"Pick her up!" Graham finally called to the group, breaking the silence. "Let's get her inside."
Most stared at him in bewildered shock, but Graham and another smoker pushed forward, picking the injured girl up at her head and feet, and carried her quickly, but carefully, into the club, while Dylan held the door open.
"Stop the music," Graham called again when they were inside. "We've got an emergency here."
Those nearest the door spread apart, clearing some space, while a wave of puzzlement rippled back into the club. At their table, Amber and Jared craned their necks, trying to see what was happening. "What's going on?" Jared wondered aloud.
"It looks like there's someone lying on the floor," Amber replied, and they both got up to push through the crowd.
As an explanation of what was happening was passed from person to person, understanding flowed through the room. The music was finally shut off, and the soundtrack of the club became the din of confused whispers. Behind the bar, someone dialed 911.
"Give her space!" Graham told everyone as they surged forward for closer looks.
"Is she OK?" Amber asked, nudging her way next to Graham. "What happened?"
Graham shook his head. "I dunno. There was this wind or something. She got knocked into the wall."
"I'm sorry, did you say she got knocked out by wind?" Jared repeated.
"I don't know what it was!" Graham said, standing. "All I know is, something knocked over a bunch of trees and dented some cars, and then it hit her!"
Jared raised an eyebrow. "Wind can't dent cars."
"Well if it wasn't the wind, it was something invisible, so I don't know what to tell you!"
On the floor, the girl's eyelids sprang open to reveal blank white orbs. She shot up, continuing past a standing position, to again hover, this time floating free of any walls. Her head lolled as a demented grin stretched across her face.
"Foolish creatures," she rasped, her voice sounding like dozens whispering in almost perfect unison. "Why have you awakened us once again?"
The club went quiet. Not a single person uttered a word as they stared up at the girl, afraid to even blink. The only sound was her low chuckling.
"Dude…" Dylan breathed to Graham. "What the fuck?"
"I… I don't…"
Grabbing Amber's arm, Jared pulled her back, away from the floating girl. "C'mon," he urged, his voice low. "We need to get out of here."
"We don't even know what's going on," she responded, her brow furrowed.
"What, do you have an explanation that's not out of a horror movie?"
"Maybe it's…" Amber trailed off, thinking. "Ok, there has to be a logical explanation."
Without warning, the girl flew forward, her hands gnarled into stiff claws. She plowed into someone in the middle of the crowd, bringing them to the ground. From their place near the front of the club, Amber and Jared couldn't see what was happening over the heads of the rest of the mass of people, but there was a ripping sound, and the screams of the girl's victim echoed throughout the room.
Some of those closer to what was happening rushed forward, trying to pull the girl away. As the screams turned to wet gurgles choked by blood, those who tried to help were flung up above the audience, landing in a heap on the club's other patrons.
Jared kept pulling Amber towards the door, dragging her in her stupor towards potential safety. Noticing their escape, Graham and Dylan followed, keeping their eyes focused on the centre of the room.
"You should not have awoken us," another strange whisper hissed from the far corner of the club.
"You have disturbed our slumber," a third voice came from behind the bar.
"And now we hunger," a final voice roared near the door. The club erupted into screams of terror and agony as the owners of the voices flung themselves into the masses of people, tearing at their flesh with inhuman strength.
"Now do you think we should go?" Jared demanded as he forced his sister out the door and halfway across the parking lot, Dylan and Graham following close behind.
"Man, where are you going? We don't know what the fuck that was!" Graham shouted at Jared's fleeing back.
"Yeah?" Jared answered, whirling around to face Graham. "So what was it? What the hell could that possibly be?"
"Maybe it's a publicity stunt or some shit, I don't know!"
"Guys…" Amber interrupted, trying to calm them down.
"A publicity stunt? Seriously? That looked pretty goddamn real to me."
"Listen to yourself! It didn't look real, because it's not something that happens in real life. What do you even think it was, some zombie apocalypse bullshit?"
"Guys?" Amber tried again.
"I don't know what I think, I just know we need to get away from it."
"Guys!" Amber yelled over them, pointing towards the club door.
The girl they'd dragged inside, the first to attack the people in the club, stood just outside the club door. Her skin was grey and mottled, and her hands and forearms, along with the front of her dress, were drenched in blood. Her hair, in a thick tangle, was strewn in front of her face, so that her only visible feature was her bloody smile.
The group stood perfectly still for a long moment before, at once, they all ran for Graham's car. Behind them they heard shrieks of laughter coming closer and closer. Even though the car was nearby, the mirth was ear-shattering by the time they whipped the doors open and dove inside. The girl kept laughing as she plowed into the car, banging against the windshield and leaving handprints and long, bloody streaks. The engine started with a thin whine and Graham hit the gas, reversing the car at full speed out onto the road, jarring everyone in the car as he switched gears, speeding forward down the dark, wooded road as abruptly as he'd left the parking lot.
There was a long silence inside the car. "Jared, man," Graham forced out, laughing nervously, "You're gonna be so embarrassed when you find out it was all some kinda joke."
"I'm ok with that."
Not another word was spoken until the car reached the small main street less than two minutes later. As they reached the familiar lights and buildings of their hometown, the occupants of the car leaned forward, gaping out the windows. Normally no one would have been out at this hour; everything would be dark except street lights, and the streets themselves would be deserted.
