Chapter 8

Jay Box

1:23 PM

Where are those guys? I wondered. I needed help, and fast. These zombies were closing in on me. With my ammo running low, and my energy running low as well, I would be screwed if Mercer and Jill didn't get here fast enough.

But suddenly a gunshot rang out, and one of the zombies in front of me slumped forwards, revealing Mercer and the smoking barrel of his Colt Python. He grinned.

"Are we too late, buddy?"

I sighed. Thank God.

"Just in time." I answered.

Jill appeared on the other side of the alley, holding the gun I had given her.

"Are you alright, Jay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. You?"

"Likewise."

But it was no time for niceties. A new swarm of zombies entered the alleyway, filling it once again with their horrific screams and wails. Jill ran towards us and joined Mercer and I as we began to shoot. The first line of zombies was fallen instantly as my M4 sprayed them from side to side. We wasted no time in shooting, as we all knew they couldn't get too close. I mean, that's mostly a given, but when you've got an undead army of zombies coming right at you, you've really gotta hold your ground. Take them out before they get too close, because God only knows what they can do to you if they get their hands on you. Kill you, infect you, it's all the same. And if you don't have a gun, you better run like hell. Run, and keep running until you can run no more. And even then, force yourself to keep running. Just hope that they're merciful. That they kill you in the least painful way they can.

I was interrupted from my thoughts when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped a mile as I felt the hand on me. Swinging my gun around, I was relieved to see the startled face of Mercer.

"Geez, man." he muttered. "Don't shit yourself, damn."

I laughed. It was mostly a hollow laugh, devoid of emotion, but hey, it was still a laugh.

"Sorry. What is it?"

To my sheer delight, he produced a small item from behind his back. Well actually, it wasn't that small, but it was smaller than my gun, so I considered it small.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"If you're thinking it's a standard-issue MXL30 grenade launcher, then yes, this is what you think it is."

I took the grenade launcher from my hand and attached it to the front of my gun.

"Where did you get this, man?" I asked ecstatically, clearly unable to hide my feelings.

"I swiped it from one of the army men earlier."

"Well, this will definitely affect the score." I said, marveling at my new toy.

"Should I stand back?" he asked, knowing what was about to follow.

"Please." I answered.

"Jill!" Mercer called. "Get over here!"

At the sound of his voice, Jill turned and ran to us.

"What is it?"

"Get the hell back. Jay has a grenade launcher."

"Really?"

She leaned over my shoulder, trying to get a good view at the armament on my gun. I shuddered as I felt her breathing down my neck.

"Wow. No offense, but please, please do not screw this up."

Ignoring her, I pivoted the rifle and aimed it at the incoming monsters.

"Wait!" cried Mercer, as I was about to pull the trigger.

"What's wrong?"

"I just noticed something. Do we really want a grenade going off in an alleyway? And a skinny, crowded alleyway at that. I'll bet that this thing is just about ready to crumble. Bite the dust, literally. You shoot off that grenade and we'll be squished like pancakes when the walls come down."

"Good point." I said, mentally kicking myself for not having thought of that earlier.

The three of us backed out of the alley. Luckily, the zombies weren't on that side anymore, so we were safe for the time being.

"And here we go again." I said out loud, to no one in particular. The zombies were slowly, but steadily advancing. It was either now or never. As my finger hovered over the trigger, I thought about repeating a certain quote from the finale of Scarface, but I ultimately decided not to.

The grenade went off with, of course, a deafening explosion. The zombies in the alley were vaporized instantly. Those who were lucky enough to avoid the blast were destroyed when the alleyway collapsed on itself.

"Alright." said Mercer. "Let's get going."

With that, he and Jill turned on their heels and began walking towards Hashbury. Well, fine then. Don't even thank me. I sighed and followed them towards the city.

1:31 PM

"We there yet?" I asked.

Jill nodded.

"Yeah. It's right up there," she indicated. "See it?"

"I see it."

A short ways up the street stood the lone Ammu-Nation. You could tell by just glancing at it that the zombies had already been there. The trees and cars nearby were totally demolished. The building down the road had been completely reduced to rubble. As I viewed the building from afar, I wondered what could have done that. The zombies were only armed with their claws. Sure, they were sharp as all hell, but they couldn't bring down a three-story building. Something really big had to have done that. The Ammu-Nation didn't look too good either. The windows were shattered and the walls had dents in them. Unfortunately, this was the least of the destruction.

