A/N: How about a Saturday/Wednesday thing. That can work.

The group was totally worn out from all the excitement of Friday's mad dash. Today is Monday. One entire week of zombies. Eric recovered after a night of sleep thankfully and we had a nice new sub-machine gun.

Me and Shirley spent the rest of the morning doing inventory in the lobby. Two 9mm pistols. 25 rounds of 9mm ammunition. A SMG with 150 odd rounds of ammo. Roughly a week worth of junk food and some water bottles. 5 people all ready, willing, and able to move. Right about noon we had a reason to do just that.

"Anyone see any zombies yet? I mean, we're right next to a giant pyre that's just begging for the undead to swarm it," I said with a touch of worry soaked in an attempt to lighten the pervasive somber mood. All that stood between us was a post office and some woods.

"No actually. You guys must've lost them on the way back here." Shirley answered.

"I'm not so sure. I'll go check."

I went into the stairwell and headed towards the roof. I opened the door to a cold wind, gray skies, and a slight rain. I peered out over the air conditioners and vents to the street and didn't see anything other than abandoned cars and a dried brownish red spot where I suppose someone met their fate. Looking west, I saw the post office abandoned and the forest empty.

When I made it back down the lights went out. "Oh fan-fucking-tastic!" I felt my way back into the library and tried to use the natural light in the cavernous main room to find my way back to the hideout. As soon as I put my hand on the knob I heard a scream.

It was Shirley's.

I raced downstairs and into the lobby to find Shirley pointing to a crowd of hundreds of zombies at the front doors. The explosion on Friday must've attracted them. The doors were plexiglass so it would take them maybe 10 minutes to get in. Everyone else came over almost immediately and we knew we had to go now.

"I say we lead them in, go to the roof and jump down into the parking lot. Get in the car and drive. They would all be in the library by the time we get there," I said. "We should drive west. Fuck going to Stop n' Shop. Too dangerous. Everyone and their grandma will be there just like Wal-Mart."

"You're right. Any objections?" Mark surprisingly agreed with me. Everyone else nodded. "Sean, you stay here and keep them busy while me and the gang go and get our stuff. I'll holler for you when we're ready. Then you open the doors and run as fast as you can to the stairwell. Can you do that?"

"I can do it." I wasn't entirely sure though. I couldn't run for too long but damnit adrenaline was a great thing. "Go! Before they get in by their own will."

They disappeared into the library and I turned to face the crowd. They were lamely banging on the door with their rotting fists. Not doing much. Maybe the door will hold, I thought. But one zombie came up with a brick and made a small but noticeable crack in the front line of doors. Wait, did he call us the gang?

It felt like hours but soon everyone was ready. Dannie, Eric and Shirley were upstairs and Mark called from the stairwell. "Let the bastards in!"

I walked up to the emergency door release button and slammed my fist down on it. The doors slid open and hundreds of zombies poured in from the street. Could've been a million for all I knew. My legs felt like solid pillars of marble as I stood there in horror. But I soon realized my predicament and hauled ass to the stairwell, some faster zombies at my heels. As I ran in Mark slammed the door and the runners impacted into the cold metal door and started to bang. "All clear!" I heard Eric shout.

Me and Mark ran up the stairs and sprinted to the edge of the awning over the main entrance. "Okay, one, two, THREE!" We all fell on the pavement. Shirley scraped her knee a bit and I felt my legs fall out from under me with the sudden impact.

Dannie, Eric and Mark took off for the car as Shirley helped me up. Some zombies must've stayed because we were beset by the undead not even fifty feet from the library entrance. They were easily dispatched with the night sticks and soon we were all in the cramped car. I had the back right seat.

"Lets get the fuck out of here!" The car jumped forward and on to the road. We passed Wal-Mart and saw what became of the superstore after the explosion. It was fairly intact but most of the walls had collapsed and it was still on fire after four days. I couldn't see any zombies though.

The car bumbled down the road for a minute before the adrenaline wore off. It hit me like a train hits a truck full of watermelons. I put my head down on the arm rest and nodded off. I didn't get a deep sleep because our impromptu journey stopped almost as soon as it started.

"Holy hand grenade of Antioch! A gun store!" Mark shouted with the glee of a small child seeing an amusement park for the first time. I couldn't blame him. We needed guns. He parked the car and Shirley, Eric, and I got out. Dannie and Mark stayed back.

We half-jogged to the gun shop thinking of what gun we'd grab. I slowed and got up against the wall next to the door. Eric followed suit and got against the opposite side. Shirley went right for the door. I heard a metallic creak as the doors swung open.

"Any zombies?" I asked hesitantly. A loud boom rang out and Shirley fell to the ground, chunks of her torso missing. She sputtered blood as the life drained from her eyes. I froze as a man wearing a bright hunting jacket walked out and aimed for Eric.

Another shot rang off as I came to my senses. I held up my gun and emptied the clip into the bastards back. He fell to the ground with a loud gurgle. It took a second to process what happened. Shirley was dead, Eric could be, and I just killed someone. I just killed another living human being. Dannie and Mark were running over. They slowed as they saw the scene before them. I now saw what happened to Eric. He was mostly intact, except for the head. It was entirely blown off.

I vomited on the asphalt. I'm a fucking murderer. Mark just looked at the bodies with a grimace and ran into the store. Dannie couldn't even look at Eric's body and ran in after him. A few seconds later they ran out with pistols, a few rifles, and a nice big bag of ammunition boxes. A bit of internal prodding made me get up and into the car. I took the back row with the guns on the floor as Mark took driver again and Dannie got shotgun.

"I'm... I'm a murderer" I asked, hoping to hear something, anything, to console me.

