For those who care and have been keeping up with my storyline a few months ago the real life-wedge had an accident and was hit by a car and is no longer with us. His memory will live on in my little story however. He was a good kitty and he will be missed.
We had spent about 15 minutes dragging the stinking corpses out of the building and piling them in the alleyway nearby. The stench was only amplified in the imfamous west texas afternoon heat. I couldnt help but wonder how long they had been dead. If they were old bodies from a grave or something I could understand their decomposition, but the clothes on them seemed casual and not all that old. I wonder if whatever it was making them into zombies also made them rot faster... I shuddered at the thought of existing in that half-alive state. By the time we were done moving the heftier of the zombies I was grateful that there was still power and that this place had central air conditioning. Afterwards we drew all the blinds and locked the steel-barred doors. It would take something tougher than one of those zombies to break in here. Unfortunately after what we had seen so far the possibility of something like that coming along wasn't far from our minds.
There a working mini fridge in the back with sandwich making inside and a few cold sodas. The last thing we really needed at this point was more caffeine and sugar but they were good and cold and it's simple pleasure like a cold Dr. Pepper that were helping us through this insanity so we divied them up. I released a grateful pair of cats from my backpack, who eagerly gorged themselves on sandwich meat. After a few minutes they were lounging about the racks of pawned merchandise licking their paws contentedly. Another welcome surprise was the employee bathroom, which was still working.
After catching our breaths and eating abit the three of us set about looking through the place. Contrary to popular belief, and much to our dismay, not all pawn shops in texas are loaded down with assault weapons. We did, however come up with a few 9mm handguns and an additional shotgun. Ammunition was also on tap and our pockets and packs were now stuffed with food and ammo. Braddly finally set aside my trusty walking staff in favor of the 12 gauge, pump-action beauty that we dug up from under the front counter. Jeff claimed the remaining handguns, since he was the better shot with them.
I took the opportunity to peek through the blinds and have a look outside while everyone else was reloading and getting settled in for the night. The sun was just beginning to approach the horizon. Texas sunsets are legendary and Lubbock is no exception. Lacking most of the skyscraper-type buildings of your larger cities you can get a good view of the sunset from pretty much anywhere. The scattered clouds and dust pick up shades of red and orange and create almost unrealistic bands of color in the sky. My reverie was broken when I spotted a helicopter moving across my fiew of view. It was some distance away. I couldnt even hear the blades.
"There's still some military helicopter out there flying around," I said over my shoulder.
"Well long as it's out there and we're in here I'm ok with that," Brad replied.
"That pretty much applies to everything at this point," I murmured back.
As the sun touched the horizon and began to sink the day slowly dimmed. Almost as if on cue I saw things begin to rustle and shuffle in the distance. The dead would walk the streets of Lubbock Texas again tonight. I closed the blinds and moved to turn off the lights.
"Hey..." Jeff protested.
"If those things know were in here even the bars may not save us. So no lights, and nothing above a whisper." I explained.
Jeff raised an eyebrow at me appraisingly, then nodded his consent.
I made my way into an office chair after flipping the lights off. I made sure the safety was on my shotgun and rested it against my shoulder. As the sun sank below the horizon leaving only dim twilight outside I could picture in my head the horde of dead bodies shuffling around outside. Could they sense us? Or smell us? Would the slain zombies outside give us away. A million thoughts of things that we might have done wrong or that would come smashing through the door at any moment plagued my mind.
"So what about tomorrow?" Brad's whisperedvoice was a welcome distraction.
"I dunno. Guess we keep heading east out of town." At least it was a plan...
Jeff spoke up, "The roads outside town may be more clear. We may be able to get another car and get some distance between us and 'them'."
I felt wedge hop up onto my lap and curl up. Odd how a simple gesture like that from a cat can be so comforting. Everyone was nestling in somewhere comfortable, though I'll admit I was a bit selfish in claiming the office chair. My aching body, however, didnt feel much guilt and gratefully sank into the cushy padded chair and before long I found my eyes drooping...
I am standing in the middle of the street. I can't tell which street, everything seems so foggy. My eyes strain to focus on the street signs but I just can't manage it. From every direction they are coming, the shambling dead. Their strangled groans echo in my head like some demented symphony. The tone and pitch of the moaning zombies rises and falls with an almost steady rhythm. My hands are empty, no weapon in sight. The nearest of them is only 30 feet away and I have nowhere to run to. I spin on my heels, looking for an opening, and find nothing but and ever-thickening wall of pallid flesh and rotting cloth.
I fall to my knees, sobbing. How did I end up here? I'm smarter than this. How could I let myself get separated and surrounded? I close my eyes, tears falling onto my hands. My teeth grind in anticipation of the first fateful bite. I wait... nothing. I open my eyes and see them all standing around me, clustered in a circle about ten feet away from me. The closest zombies slump to their knees, followed by the row behind them, and then those behind them, and so on and so forth until a horde of zombies kneel before me. Their groans are almost silent now. Over the low drone I can hear whispered, tortured voices.
A howl pierces the silence from far away. A horrible sound, like hundreds of zombied moaning as loud as they can. The horde before me turn their heads in the direction of the sound and lurch to their feet. From down the street more are coming, but there is something behind them that I can sense but not see. A presence dark and powerful. The zombies in front of me lurch foward with determination...
My eyes jerked open in response to the crashing sound outside. The howling from my dreams had followed me into reality. Jeff and Braddley were already at the windows, peering carefully throught he blinds.
"What the fuck?" Jeff asked no one inparticular, "They're just standing there, howling..."
I moved to a window and looked outside, my mind still foggy from the dream. The street was littered with zombies, all standing in place and howling at the sky as best as their rotted vocal cords could manage.
"Well ain't this fuckin' wonderful." Brad muttered.
I tried to reply, but there was a growing pounding in my head, almost like my skull was resonating with the zombie's chorus. The pain was quickly growing unbearable. I could hear the whispered, tortured voices again in my head.
"Meat... feed... " they said.
I could barely hear the shelf behind me buckle under my weight as I fell to the ground, clutching my head. I'm still not sure where the screaming was coming from... me... or something else.