed with relief, "I was so worried, when we got here and the door was open, with a body in the yard, I thought, I thought it was you!"

"Max?" Sarah mumbled, "Is it really you? You're bleeding?"

Behind Max, his son came up and put his arms around his father's waist, not saying anything. Amelia stood awkwardly near the access door, then finally cleared her throat and said she better go stop Cory, whose plaintive cries for 'Amelia' could be heard through the venting, from yelling his head off in the front yard.

"Thank God you're alright! He stayed there for a moment hugging his wife and children, before he felt Sarah stiffen. "What?"

"I think one of them bit me Max," she said softly.

"What? No, no that can't be! Where did they bite you? You were in the attic, did they get up here?"

Sarah pushed Max back and pulled aside the blankets her children had lain down upon her. Max didn't want to believe what he saw, she had a small t-shirt folded neatly pressed against her leg, the wound underneath had bled through and Sarah gently lifted it out to reveal a wound, that was still bleeding furiously. In the darkness, Max couldn't be sure it was a bite wound. "Flashlight," he said, his son let him go long enough to hand him a small LED flashlight which Max turned on and used to examine the wound. It was a bite mark; Max could see where the top row of teeth had pierced her skin.

"Oh no."

"This is bad?" Sarah asked.

"Did you disinfect it?"

"With what?"

"Shit." Max stood up abruptly, toppling Nick into some boxes, where Max caught him with a quick grab, "Sorry bud, stay here, I'll be right back!" moving quickly Max went down the ladder into the bathroom linen closet and grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and some clean washrags and towels. He scrambled back up the stairs and back to Sarah's side, where he unscrewed the bottle cap and poured it onto her wound. She tensed up momentarily. "Does it hurt?" Max asked.

"No it is just cold. What's wrong Max? What's wrong?"

"I...human bites are very bad for you...there are not going to be any more doctor visits or co-pays or anything for a long time, if ever again. We have to take care of ourselves better now and fast, we can't wait around to treat stuff like this."

"Is that it?" Sarah asked.

"I'll tell 'ya later." Max answered, which in parent code means 'when the kids were not around'.

Sarah nodded and lay back as Max finished cleansing the wound and then pressed a washrag over it. Finally, he tore a towel into strips and used one to bind the makeshift bandage into place.

"Can you move?" he asked.

"I think so, it is deep but not like through the bone or anything."

Together they made their way downstairs where Amelia, Tom, Cory and Stewart were waiting. The front door had been shut and the couch moved behind it. Stewart was on the couch looking back towards the kitchen, her pistol on her lap.

"Stewart." Max said, "You okay?"

She raised her head to look at him and answer, "Fuck no. I think I have broken ribs."

Wincing at her language around the kids Max said, "So you will live?"

"Yeah, Steve?"

"Steve didn't make it."

A look of alarm and disbelief came over her face, and then she clamped down and made her face into a neutral mask once more. "What happened?"

"Steve chased Veronica into the backyard; I don't know what happened, but..."

"I do!" said Cory softly, "He...they, the zombies caught me when I came over the fence, one...one had each of my hands, that guy with the shotgun came out and shot one of them, the other one tried to keep him from shooting her and when he was getting close that Veronica zombie hit him with a chair. Then she jumped on him and they were rolling around, only she was all messed up and couldn't fight very well, so she called on the lady holding me for help. That lady threw me over the fence. He kinda saved me."

"Yeah, I bet he did. When I came out, he was getting up off the ground, she had shot at him a couple of times and missed, but I missed her head when I got my shot off. She shot him with the shotgun, his own shotgun. Well yours really. Gut shot him, at point blank. He just stood there for a second, then tried to take a breath, but couldn't, then he spun around and collapsed. I can't believe it happened. If I would have hit her in the head I could have saved him." Max said bitterly.

"He came along knowing what could happen Max, he died trying to save a kid, not many people can say that and it is better than being eaten or becoming one of them. This is Sarah?"

"Yes, this is Sarah. Sarah this is Officer Jane Stewart, we all call her 'Stewart'. I think Sarah is okay...but one of them, I think, might have bit her."

Stewart stiffened visibly at this news, which Sarah noticed, "What? It isn't anything fatal, I mean it hurts, but it is not that bad."

"I poured a bottle of hydrogen peroxide on it." Max began only to be interrupted by Amelia.

Addressing Max's children she said, "You must be Max's kids, what are your names?"

"Nick."

"Jessica."

"Well Nick and Jessica this is Cory, his about your age, huh Nick? Do you think you might have some extra cloths he could use? His are all dirty and both of you should get dressed because we might be leaving today. Why don't we all go upstairs and you can show me your rooms while your mom and dad talk with Stewart and Tom."

The children were reluctant, but Sarah pushed them off, telling them to brush their teeth and comb their hair too. Amelia herded them upstairs and soon the other adults were able to hear the sounds of quiet laughter and running water as the kids cleaned up.

"Now what? It is the bite isn't it. It's like infected or something, isn't it?"

Max stood stoically, for a moment, then hugged her close and said, "It is how they kill us and make more zombies. The bite infects you, and then you die. Then you come back as one of them."

Sarah's eyes puffed up and a tear welled out of one of them. "Are you sure? Have you seen it happen? Who told you this?"

"Blake, on the radio and a lot of people called him to say so too. And it happened at work, but when we were there, the zombies actually killed the people, so I don't know anything for certain. Maybe you will be okay."

"How much time do I have?" Sarah asked.

"I don't know. How do you feel? Maybe the hydrogen peroxide disinfected it?" Stewart would not meet his eyes and Tom shook his head slowly.

"Max we don't know, we won't maybe we can call the DJ and see if anyone knows?" said Tom, "We should try and secure this place a little better, Stewart says the back door is all busted out. Let's take care of safety first, and then make some calls."