Not tonight. Tonight, windows were shattered and the air was filled with screams. A car, partially blocking the road, was ablaze, and next to it a man fought for his life against a woman with skin grey like the girl at the club.
"Fuckin' zombie apocalypse," Graham said softly.
A hand clasped Graham's shoulder and he jumped in surprise. He turned to see Dylan leaning forward, looking at him intently. "We need to go get Ash," Dylan told him.
For a moment Graham's mouth tried to form words, but nothing came out. "Right," he finally said, nodding in agreement. "Right. No soldier left behind." With that he hit the gas, speeding to the other end of town.
"Fuck," Dylan swore as the pulled into the parking lot of the S-Mart, minutes later. "We're gonna have to deal with Hole."
"What kind of a name is Hole, anyways?" Jared asked.
"It's not really his name."
"Then why do you call him that?"
"Because he's a dickweed," Dylan snorted. "He's just an assistant manager, but he runs this place like it's his own private boot camp. He's the only guy who works there who won't let anyone call him by his first name. Says it's about respect or some shit. He thinks he's King Shit even though he spent his whole life working at S-Mart."
"You're just mad because he noticed you came into work high," Jared pointed out.
"Shut up," Dylan retorted. "Let's just get Ash and go."
Graham drove through the empty parking lot, coming to a stop just outside the main door of the enormous store. The group got out of the car, half walking, half jogging to the entrance. Behind them, the sound of wind seemed to come from nowhere, before it picked up, becoming louder. The noise became more distinct, separating itself into individual giggles, and they turned around.
A grey arm, bent at a harsh angle and ending in a bony hand covered in scratches, was reaching out from beneath the car. The fingers clawed into the pavement, dragging the rest of the body out. The laughing grew louder.
"Jesus Christ, she followed us from the club?" Graham cried, staring in shock.
Beside him, Dylan turned and bolted to the entrance of the S-Mart. The glass rattled as he pounded rapidly on the door. "Ash!" he screamed. "Ash, let us in!"
"You left so soon," the rotted-looking girl rasped, rising to her feet. "You missed the party."
Graham, Jared and Amber began backing away, keeping their eyes on the girl stumbling towards them, while Dylan kept hammering his fist against the glass. "Ash! Come on!" he yelled desperately.
A girl with long, black hair, olive skin and narrow eyes came into view, turning to come down an aisle stuffed with lawn care supplies to stride briskly towards the door. She raised her hands and shoulders in a shrug of frustration, her expression demanding to know what anyone could want at this hour.
As she neared them, Dylan heard the girl, muffled through the glass, ask: "What?"
"Let us in, Ash!" Dylan begged Ashley.
"Dylan, I'm working," she shook her head before her eyes shifted to the girl behind them. Taking in the girl's milky eyes and ripped, dead skin, she gasped. "What's wrong with her?"
"We don't know," Jared said, finally tearing his vision away from the girl to intercede. "But she's trying to kill us!"
Ashley studied Jared's face before she nodded once. The lock clicked open with a heavy sound, and she pulled the door open quickly, standing aside to let her friends in. They rushed past her, and she pushed the door shut as hard as she could before locking it again and backing away, staring at the girl outside. With a deranged grin, the girl raised her fist, beating it slowly against the glass in a grotesque parody of Dylan's desperation, leaving bloody smears. Finally, she brought her hand down harder than she should have been able to, and the entire pane of glass shattered, falling away.
The group watching jumped back a step. Amber let out a short shriek, and Ashley grabbed Dylan's arm. "What the fuck is going on?" she demanded. Dylan could only shake his head in numb shock.
The girl stepped through the empty doorframe, slowly approaching them. "Uh, guys…" Jared said, his voice low. "I think we should run."
Jared's words took a moment to register, and then, as one, they turned and ran. The girl howled with laughter and followed them as they raced through the aisles. At the end of the aisle they split up, everyone unsure of which way to go or whether to stay together. Graham and Amber dashed to the right, Jared to the left, and Ashley and Dylan kept in a straight line, sprinting for the back of the store, hoping not to lose speed by turning.
Unfortunately for them, the girl seemed to agree with the advantage of keeping to a straight path. Ashley risked a peek over her shoulder, and saw that the girl was just behind them, reaching out long, gnarled fingers. As they exited the aisle, escaping into the large open space of S-Mart's electronics section, Ashley gasped as the girl lunged forward, snagging Dylan's t-shirt and wrenching him back. He screamed as the girl dug her nails into his arm, ripping five long furrows into his skin.
Dylan's sneakers squeaked against the floor, fighting to get a grip as he struggled back. Ashley held his other arm, helping him pull against the girl, both of them losing. A deafening boom thundered throughout the store, echoing into the high rafters of S-Mart, and bits of plaster rained down from the ceiling. The three froze, their battle suddenly paused.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we're closed," a voice announced from further back in the store. Ashley, Dylan and the girl's heads all whipped around to locate whoever was speaking. Their eyes came to rest on a shotgun held high in the air. Their gaze traveled down, past the prosthetic hand with its finger on the trigger, to the man with the gun. His black hair was streaked in places with white, and he held his prominent chin up defiantly, his eyes burning. In his left hand, he held a long-handled axe.