After Life | Book 2 | Life After Life Page 4

  This time, with Michelle standing in front of her, Celia knew exactly how dangerous her actions were. But she also knew this whole thing was her idea, and she couldn’t very well back down. So she stood her ground, next in line behind Michelle, despite the fact that her legs felt like they each weighed 80 pounds.

  “When we open this door,” Michelle said, tapping the door that marked their exit, “things ought to be pretty safe. But I don’t want to make too many assumptions. So you’re all going to do two things: You’re going to have your guns at the ready, and you’re going to run. Turn right out the door, and hurry around.” She turned toward Simon. “How many vehicles did they leave out front?”

  “Two,” Simon said. “The one with the tire Mr. Lowensen slashed, and the one I used to block the door. Our cars are off to the side of the building, but those are the only humvees left.”

  Michelle nodded. Celia agreed with the question; she wanted to take the humvees if possible; it was a more versatile, more reliable vehicle, it could hold them all relatively comfortably. And, if Celia’s very faint memories of the vehicles that passed them on the road the day before were accurate, there was a chance the rear compartment of the vehicle was stocked with arms, though that would only be a bonus.

  On the other hand, Celia thought, her own father’s car — while not necessarily the most reliable or off-road-capable — was unquestionably well-stocked with food and extra ammo. And it would feel like home, for whatever that was worth. Celia wanted to take one of the Army vehicles if possible, but she wouldn’t turn her nose at her father’s car if it came to it.

  “When we leave here,” Michelle said, “we’re going right, around the building that way. We’ll pass by our cars that way, so if we can’t get to the humvee, we’ll have another way station on the way.

  “Stay close to the building,” she went on, “and stay quiet. There’s every chance there are more zombies out there.”

  Celia nodded, and she saw Stacy do the same. Behind them, she was sure the boys agreed, because Michelle turned back to the door and pushed it open. Celia felt herself squint at the sunlight. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been inside the Wal-Mart, let alone how long they’d been sleeping, but it was either nighttime or early morning, as the sun was low on the horizon and had managed to shine directly in through the doorway they were about to exit — Celia had no clue which direction on the compass she was facing.

  Nonetheless, the door was open, and it was time to go. Michelle stepped outside, and Celia moved to follow.

  Before she could go more than a step, though, Celia stopped, as the sound of a gunshot rang out. An instant later, the door next to Michelle echoed with the impact of a bullet.

  Michelle dove back inside, and the others ducked as low as they could and pulled back. The door was still open a few inches, but no one dared to approach it to pull it back closed.

  “Who was that?!” Stacy asked in an elevated whisper to Michelle, who was opposite the doorway from the others.

  Michelle shook her head. “I didn’t see anyone,” she said. Celia leaned out as far as she dared and looked out the door herself, but she couldn’t see anything either.

  A second later, a deep male voice piped up from outside and answered their questions. “We told you this was our building!”

  Celia felt herself grow cold, and a look at the others showed they felt the same. She didn’t know where they had gone or why they’d waited outside the building until then, but there was no mistaking the meaning behind those words.

  The Camp Edwards folk had come back. And they wanted the Wal-Mart.

  Chapter Six: Half A Second

  Michelle didn’t know how close the bullet had come to her head, but it was certainly the closest she had come to death throughout the ordeal. She had heard the bullet, had felt heat coming off it.

  Diving back inside hadn’t been intentional. It was instinct. If she had taken even half a second to think about it, she’d have pulled the door closed behind her when she came back in. On the other hand, if she had taken even half a second to think about it, she probably would have gotten shot by a second bullet, so it was just as well.

  None of them knew what to say in response to the shout from outside, so all was silent for a minute. The door was still open, though, so the silence didn’t last for long.

  “You’re coming out of there!” the voice boomed again. “One way or another!”

  Michelle knew silence wasn’t going to placate them for long, not with them now making zombie-attracting noises. She didn’t want to have to explain to them that they were leaving an already-fortified facility and didn’t want to explain where they were going. And she didn’t think they’d accept any explanation she tried to offer anyway.