The three of us strode up to the front of the shop. I stepped forwards and pushed against the door. It didn't budge. I tried again, harder this time. Still nothing. I turned to face the other two.

"It's locked."

"Yeah, thanks a lot Captain Obvious." Jill muttered, clearly annoyed.

I shook my head and pulled my gun from my back. Then, stepping backwards, I fired a few rounds into the plate-glass window that had been built into the door. The glass shattered as it was struck.

"Happy now?" I said, as, one-by-one, we carefully stepped through the newly-created hole.

"Whoa." uttered Jill, taking in the surroundings.

The interior of the gun shop was in total disarray. No, wait, that's an understatement. The broken front door is in disarray. This store, well, it looked like the goddamn Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse had come by.

Death: That was totally obvious. Two store clerks lay in one of the back rooms, their bodies bloodied and mangled and their faces contorted into a hellish, torturous appearance. And this whole store just implied "death." It was like, leaping off the dang walls at'cha.

War: Just as noticeable. Guns, glass, wood, and everything else that makes up your typical gun store was strewn all around the shop, or at least, what was left of it. My basement looked better than this. And that was saying a lot.

Famine: Actually, I guess there wasn't any famine going on. But I bet these guys probably wanted a last cheeseburger or something before they were mercilessly slashed to death.

Pestilence: Wait, I don't even know what that means. I bet there's some of it going on in this place though.

Anyways, back to reality.

"Shit, man." Mercer said, in awe. "Look at this place."

Jill stepped forwards, sidestepping the debris that coated the floor. Picking up a pistol from the ground, she held it up to her face and looked it over. She brushed her long, auburn hair out of her face as she tried to get a good look at the handgun. From where I stood, I could see that it was totally destroyed. There were cracks of various sizes all over it, and the bullets that it had once contained were spread all over the ground. She shook her head in disbelief and tossed the gun away.

"Well," I addressed them. "We came here for guns, so we might as well get them, huh?"

Mercer chuckled.

"Good idea. This place gives me the creeps anyways. Let's hurry up."

Jill surveyed the store.

"Wow. Are you sure there are any guns left?"

I shrugged. I didn't know whether to take her question seriously or not. Then I turned my attention to a gun that lay on the ground. I picked it up. Blowing off the dust and dirt, I studied the gun, just as Jill had done earlier.

"Did you find something?" Jill asked, turning her attention to me.

"Sure did. MAC-10, I think."

"Hang on to it." she ordered.

Uh, no shit. Like I'm just gonna toss it out the window.

"Dammit!" she cried angrily, after a few more minutes of pointless searching. "I can't find anything!"

"Neither can I, actually." said Mercer, in a matter-of-fact tone. "I can--" His voice trailed off, as he craned his head in the opposite direction.

"Oh my God." he muttered, as he began heading for one of the back rooms.

"What? What is it?" I asked frantically, as Jill and I went after him.

Holy freakin' shit. I almost pissed myself with glee when we got into the room. Guns lay everywhere. First of all, they looked virtually untouched. And second, they weren't just petty handguns. These were heavy-duty weapons. Assault rifles, double-barreled shotguns, grenades, everything. I hate to say this, but I felt like a kid in a candy store.

"We've gone to heaven..." Mercer murmured, checking out the various firearms that filled the shelves.

"Um, do those look like angels to you?" Jill asked, as she gaped out the window.

Mercer and I looked over her shoulder. Oh shit. There they were, coming up the road. The zombies had found us again. Twenty or thirty zombies, just as before. I began to wonder where these bastards were even coming from.

"Everyone, take a gun!" Mercer commanded, snatching up an AK-47.

"Guard the door, don't go outside, and try not to let any of them in. Hell, don't even let them get close."

He hopped the counter and stuck himself in front of the door. Then he fired.

I glanced at Jill.

"Best of luck." I said, taking another MAC from the shelf.

She gulped.

"Yeah, you too."

She left first, taking a post at the smashed-out window next to the front door. I watched the both of them fire bravely towards the incoming zombies. Their bullets split the air, cutting down the rows of zombies. I averted my gaze and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Then I sighed and gripped both MAC-10s in my hands. Man, they never trained me for this in the academy. Oh well, you know what they say. No guts, no glory.