Stewart and Max were the most wounded of the four of them, Sarah's bite hurt, but Max had torn open his wound again and was bleeding pretty badly. They took a moment to pull Stewart's Kevlar vest off and then bind up Max's ribs again. The bruise under Stewart's vest was terrible; it a was deep blue circle as big around as an orange with a small dot of red in the middle of it that was weeping blood. Pressing her hands against the wound Stewart said, "They might not be broke." To which the others just shook their heads. Tom and Sarah pulled some lumber out of Max's garage, most of it would not work, but Max did have some plywood and old table tops that he had taken from his father in law with the intention of refinishing a long time ago. The two more able bodied adults, who were soon assisted by Amelia, propped the various bits against the opening where the glass patio doors had been, making a sizable barricade. At the very least, they would hear anything trying to get through it.

Sarah, with the help of Amelia, then made them all a halfway decent breakfast and they sat down to try to call Blake at the radio station and make plans for what they were going to do next.

After breakfast, Tom went into the backyard from the garage, which had a regular door to pass through and pulled Steve's body to the side of the house. He also pulled the other corpses to the side and covered them with sheets from the house. When he came in he called out, "Stewart? Hey, yeah I checked out the yard trying to find the shotgun, but no go - it is gone. But I found this." Tom walked into view carrying a plastic Target bag. The rest of the adults were sitting in the living room. Max's kids were upstairs, trying to decide what to pack. Cory had fallen asleep on the couch head resting against Max.

"What is in the bag Tom?" asked Stewart.

"Check it out." He handed the bag to Stewart; she opened it and gave him a puzzled look.

"What the fuck is this shit? This yours Max?" Stewart asked, thinking maybe it was a gift for his kids that somehow ended up outside.

Max looked at Cory sleeping beside him, then at and into the bag and shook his head, "You're gonna have to change the way you speak, no swearing around little kids. And no I don't know anything about that stuff. Is there a receipt in the bag? Receipts have dates on them." He said to Tom's puzzled look. Max also knew that Sarah kept the receipts in every bag, especially with gifts, if there was not a receipt the bag was not from their house.

"Nope, nothing. Look at this stuff, hand held games, one, no, two different systems, the new PSP and the DS, expensive stuff too. Where'd this come from?"

They sat and stared at each other for a while before Max said, "Maybe Cory picked it up?"

Amelia shook her head, "Not when he was with me, we passed a Target, but we didn't go inside and we didn't get anything like this stuff."

"Yeah and Cory tried to show me his game in the back yard, it got busted or something. I don't think he would have cared if he had a bag of the stuff," said Max.

Chapter 51

"Why the fuck are you way over here?" Jimbo asked Bobby, when he finally caught up with him.

Bobby glared at Jimbo and said, "He wasn't so bad. Cory wasn't so bad, I could have liked him a lot."

"I know, but how did you get here?" Jimbo shifted his eyes and looked at the ragged quiet girl that Bobby gripped tightly with one hand, she was probably eight or nine and scared speechless.

"Well I liked Cory, only he didn't have a PSP and we couldn't play together head to head with just one. So, I figured we would go get one, now that they are free. You didn't tell me not to!" Bobby said defiantly.

Sighing, Jimbo said, "Alright, it is water under the bridge, okay? No big deal you wanted to get your friend a video game, is that it there?" Pointing at the sack, that Bobby held.

"Yeah I went and got it anyway, I figured you would catch Cory."

"Well no, we didn't, I never saw him."

"He is probably at the house, can we go and get him?" asked Bobby.

"Wh-what? Are fucking nuts? Bobby those guys practically killed me! And I think they killed everyone else!"

A third voice joined the conversation, "No. They didn't."

Turning they all looked at Veronica as she stood in the doorway of the convenience store where they had taken refuge. "They almost did, no thanks to you Jimbo. Who is this?"

"Veronica, Jesus, you look beat! What the hell happened? This is Bobby and his little, scrumptious friend." said Jimbo, thinking to himself, _'This bitch steps outta line and I will kill her, she is so torn up I could do it.'_

As if reading his thoughts she said, "Relax Jimbo, truce okay? Like I heard you say a moment ago, water under the bridge, I need your help and I ain't Nancy."

"Okay, truce, but what do you want?"

"There is strength in numbers Jimbo, me, you, Bobby and the girl, that is a start. Let's do it again, only this time we are going to find some guns, no more of this hand-to-hand shit. We recover our strength and go after a few more people, get a group together, find a car and get the hell out of here."

"Yeah, I think so, that sounds good." turning to Bobby he said, "We need her Bobby, I am weak, Veronica is worse off than me. Sorry, but we gotta have her."

Bobby looked at them, "Yeah, okay, she is a girl anyway, I want another boy. I am gonna go find Cory and give him this." he said, lifting the sack in one hand.

"Don't be stupid Bobby, save it for the next boy we find, okay?"

"No! You get the girl I go drop this off." he let the girl go and she scrambled away into the back of the store to hide in the shadows, Bobby moved in the other direction, towards the front of the store, where he quickly ducked under a pane of broken glass and out into the morning.

Veronica gave a start and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Aw let him go, the kid is stupid and stubborn, but I like him. Reminds me of me at that age. I have the feeling we are going to be making another trip to Target for another DSP when we find another boy close to his age. God I hate killing the little ones."

"DSP? It is PSP Jimbo, aren't you with it enough to know what is 'in'? I hate offing the kids too. Do you think we could just bleed her a bit and find someone still alive to take her? I am tired of killing."

Jimbo thought about it for a second, and then nodded, "Yeah that would ease my conscious a bit. We'll have to be careful."

Together they turned back towards the girl cowering in the shadows.