  “We thought you left!” she cried, just for something to say while she thought.

  “We did!” he replied. Michelle thought it sounded like he was getting closer, though that could just as easily have been her worried imagination. “Got five miles on, ran out of gas, others didn’t notice. Thought we’d come back for the other Hummer, saw you had worked things out here. If you remember, this was ours first. And we want it back!”

  By the end of his speech, there was no doubt to Michelle that he was drawing near. The fact that it didn’t appear to be all the Guardsmen was a benefit, but Michelle still wasn’t about to step out and wave.

  Stacy, angled toward where they had to be approaching from, was already sliding down from the door, pulling herself out of an obvious line of sight. With Celia and the boys even further back, Michelle knew the only way to close the door would be for her to do it, and that would mean being exposed to the Guardsmen, even if only for a second.

  Michelle looked across the doorway again, to where the young people were huddling. Suddenly, she realized that Stacy was no longer scooting back from the door, was no longer hiding herself. She had changed direction, back toward the door again. And she was drawing her weapon.

  Michelle wanted to cry out, warn Stacy against starting to fire a shot when she didn’t know how many there were, if she saw any at all. She hesitated just a second, wondering if an alarmed voice from her side of the wall would spark a reaction from their attackers the same as a gunshot. That hesitation, then, gave Michelle the chance to see Stacy’s true intentions, as she pointed her gun not out the door, but at it.

  Stacy wasn’t trying to fend off their attackers. She was trying to make the building undesirable to them.

  It had worked once. When the front door to the Wal-Mart building had been damaged, the Guardsmen had left with almost no hesitation, not stopping to figure out what had taken Simon only a moment of thought. They now knew what Simon had done, so they might not leave so fast this time, but they also couldn’t very well block both doors with cars — then they’d either be stuck inside or stuck outside. Regardless, Michelle’s group no longer cared about the Wal-Mart building, and the Guardsmen did — that gave Michelle and her group an advantage.

  Stacy fired her gun at the doorknob, catching it flush and ripping it from its mooring. Almost as suddenly, a cry of surprise came from outside the building. It was close to the door, but whoever it was obviously hadn’t been able to see Stacy’s movements. The next thing Michelle heard was the original man’s voice crying “Get back!” and retreating footsteps.

  She didn’t know what to do next. From her spot on that side of the doorway, Michelle could only see Stacy and the others craning their necks to see outside, but she couldn’t hope to see anything for herself. Michelle gave it as long as she could, listening to the strangers outside running away, before she asked.

  “Are they gone?”

  Stacy kept her eyes trained outside for a few seconds before answering. “I’m not sure,” she said at last. “I can’t see them anymore, but they didn’t run straight away. They ran to the corner of the building and around, like they were trying to stay close to it.”

  Michelle nodded. They weren’t going to leave as quickly as they h
ad the first time. They were, she was guessing, going for one of the cars she and her group had taken to get to the Wal-Mart. If they had seen what Stacy had done, they might be just leaving. But in the excitement of the gunshot and running away, it’s possible they hadn’t noticed what Stacy’s shot had accomplished. In that case, they might be using the car to get close to the building under the cover of a vehicle, and that would get them close enough to cause problems for Michelle and the others.

  She stood up. “We’ve got to go,” she said. “Now!” The students, surprised, stood up and looked at Michelle with curiosity.

  Michelle checked Stacy’s work on the door, confirming that it was no longer a door that would be very effective. She was impressed the girl had thought of it.

  “Okay,” she said. “We’re going the other way around the building now. There won’t be any cars along the way, but there won’t be any people trying to kill us, either.”

  Michelle glanced outside, saw they were still in the clear, and nodded to the others to go. Stacy and Celia rounded the door at a run, with Michelle just behind. Simon, helping Brandon along, brought up the rear.