Mark sighed, "It seems so. I'm sorry your friend died. He seemed like a good kid. And Shirley, she was my neighbor. And she," He sighed again, "She was a good person. I'm really at a loss for words."

Dannie started to whimper and soon me and her began to cry. We both knew Eric for years and accepted him as a plain fact of life. A constant in our school career. After an hour of driving the crying died down into shaking sobs, then into a mere whimper every now and then. I sat up and looked out of the window. More small buildings in between of small forests.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Uhh, six o'clock. We need to stop and sleep soon." Mark answered.

"Goddammit! Where the hell can we stop?" Now I'm angry. This fucking guy, I don't even have the stomach to call him a human anymore, killed our friends in cold blood. I'm not the murderer here, he is.

"How about there?" Mark pointed to a small hovel-like place just off the road, "It looks clean and possibly defensible."

"Awesome. Go there then." I said. The car puttered into the parking lot and we hopped out. Each with a pistol and hunting rifle. I chose the one with a scope and a dark wood finish. It was shiny too and had these little buckles and hooks that made it look more aesthetic. What a weird time to care what something looks like. We stepped up some steps when I saw a sign that made me jump.

"Oh my fucking god! Dannie! Look," I pointed to a sign near the door," Mirabelle, remember? We were gonna go on a field trip here in a month!" I had no idea it was along a lake. It would've been awesome if only the dead didn't rise.

"Wow, this is coincidental." Dannie said as she opened the door, pistol raised.

"Tu voudrais l'eau avec ses nourritures, madame?" I said with a smug tone. The one I use whenever I speak French with people who cant speak it. Dannie could but that was besides the point. The place was definitely old. The ceiling was low and it was warmly lit. To the left was a hallway and to my right was a sitting room. In front of us was a small staircase. I moved to the hallway and peered down it. It dropped down a small set of stairs and into another hallway. And a set of kitchen double doors was about 3/4's down the way. I came back to the main room to see Dannie returning from upstairs. She couldn't find anything.

I told them about the hallway and we decided to just go down it. I glanced into the kitchen as we passed and didn't see anything, just darkness. We moved into the next hallway and saw a door at the end. Through that door was a large room with tables and chairs stacked in the corners. Nothing of value. When we returned to the hallway we saw the door swing out, then in, then out again. Someone must've gone through.

Immediately I crouched and started to walk to the doors. Inside we heard groans. Not undead groans though. But the groans of an injured human. Slowly we opened the doors. Then the groans stopped. After what felt like an eternity a voice rang out. "Hello? Is anyone there?" It belonged to a woman, probably around her 40's or 50's. We moved in and Dannie turned on her flashlight. We saw a woman wearing an expensive sweater and tan slacks with heel-less high heels adorned with rhinestones. She had on a lot of jewelry, too. Not the expensive jewels but wooden necklaces and small stones on her wrists. But most importantly she had a bloody gash on her forearm and calf. Definitely bite marks.

"Can you help? Those things bit me!" She said with more attitude than I would've liked. I moved over to her and Dannie and Mark began to secure and barricade the room. Her name was Stacey and she was there with her husband when the shit hit the fan. Romantic second honeymoon gone horribly wrong. She goes on to say how she returned to their cottage by the lake to find her husband eating one of the staff. He got up and bit her arm. She fell and he bit her leg. It was a miracle she was still alive.

"Okay Stacey. There's nothing we can do about this I'm afraid. You've been bit and being bit means you're going to turn into one of them. I...I'm sorry this happened." I tried to bring sympathy into my voice but it didn't help much. Stacey began to cry, quietly at first but it got progressively louder.

"Shh! Stacey more will come if you don't keep quiet!" This seemed to work as she quieted down. I really feel bad for her. Surviving a week in a kitchen, totally unbarricaded, only to be told by a kid that you're going to die. It's totally beyond me how she survived this long without turning.

"Well," I got up and moved to a collection of rags in a corner, "We need to sleep. We stopped here for that in the first place." Everyone lied down and soon everyone was asleep. Except for me. I kept thinking about Eric and Shirley's corpses in front of that gun store, rotting in the sun, being picked at by zombies and scavengers. Maybe someday I'll be back to bury them. Maybe someday. I drifted off to sleep with the thought of things returning to normal and my life coming together.

I awoke with Stacey moaning loudly. It was still dark out. "Stacey shudda fug up is late!" The moaning stopped. Then I heard a dragging sound and the current situation dawned on me. Stacey turned on us in our sleep. "Holy shit guys wake up Stacey's turned into a zombie!" At this all of us were awake and Dannie was searching for her flashlight. Suddenly I felt cold hands wrap around my arms and a body push me to the ground.

"Over here, FUCK!" I could smell Stacey's breath on me. It was coppery and rotten. Probably because she hadn't brushed her teeth for a while and must've vomited blood recently. I could even hear her teeth clap together every time she tried to get a chunk of my neck. Suddenly a light came and I could see her face. It was like it was before just more blue and her eyes had turned gray. Then a loud crack emanated in the medium sized kitchen as Marks bat connected with her head. She twitched a bit more and Mark smashed her head in a great display of primitive rage.

"Goddammit that was close," I said. I felt my face to make sure she didn't get a scratch on me. You could never be too careful.

"Well, back to sleep!" Mark said cheerfully.

"Oh shut up asshole." I said back. It was funny as hell but there was no fiber in my body that wanted to laugh now. Not after today. Especially after the last week and a half. Shit's crazy, son, I told myself as I drifted into sleep.

A/N: So that's chapter 7. Longest one I've done I think. Isn't that awesome! Read, review, and subscribe! I know people are reading so review or something! It could help me in the motivation department.