Bobby found his way back to the backyard of the house behind Max's and cautiously peered over the fence. Nothing, no Cory, but his eyes spotted the shotgun on the grass. He climbed over the fence, picked up the shotgun and sat the bag down. As he was getting ready to climb back over the fence, he spotted a shotgun shell in the grass. He bent to pick it up and spotted another one, he retrieved that one and noticed it was heavier than the first one, looking at the first one he saw that it has a hole in the front end, not like the second one, which was snub nosed and folded closed. It didn't take a genius to figure out which one of them had already been fired. He tossed the empty down and looked around for more shells, he only found more empties and decided one was better than nothing was. Someone started moving around in the kitchen near the broken glass doors, not sure who it was Bobby leaped up and jumped for the back fence. He cleared it in a single bound. When he got back to the convenience store, he only saw Jimbo.

"Where are Veronica and Erin?" his voice took on an accusing tone, "You didn't bring her back did you? I don't want a little girl zombie!"

"Whoa! Whoa! No way, she ain't a zombie, we only bled her enough to heal ourselves up a bit, we didn't even finish the job, and Veronica is going to give her to Max. Let him deal with the kid. Where'd you find the gun?" asked Jimbo, amazed.

"I picked it up in Max's back yard and I found this." Bobby held up an unspent shell.

"Well I'll be damned! Good job Bobby!" shaking his head in disbelief, "We can't find any guns and you find one laying in the yard. Un-fucking-believable."

Bobby beamed over the praise and together they waited for Veronica to return. It was a short wait.

"I left her in the Cadillac. She'll live. There is a gas station down the street with a car out front, as if they were filling up. Let's go see if we can find the keys."

The keys were on the body of a man lying in front of the counter, he was missing his head. The car was already full of fuel and soon enough they were headed north towards Boulder, leaving Arvada behind.

Chapter 52

A few hours had passed. Cory had woken up and was busy playing video games with Nick. Max normally would not have allowed Nick anywhere near a video game, but playing outside was simply too dangerous, with headphones on the boys were quiet as church mice. When Max had suggested moving one or both cars into the garage, Stewart had said to move the cruiser in. When she went out to move it, she found a girl in the front seat, a very scared, bloody girl. The girl wouldn't talk to her, but Amelia had coaxed her name, Erin, out of her using food as a bribe. Erin's arm had been cut open in a ragged manner and she would not say what had happened to her. Amelia cleaned her up and put her with the other children, who were confined to the second story of the house.

After moving the cruiser in, Tom and Stewart looked it over as best they could. Neither of them were mechanics, so they went slow and looked for obvious damage. After ten minutes of looking and not finding any problems, they came to the conclusion that the cruiser had come through in remarkable shape. They pulled it out and drove the Cadillac into the garage to check it over; it was completely unscratched and ready to roll.

With all the other adults busy Max and Sarah were left to talk. At first, they just held each other, and then Sarah started crying. Over breakfast, she had spoken with Amelia and learned what had happened to Diane. By noon Sarah no longer felt good, she described it as having a case of the flu. Her stomach felt like it was being tied in knots. When she and Max checked her wound in their master bedroom, it was red, swollen and filled with foul smelling green and yellow pus. They both cried then as they cleaned it up as much as possible. At dinnertime Sarah did not help out with preparing the food, a thick sheen of sweat covered her face and plastered her hair to her head. She didn't eat dinner. As night came on the group took heavy winter blankets and sleeping bags out of the closets and garage and hung them over all of the upstairs windows, to keep light from getting out and giving away their location.

Sarah went into her bedroom and called Max and their kids in and shut the door.

Amelia spoke quietly with Stewart and Tom downstairs. "She looks like Diane did, before she turned."

"So she isn't going to make it? How much longer did Diane last after she got to this point?" asked Stewart.

"About half the night, maybe six hours."

"Shit, what are we going to do? We can't kill Max's wife!" said Tom.

"I don't know, I don't know. We'll think of something," replied Stewart.

They went on to discuss piling furniture on the stairway and hiding out up there for the night, looking around they didn't have much left to move, most of the furniture in the living room had been moved in front of the door or pulled into the kitchen to barricade the patio doorway.

Inside Max's bedroom, Sarah told the kids how much she loved them and would always love them, and then had Max bring them to Nick's room. Max went back into his bedroom alone, shut, and locked the door behind him.

"You have to Max. I won't become one of them." Sarah pleaded.

"Don't ask me to do that, you can't and I won't. What if someone comes up with a way to reverse it? Then you would be gone forever."

"Max I am going to be gone forever. I can feel it - it hurts. It hurts so badly. Just do it, please?"

"I can't."

"Stewart then, send her to do it. I don't want to run around like one of them, I can't do that, killing and...And eating other people. Becoming one of them! They were evil! That won't be me."

"No, no one is going to do anything...final. We will figure something out."

"Max this isn't a mountain you can climb; this isn't a game you can win by putting more effort into it. This is it. I got bit. I got infected and I am going to die. Tonight. You cannot sit there and say you are going to figure something out."

Max bowed his head into his hands and sobbed. Sarah continued, "You have to do it. I want you to do it."

Max raised his tear stained face and looked at her. He gave her a curt nod.

"Good, should we go into the back yard, away from the kids?"

Horrified Max said, "I'm not doing it now! You are still alive!"

She smiled at him, "Better now before...I turn. At least we could get away from the kids and they wouldn't have to see. If you wait until I change we could be out there all night, plus if I stay here it would be a mess to clean up."

Max just stared at her, then with some anger in his voice he said, "You are going to die and you are worried about the mess it would make in our bedroom?"

Sarah shrugged, "I am being realistic. If you wait until I change, you would have to shoot me here, and then drag me out past the other bedrooms, maybe the kids would see, maybe not. Then you would have to deal with the blood and stuff. It is better to just go do it now and get it over with, before the pain gets worse."