  This was different for Michelle. Despite the noise and the open area, she couldn’t see any zombies yet, though she knew there was a good enough chance there could be one around any of the building’s corners. Still, though, this was a dead sprint away from people. This wasn’t what she was supposed to be doing in any world, let alone a zombie-infested one. But the Guardsmen had proven they weren’t the type to be convinced of anything, even if you had the chance to talk.

  So they ran. Michelle was faster than the girls, and with Simon having to support Brandon, he quickly fell behind, so she got to the corner of the building first and looked back. Celia and Stacy passed her in short order. The boys, though, were slower, and Michelle saw as she looked back that the car — Andy’s car — being driven by one of the Guardsmen was coming around the corner.

  “Just let them be,” Michelle found herself whispering. It was clear Michelle and the kids were abandoning the Wal-Mart, letting the Guardsmen have it. That should have been enough. They had no reason to continue targeting them, not unless they thought Michelle and the kids would turn back around and try to invade the Wal-Mart again.

  Which, apparently, they did, as Michelle saw the car accelerate as the boys came into view, and she could see the driver’s-side window rolling down. The driver, who had to be the same man who had been yelling in at Michelle earlier, reached a gun-wielding hand out the window and pointed it toward Simon and Brandon.

  “Get down!” Michelle cried as a pair of shots rang out. Simon and Brandon both ducked low, though they stayed on their feet as they ran. Michelle started to raise her own weapon, but stopped. She had no idea where the shots went, whether they would have hit the boys had they not ducked, but they were fine, and the driver seemed to feel he had gotten his point across, as he withdrew his hand again, and the car started to decelerate as they reached the doorway.

  Simon and Brandon reached the corner and turned, and the five of them continued to circle the building. “We have to hurry,” Michelle told them. “They have to know we want the Hummer at the front door, and they aren’t about to let us just have it.”

  “What do we do if they get to the door before we leave?” Stacy asked from ahead of Michelle, breathless.

  Michelle didn’t answer. She didn’t have one to offer. She just hoped they won the race.

  They kept running, crossing the short side of the building. Celia and Stacy, who hadn’t slowed when Michelle had, passed the next corner and disappeared from view. Simon and Brandon were keeping up as best they could, but Michelle was the next to reach the corner and turn toward their escape.

  Everything appeared to be in working order along that side of the building. Simon’s description had been accurate — there was a Hummer parked right against the wall that appeared to be in fine shape, save for the fact that its passenger-side rearview mirror was broken off by the wall, and there were likely a few scratches from where Simon had scraped the wall parking it. A few dozen yards away, there was another vehicle that leaned to its rear right, sitting on a completely flat tire. It would need a spare in place before it was going to go more than a few feet, and that wasn’t time they had.

  Michelle wondered how long it would take the Guardsmen to realize the state of the door. None of them had seen the other door that had been damaged, so they might not get it right away, but it wouldn’t take long. Maybe that meant they’d go after Michelle and the others even more seriously.

  Almost immediately after having that thought, Michelle realized it didn’t matter. They were running. Whether the Guardsmen were coming for them hard, coming just to protect the Humvee, or not bothering, she wasn’t interested in finding out, not in the wake of gunshots that were sure to attract some Z’s. If the Guardsmen were smart, they’d be happy to barricade one door, block the other as best they could, and stay in the Wal-Mart. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a long way from being a pure Out There.

  Out There. Even as she sprinted, Michelle couldn’t help feeling a bit of mourning at that phrase. Though she hadn’t had to survive in the open for any of 2010, not really, Madison and enough other people in her life had, and that made Michelle still feel the twinge of awe that the term inspired, and still feel the twinge of pity as well. It was a phrase, like “honored veteran,” before 2010, that carried weight. People bought you drinks or gave up their seats for you if you were an Out There. All because of the work of Peter Salvisa and his website.