"No, I think I can do it after you turn, but no way, no way can you ask me to do this before that happens. I would always think maybe we were too soon, maybe you would fight it off, or maybe you wouldn't turn out like the others."

It was Sarah's turn to nod, "I won't make a murderer of you, any more than I would commit suicide. When I am gone you have to do it, it won't be murder then, so don't think it will be."

Of the two of them, Sarah was the more religious. Max was always the one who attended church 'just in case', he felt he that an hour of fellowship was not as important as a week of treating people right, but went with Sarah at her insistence. Sarah was far more apt to obey the commandments to the letter than Max and had very strong feelings on things like abortion, suicide and murder. During their college years, she had even been arrested protesting at a candle light vigil the night Colorado put one of its murderers to death. The two of them had gone around several times about raising the children in the church, Sarah did not approve of Max's casual attitude regarding their religious education. It was for this reason alone, Max surmised, that Sarah would not put a gun to her own head and pull the trigger right now. Suicide was still a mortal sin and she fully expected to be waiting for her family in Heaven when they joined her.

"Max you have to promise me to take care of the kids when I am gone."

"What the hell kind of a thing to say? I'm their father; I am not going to run off just because you are not around."

"Oh I know you will be there for them, but I know how you are too. I want you to promise to make sure they continue, you know, in the church, if it is possible. It is what I want."

"The church? What church? We will be lucky if the kids live to have kids, the way things are going."

"I know but promise you will, if you can?" Sarah's face was pale and still sweaty.

"Dammit I thought I was going to get to weasel out of that."

"This isn't a joke and you still haven't promised, seriously it is my dying wish Max!" Sarah said sincerely.

Sighing heavily, like a good martyr, Max replied, "I will do my best, you don't expect me to be all biblical on them right?"

"No, I couldn't squeeze blood from a rock, but you have to promise me that you will bring them up in the church. Say it." she pressed.

"I promise I will do my best to raise our children in the church. There, good enough?"

She nodded and leaned back against the pillows piled behind her.

"That is just like you to make me promise that. I mean who says 'dying wish' anymore? That is only the stuff you see in movies!"

Sarah smiled, "I win another battle after all these years."

"Oh you've won your share and we both know it."

The smile stayed on her face and she nodded, "Sure, so have you that is what being married is all about. Give and take. We had some good times?"

"We never made it to Hawaii." Max said regretfully.

"Think about what we did do. We have two great kids, we took them all over, me and you traveled around like vagabonds after college before settling down. We have a strong family."

"Yeah, I guess we do. It was Nick who settled us down as I remember."

"Oh yes, he gave me pains developing and gave us pains the first six months of his life, the kid never slept!" said Sarah.

"Remember the drum set?" Max asked. Sarah's dad had given Nick a junior drum set for Christmas when Nick was four. "I just about banned your dad from the house after that!"

"Yeah but he gave us the car, it was the way his humor worked. Still I wasn't too sad when Nick 'lost' his drum sticks after a couple weeks," said Sarah.

"Oh, I took one of them. I just couldn't stand it after a while."

"That's alright; I took the other a day later."

"You did?!" Max was surprised.

"Yeah, I figured out you had snagged the first one, so you left me to finish the job. Typical really. I always wondered why you didn't snag both of them?"

"Well, I thought it would be suspicious if he lost them both at the same time. I actually thought he lost the other one on his own."

"See? We are still learning things about each other. Well, you about me anyway."

"Yeah, you were always the sneaky one, me? I am a straight arrow, predictable and reliable."

"You'll come around eventually." Sarah conceded.

Max just looked at his wife for a while, and then started crying again. "What am I going to do? What am I going to do without you?"

Sarah hugged him close and whispered, "Live. Take care of the kids, but live your life."

They stayed that way for a while before Sarah finally said, "Max, I want to go to the attic."

"What?"

"Let's go to the attic, then, if you have to do it, no one will see and you can just leave me here in our house. I know you aren't going to stay, right?"

"We haven't made plans yet."

"You didn't come to get me and the kids so we could all stay here; I know you are going to go somewhere. You can leave me in the attic; let me stay where I had so many good times."

"In the attic?"

"Max." Sarah said sharply, "You know what I mean. The attic is closer than most people get to be to their homes when they die. Say a prayer over me for the kids and then just go. Come on, let's move up there now."

"Is it time? Already?"

"No, but I keep feeling weaker and I don't want you to have to carry me up there. Where we slept, should still be there, I will just curl up and go to sleep. I will be okay and you can do what needs to be done after."

They went out into the hall together and Max pulled down the stairway ladder using the rope he had tied to it again. As they went up Max noticed someone had cleaned all the fallen insulation up out of the hallway and put a piece of wood over the hole on the attic side to keep more from falling out.

Sarah settled down among the kid's sleeping bags and stuffed animals, then pointed at the kid's pillows, "You better toss these down, Jessica likes her own pillow and I don't want her to come looking for it later."

Stewart's head popped up at the attic access. "Everything okay up here?"

"Yeah, Sarah is going to settle in here." Max replied.

"I...yeah, okay, I can see that makes sense. How are you doing Sarah?"

"I have been better, I feel weaker by the minute, maybe you can ask Amelia what comes next?"

Stewart didn't shy away from the question, "I did. You die. Then come back. I am really sorry Sarah. I wish there was something I could do."

"It isn't your fault, Jane."

"Do you need anything?" Stewart asked.

"For tonight? No. But take care of Max and the kids for me, will you?"

"I had planned to, once we figure out what we are doing from here. I think we will talk about that...tomorrow. Well if you don't need anything else, I am going to duck out of here. Max...don't do anything foolish, okay?"

"Me?"

Stewart just nodded and climbed back down the ladder into the house. Max heard her talking softly with Amelia, and then they moved off out of hearing range.

Max turned back to his wife, "So, how are you feeling now?"

"Achy. Do you know if it gets worse?"

Max shook his head, "Why don't I go get some acetaminophen?"

Sarah shrugged her shoulders, "I guess it won't hurt anything."

Max climbed down to retrieve the medicine. Amelia and Stewart were at one end of the hall, opposite of where Max was heading, he stepped over to them to see what they were discussing.

Amelia saw him coming and asked, "How is Sarah, Max?"

"I don't know, feverish, sweating. Amelia how was it with...Diane? Is Sarah looking like she did before she...died?"

Amelia's small smile faded and she looked towards a hallway wall, she nodded slowly, "I am sorry Max, she is going through the same thing, the same way."

"It's okay Amelia, I just wanted to know, you know?" Amelia nodded.

Stewart asked, "You look like you came down for more than to shoot the breeze Max, what are you after?"

"Acetaminophen." Max shrugged, his eyes were watery and wet, "I know, not likely to be the cure-all we need, but if it eases the pain." He shrugged again.

"Sure, Max anything. You have some here or do you want me to go get some?"

"What? Oh, no it is after dark now, I wouldn't dream of sending you out for any. Anyway we have a ton of the stuff; we bought a jug of it from the warehouse store awhile back." Max walked back to the linen closet just inside the bathroom.

The women followed him and Stewart said, "It is probably a bad time to bring this up..."

Max raised his hand up, "I think I can do it, after, you know, she changes, and she made me promise. I can't do it before, 'cause I would always wonder if she would have changed or not'."

Stewart nodded, "You got the gun then?"

"Always now." the pistol was tucked into Max's pocket, he pulled it out, "I don't want the kids to see it, I didn't want to scare them any more than they were already."

"Fair enough, if you...if you want me to take care of it Max, I will understand. I know you would do the same for me." said Stewart.

"No. I got this. With you two watching my back and keeping an eye on the kids for me...well that will make things easier. Just yell if anything happens that you need my help with." said Max

"Likewise."

"Don't worry about the kids Max," said Amelia, "I have them in Jessica's room, the boys are playing video games, the girls have a bunch of those little animal things all over the floor, Erin is playing even." said Amelia.

"Okay, just give me tonight and we'll figure out what to do in the morning. Amelia, it will be tonight won't it? I mean is Sarah looks like Diane did?" Max was fighting to stop from crying in front of them.

Amelia leaned over and hugged him and he started to cry in earnest. Stewart stood awkwardly by for a second then embraced both of them, they stood that way outside the bathroom door for a few minutes, and then Max excused himself to the bathroom, where he composed himself before climbing back into the attic.

Sarah noted him coming over to her and said, "I thought you forgot me."

"Never, I just..."

"Shhhh...It's okay Max, I know, I heard a little...it is okay, really."

Max broke down again and his wife hugged him close, they stayed that way for the longest time, both of them drifting off to sleep, the acetaminophen forgotten.

When Max woke next Sarah was shuddering, her body contorted upwards in the middle throwing Max off of her onto the boards next to the bedding.

"Sarah!" Max whispered harshly, "Sarah! Are you okay?" He fumbled around trying to find a flashlight. Below them in the hallway, Max heard Tom call out something.

Sarah continued convulsing, while Max searched, a square of light appeared on the ladder below, illuminating the attic enough for Max to find the small LED light he had been looking for. He frantically pressed the button on the end and flashed the light over to where his wife should be.

As he pulled it up Sarah lunged at him. "No Sarah!" She pushed him backwards, somehow Max rolled over and got up. Shining the light over her Max saw that she was tangled in the bedding, which had been caught on the edge of a wooden box they had stored in the attic years ago. Max fumbled in his waistband for the pistol and stepped back to brace himself on one of the wooden boards just when Sarah pulled free of the blankets. She stumbled into him knocking him backwards, for a second Max thought he had fallen through the ceiling, then he realized he had been pushed through the open attic access. His head and shoulders impacted the wooden ladder and righted his body as he fell. During his fall, he lost his hold on the gun. Max ended up on the hallway floor, trying to figure out if he had been hurt or not. Above him, one of Sarah's hands was visible groping around in the empty space leading down to the ladder. Then Tom was there with a gun and flashlight in his hands.

"Max! Are you alright?" he asked.

"Uh, I don't know, watch out Tom, Sarah turned!"

Tom glanced up, and then heaved the ladder upwards with a one handed push, grunting as he did so. The attic access closed with a thud, blocking Sarah's probing hand from view.

"That won't hold if she steps on it." Max said.

"I know we need a board or something to prop it up."

Stewart stumbled out of Nick's room, "What is going on? What happened?"

"Sarah turned." Max said, gingerly trying to get up off the floor, Stewart put a hand out and they both paused when they heard movement in the attic.

Stewart turned to Max accusingly, "You didn't do it? I told you I would if you couldn't..." she stopped as she saw Max shaking his head.

"I fell asleep, when she woke up I tried, but she tackled me and I fell down the hole."

"Shit. Now what do we do?"

"Get a board to prop up the attic," said Tom.

"Do we have any left?" asked Stewart, "We used everything we had to barricade the back doors."

"I think I know where there is one, gimme a second to make sure I didn't break anything." Max felt his ankles, arms and ribs while they watched him.

"Anytime now Max, no rush or anything." said Stewart.

"Fine, good enough." Max leaned over and picked up his flashlight, "I gotta run to the garage and into the back yard real quick. Will you guys stay here?"

"Sure, be careful and quick, okay?" answered Stewart.

Max stumbled down the stairs, then headed through the living room, which had one candle lit providing a small amount of light. The kitchen was lit the same way, just enough to be useful, but probably not enough to let people outside see anything. Heading into the garage Max grabbed a saw off the wall above the workbench and quietly unlocked the back door, he peered out and flashed the light around his back yard. He didn't see anything, so he eased out the door, muffling the flashlight against his leg.