  Michelle found it hard to reconcile the honor she still felt for the Out Theres with the revulsion she felt toward Salvisa. He was seen as the patriarch of the Out Theres, the man who knew all the tricks. But if not for him, none of it would have existed in the first place. Salvisa was the burglar who stole someone’s dog only to return it for the reward, but on the grandest possible scale.

  Making a mental note to try to resist using the phrase “Out Theres” anymore, Michelle doubled down on her speed. Celia and Stacy had reached the vehicle, with Stacy climbing in the driver’s seat and Celia jumping in behind her. Seconds later, the engine roared to life, just as Michelle was drawing nearer. She veered toward the wall of the Wal-Mart, jumping in the passenger door as Stacy slid out from the wall, leaving the broken rearview on the ground in its wake. The Wal-Mart door, with no catch, swung slightly open again as the car moved away from it.

  Michelle jumped on the running board along the passenger’s side of the vehicle and tapped the roof of the car to indicate “go,” then held on as Stacy drove to where Simon and Brandon were struggling along. She pulled the vehicle to a stop next to them, and Michelle pulled open the rear door for them to enter.

  Just as the boys climbed in the back, Michelle noticed the slightly ajar Wal-Mart door being pushed further open. With her weapon already in her hand and her own door not yet open, Michelle had little to do but aim and fire. Once again, just like when she had ducked back inside the Wal-Mart, Michelle didn’t take even half a second to ponder her actions. She moved on instinct, and her instinct said to raise and fire.

  She did, and at that instant she saw a middle-aged woman’s head appear in the doorway opening. The head was gone in a second, replaced by a spray of red and then nothing. Somewhere behind the now-dead woman, Michelle thought she could see the sign of more movement, of someone else approaching, but she didn’t trust her aim enough to wait; the boys were now safe in the Hummer, and she threw open her own door and climbed in.

  “Go!” she cried, as Stacy hit the gas, and Michelle and the others ducked as low as they could in the car. Less than a second later, a pair of shots rang out from the distance almost simultaneously, followed almost immediately by the sound of something hitting the back of the car. Michelle only heard one bullet hit the vehicle, though she knew there could just as easily have been two, with all the other commotion.

  She gave it a few seconds, as Stacy drove and she crouched. When
those shots were followed by no more, Michelle allowed herself the chance to peek out the back window. She didn’t know what to expect. The remaining Guardsmen could have been chasing them, could have retreated back inside, could have been trying to move the flat-tired vehicle back in front of the door. Anything was possible.

  And yet, even with that thought, Michelle was surprised by what she saw. With the door still open, she could see the body she had shot still lying, dead in the doorway. And there were of course several other bodies, the ones of the earlier Wal-Mart denizens, the first wave from the school that the Guardsmen had killed upon their initial arrival. But those bodies were joined by another flat body, male, apparently dead, lying some five feet outside of the doorway, right where the Hummer had been. It hadn’t been there before. And standing over that body was a middle-aged man in Army attire. The gun he held wasn’t pointed at the still-retreating Hummer; it was angled down at the body. After a second, Michelle recognized the new body as that of the man who had tried to shoot Simon and Brandon from behind the wheel of Andy’s car. The ringleader of the group.

  “Stop the car,” Michelle said.

  “What?” Stacy asked, incredulous. “Why?”

  “Just do it,” Michelle said. Stacy complied, pulling the Hummer to a stop. Michelle kept watching the man back at the Wal-Mart, who in turn watched the flat body on the ground. When it became clear the man was dead and not rising, he lowered his weapon. He didn’t look up, though, continuing to stare at the dead body. Eventually, he dropped the gun from his hand and crouched down.

  While the others waited — still with their heads down, following instructions — Michelle watched him for a full two minutes. He showed no signs of getting up, of going back inside, anything. He just looked at the body of the man he had shot. Out of her peripheral vision, Michelle noticed the appearance of a slow-moving zombie, apparently attracted by all the noise, moving toward the Wal-Mart. It was a long way away, and by itself barely a threat at all, but one meant more would be coming.