Max headed for the patio behind the house, when he reached the edge he stopped and risked a quick look with the light. The old two by four boards that they had used when they poured the patio was still on the edge. It had been years since the patio had been poured so the wood was not in very good shape, but it was long enough. Max bent down, and tried to pull the board out. It was embedded in the dirt and didn't want to cooperate. He moved to one end and used the saw as an improvised shovel to clear the dirt away from the board. Having cleared a place for him to get a hand under it, Max lifted the board up easily. He pulled it along behind him as he ran - all efforts at deadening the light forgotten as he went into the garage; he slung the board ahead of him alongside his minivan, then turned and shut and locked the back door of the garage.

Max hauled the dirty board into his house after stuffing his flashlight into his front pocket. The board and saw made a clumsy burden; somehow, he managed to get them up the stairs to Stewart and Tom. Amelia was outside of Jessica's door in Sarah's robe, the door was closed behind her.

"That looks a little long Max," said Stewart.

Max held up the saw, which he noticed was bent at the end from using it as a shovel. Stewart nodded. Max lifted the board and noted that he needed to take off a couple of feet to make it fit as a wedge against the attic access door. He opted to take off about a foot and a half; he could trim more off if he needed to. After sawing frantically, he lifted the shorter board into place. It would not fit directly, however, with it propped diagonally, one end where the hallway wall was, it fit snuggly against the door. Up above the shuffling continued, never quite getting over the access.

"Probably she won't climb onto the access, the ladder is folded up on it, and she'll probably wander around the rest of the attic, so this is just a precaution. In the morning I will get screws and my drill and drill the access shut."

Stewart looked at him and said, "I can do it Max, still if you want me to."

With Amelia and Tom looking on, Max leaned against the wall and said, "No, let's just leave it like this for now. I am so tired of all this...really."

"Will she come through the ceiling?" Tom asked pointing up at the hole they had repaired before.

"Maybe, it is lathe and plaster over the rooms; only the hallway and master bedroom are sheet rock. I don't know which is stronger, thank God, she didn't balloon up into a fat woman after we got married, and she is still pretty light. I think she will be okay. The gun is up there."

"I don't think she will figure out how to use it Max," said Amelia, "They don't get smart right away."

"I think they get smarter by eating people," said Tom, they all looked at him. "Like vampires, I mean most of them are very dumb, only a few are pretty smart, some of them can talk. It is as good a theory as any."

The others nodded.

"That goes along with what Juan said this morning. So now what?" Max asked Stewart.

"We are rotating sleeping, Tom is on now." Stewart looked at her watch, "He has another hour to go, and then Amelia, I take last watch so I can get the coffee going. You are not 'on' tonight. We figured with," Stewart looked upwards, "that going on you would be busy. Why don't you crash on the couch so if something happens you can be woke up real quick by whoever is keeping watch?"

"Okay. I am sorry Stewart, about this, if I could have, I mean I was even, going to do it, I mean." said Max

"Don't worry about it. I am crashing in Nick's room. We'll deal with Sarah in the morning, okay?"

"Okay."

Max and Tom went downstairs and Max settled on the couch. Tom turned on the television and flipped through all the channels, seeing only static.

"Turn on the satellite TV, see if they have anything." suggested Max, "Here let me do it."

Max flipped through four hundred channels of television, a few channels were showing old movies, one Spanish channel was still broadcasting music videos, but all the news channels were off the air. Max put the remote down and chatted with Tom for a short time before he drifted off to doze fitfully the rest of the night.

Chapter 53

"This is Blake, still holding up here at WWEB. I am sorry to say that the last group of guys who tried to get though here earlier this morning was not successful and they looked like a bunch of national guardsmen to me. I have to tell you folks that there are too many zombies down there, hell it looks like all of them showed up at my doorstep, the streets are just full of them. So. Well I hate to say it. I have to though, don't try again folks. If a bunch of guys with machine guns, hummers and tanks cannot break me out, I am afraid no one can. If you know someone with a helicopter, you might send him my way. Until then I am going to try and sit tight here..." Blake had the doors propped open from the studio all the way into the hallway, he heard a crashing sound, followed by the sounds of breaking glass.

"Well forget it folks, it looks like my show just got canceled." Keeping his mic and headphones on Blake moved over and shut the studio door, locking it shut. He had no illusions that whatever had gotten through the fire door would be held at bay by the glass of the studio walls. Irrationally he could not give up. Diane said he was the last one left on the air and every word he spoke would help someone else. Returning to sit at his stool, he started speaking once again. "Yeah, they are definitely in. Remember by the last report I had heard that the roads east, south and north were pretty clear, interstate seventy into the mountains is a wrecking yard, impassible from what everyone I spoke to said. I am sorry I can't stay on the air any longer." A group of zombies filed into the two rooms that abutted the radio sound booth. "They are mean looking bastards, these zombies. What the fuck are you?" This last was said when a massively huge man stepped into Blake's view, his eyes, Blake swore to God, were glowing, "Fuck me, his eyes, his eyes, what the hell is wrong with him?" Blake found himself on his feet moving towards the man, who then gestured at him to go to the door to the sound booth, Blake tried to resist, but something compelled him to move forward and unlock the door. He pulled it open then moved around to stand in front of the doorway, hands twitching by his sides. Listeners did not hear Blake speak again, a new voice came on and they heard it fill their speakers with, "I am Og."

At Max's house they were all up again, drinking strong coffee and listening to the radio with keen horror, hearing what they thought were the DJ's last words. Erin sat in Stewart's lap; Amelia held Jessica and the boys were busy in the living room, playing video games. Max held the remote in his hands, ready to kill the power if things got too bad. The radio was on low, hardly giving any sound off. The adults listened with rapt attention as the new voice spoke, "I am your future, as my master made me so shall you join me..." Then static, at the same time there was a bright flash outside of Max's house far to the east, the ground rumbled and the windows rattled in their frames. When Stewart pulled the curtain back they saw a billowing flame climbing high into the air that formed a large, mushroom shaped, cloud.

End

Author's Note –

As a first book, this one took me a couple of years to finish. The writing was finished in about seven months, but the editing, ugh! Don't get me started about the editing. I am a firm believer in editing...now. Unfortunately, I have the editing skills of a slow zombie; this is the second edition of the book, and by 'second', I mean 'eleventh'. I've read through Outbreak many times and in each instance, I am 'sure' I caught all the errors and each time I am wrong. Hopefully, this version of the story overcame the many misspelled words, poor sentence structure and grammatical errors that I have missed. I never set out to write an American Classic and have always felt that a decent book should be easy to read and make me look back on it with fond memories as an escape from the minor problems life was throwing at me at the time. If I have done this for a few people then I have done my job.

Thanks to the following people for their editing help and general advice: Doree Anne Colon, Mike Keleman, Jesse Masoner, Anne Clodi and Mike Picco. Also thanks to the people who left reviews of my work online, sometimes it is painful for me to read, but it made the work better in the end.

I have written a few other novels set in the 'Zombie Chronicles' universe, most of which are not connected directly with this book, however I do have this strange desire to connect all the works in some way, you can find the links if you hunt for them hard enough.

The next book in this series is "The Zombie Chronicles 2: Discovery" and the final book in the trilogy is "The Zombie Chronicles 3: Ascension". The story of Max will be a trilogy, no more, no less. I like the character, but I have no plans to use him beyond three books, he'll need a rest by the time I am finished anyway.

Any affiliated novels will have a title like "Undead Advantage: A Zombie Chronicles Novel" or "About a Woman: A Zombie Chronicles Novel", just to keep things easy.

You can keep up with my progress at my website: www.ctales.com, where you will find no advertising and plenty of lightly edited things to read, including numerous short stories of those who didn't make it through World War Z and a few non-zombie related pieces of fiction as well.

Thanks for reading!

Mark Clodi

April 7th, 2012

**Mark Clodi** (born March 30th, 1969) is the author of many zombie and science fiction novels and short stories. At an early age, Mark was hooked on fantasy and the pulp fiction of the 'Golden Age of Science Fiction'. While moving around the mid-west with his parents he continued to feed his frenzied reading by buying fiction at yard sales and utilizing the local libraries. The thought of actually becoming a writer struck him at an early age, but he never followed through on his dream until he was much older and 'settled in' to a career as a computer programmer. His writing started one day while trading emails back and forth with Mike Keleman, the co-author of his first book. They started assigning chapter numbers to the emails and the rest, as they say, is history.

He lives in a small town in Iowa in the United States with his wife, two daughters, two dogs and two cats. On any given Saturday night no matter what the temperature, rain or shine, you can find him on the rough 'man-deck' behind his house grilling ribs, reading and listening to the radio by the light of a kerosene lantern.

Mark's latest and greatest works are always available at no charge on his website located at http://www.ctales.com/

An excerpt from **The Zombie Chronicles II** :

Chapter 1

The police cruiser slewed sideways on the highway, not an unexpected event. Max had noted a debris field indicating they were coming up to yet another accident in the road. What was unexpected was the sudden lurch to the right that the cruiser made as two of its tires blew out. The driver of the car, Jane Stewart, brought it to a controlled stop along the shoulder, near the crest of a small hill. Max groaned aloud, "Not again!" Then he slammed on the brakes of the minivan he was driving, the brakes were of the anti-lock variety and he slowed to a stop while keeping control easily. He hoped he had stopped before hitting whatever the cruiser had hit.

Beside Max, his son Nick sat staring intently out the window.

"I don't see what they hit. I can't see anything." Max had been relying on his son to help him avoid any debris on the highway, in fact whomever sat in the shotgun seat had to keep an eye on the road. Even going twenty to thirty miles an hour, they still ran over some things. There were times the entire highway was closed off from wrecks and as they traveled along interstate seventy-six they had also come across one bridge that looked like it had been blown up on purpose. That was an ominous sign that Max took to mean they were behind enemy lines. Skirting the blown bridge had caused them to detour about thirty miles out of their way, but they had lucked out and found another wrecked state trooper vehicle, from which they had taken three good tires.

Stopping well shy of the cruiser, Max directed the occupants of his car to get the brooms out and start sweeping the glass out of the way, while he went forward to check on Stewart and Tom, who were in the other car. Max had to pick his way carefully through a ton of broken glass. He couldn't tell what it has come from, but the shards were pretty bad. The scrub brush on the side of the road did not offer any concealment to anything in the land around the highway. This was good, some of the zombies seemed to be smarter than others and it could have been an ambush. Oh yes, the zombies had grown clever, they were hard to kill, requiring massive damage to their brain to send into the afterlife, again, and they had an insatiable hunger for human flesh. Max had even reasoned with some of the smarter ones, who seemed to remember their past. Thinking, fast moving and nearly indestructible zombies made for pretty fierce opponents and Max was not sure, how humanity was going to survive the war they were now engaged in.

Nukes seemed to be on the table. Max had been in Arvada, a suburb city of Denver, two days ago when the government had dropped a nuclear bomb close to the Denver International Airport on top of a radio station. The DJ, Blake 'the snake', had kept broadcasting in the week since the zombie infestation had started, living off of bottled water and the station's vending machines. His coworkers had deserted him one by one until he was left alone. Blake barricaded the doors to his building and to the floor of his building too and kept the whole place running on generators. Unfortunately, some of the more intelligent zombies heard his broadcast too and they had surrounded the place. For some reason the smarter zombies seemed to attract the less intelligent ones around them in droves and the constant efforts by outsiders to rescue the DJ had not been able to get through the surrounding undead. The last effort, by the Colorado National Guard, had involved a whole convoy of troops; they had Humvees, tanks and even a helicopter. The zombies numbered in the tens of thousands, the convoy troops numbered in the hundreds. Blake had given a play by play of the fighting, including accounts of the smart zombies using rifles of the fallen guardsmen. The convoy was bogged down, then surrounded and then almost completely wiped out. A single column of troops got away, although Blake reported that individual soldiers might have escaped too, because his view was limited. The zombies relished their victory and even more of the things mobbed the station. Finally, when they realized that no one else was coming to save Blake, they broke into the building and the radio audience listened as Blake gave his last performance. It ended in a few chaotic words that didn't make any sense and a white flash of superheated light, the federal government had set off a nuclear bomb with the station at ground zero.

The morning the bomb fell Max had watched his wife turn into a zombie, she had been bitten and died within twenty-four hours of being infected. Through a series of mishaps he ended up leaving her in the attic where she died, Max had been lucky not to break his neck when he fell out of the attic access while getting away from her. Together with his companions, they had fled Denver, passing not too far from ground zero themselves. His traveling companions were Jane Stewart, a former police officer, Tom Eby a computer administrator for MAC CO. where Max had worked before the current crises and Amelia Bryon, also from Mac CO. That rounded out the adults, who were all wounded and tired, but so far, 'bite' free. They had also picked up Max's kids, Nick who was ten and Jessica who was seven. Amelia had brought along a boy she had found who was also ten and his name was Cory. The last child they found in the Cadillac that Amelia had driven to Arvada. The girl had a bandaged wrist and appeared to be twelve or thirteen years old. So far, she had not been too talkative, but Amelia had coaxed her name out of her – Erin.

The drive from Denver had been extremely stressful on all of them, one moment they were driving at a walking pace through smoky burning suburbia with no one in sight, the next they were hitting the gas and driving far too fast for conditions trying to get away from zombie mobs that seemingly sprang up from the very ground. Every place they stopped was empty and quiet, like an old western movie just before the big gunfight. It didn't help matters that Max thought there would be gunfire at the end of every one of those silent scenes. The zombies seemed to be attracted to the living in the usual ways people were attracted to each other; noise and sight; a light in the darkness was a very bad thing now. In addition, they seemed to smell their prey and it was almost as if they could somehow sense them through walls too, nowhere seemed particularly safe.

Stewart and Tom drove the point car, Stewart's police cruiser about two hundred yards ahead of Max in the minivan, which had Amelia and the kids in it. Amelia switched off with Nick from time to time and kept all the kids in line. The entire group had seen enough horrors over the last two days of travel to remove any doubt that this was a full-blown catastrophe. They were tentatively traveling to North Platte, where Tom's parents lived on a ranch out about a few miles from town. After that Max wanted to move on to Iowa, where he had a friend with a large house and some land. They had not received any news from anyone so far. Their cell phones had stopped working two days ago, and they could get nothing but static on any televisions they tried or on the car radios.

Tom was proving to be a handy resource in an odd variety of ways. He had come up with a pump and hose that operated off the electric power of the vehicles, more and more often the electricity was completely out wherever they stopped for the night. No electricity meant, no way to pump fuel. An hour of poking through the zombie-infested remains of a small prairie town brought Tom out with the electric pump. Tom said he learned all about such things on the farm growing up and was now very glad he has some practical knowledge that could help them out. They could keep the cars fueled, so long as they could find a gas station and get the storage tanks opened. They also grabbed a dozen two-gallon fuel cans from a big box store and had them filled up and strapped on top of the van, with two more in the cruiser. They had a tarp strapped over the ones in the roof rack, but Max was still nervous about driving around with all that fuel over his head.

After North Platte, where Tom planned on staying, Max planned to continue traveling with anyone who wanted to go with him and his kids to his friend Bill's house. Bill went way back with Max, they grew up on the same street when they were kids and attended the same schools, albeit Max was four years younger and had not ever gone to the same school with Bill at the same time. As the only two boys on a street full of girls, the two were bound to become friends, despite the age difference. The friendship born in primary school continued through high school and even prospered into college and beyond. After college, Bill had moved around a lot, only returning to Denver to find and marry his wife. Still he visited Max once every year and the women they had married got along well too, which made things easier as everyone looked forward to the annual visits in the fall.

Unlike Max, Bill had started his family early, barely out of college and he had five children now, the oldest was seventeen and they alternated in gender down from there every two years. Max had kidded Bill that he and his wife were like machines; you could set a clock by the birthing of their children. Bill worked in technology as a computer programmer, but he was always spouting off about Armageddon and being prepared for whatever life threw at you. He was heavy into Boy Scouts of America as well, his oldest son had made Eagle Scout a year early and his other boys were involved in camping, hunting and fishing all year round. The only complaint Sarah, Max's wife, had about Bill was that he seemed much more focused on the boys of the family than the girls. On more than one occasion, she had heard Bill say he took care of the boys and his wife, Trisha, took care of the girls.

Max knew Bill would be ready for the storm of zombies. He knew with the financial markets fluctuating so badly over the past few years that Bill had been planting large gardens on his land, learning how to preserve meat by drying it out and teaching the boys to hunt and fish as more than a hobby. Max was hoping his perception was not off, that his friend would be the rock in the storm that he needed him to be right now. Somewhere in the back of Max's mind, there was a little nagging thought that things might not go as planned, Bill could get fickle when his families welfare was on the line, would he treat Max as family or as a drain on the family resources? It was a small disturbing thought and Max resolved to show up to Bill's house with as many resources as he could cram into the van, if that meant driving seven hundred miles with gas cans on the top of the car, then that was what he would do. 
