Slowly, he levers the door with a crowbar, his arms straining under the weight. Crouching down, I glance around the dark space and nod when nothing appears. With a grunt, he continues until the door is open enough that we can prop a cart in the door and wait for anything to come to us.
Thankfully, nothing does, which means the store is either empty or something more exciting lurks inside to which the zombies are attracted.
I suppose they may not have heard us, but in the quiet morning with no other background noise, the door was pretty loud. Peeking my head inside, I can’t see jack because it’s dark as a tomb in there. The smell makes my stomach turn and my mouth water. I assume it’s more of the Turned and I resign myself to more fucking death.
Curiously numb, I hitch my backpack further up my back and pull out the flashlight. I find I don’t have it in me to care, and that’s a liability or a gift because I have nothing left to lose.
Enzo’s brow furrows, which I ignore before he steps in behind me and I shine the light around the entrance. The store starts in the photo section followed by electronics, and so far, all is quiet.
I can only see what’s on the other end of the beam of light as I slowly sweep back and forth, causing the blood to pump loudly in my veins in warning.
So far, so good. Nothing appears out of nowhere and attempts to eat us, so I relax my shoulders and creep forward. There really is no good way to sweep the store, so we decide to take the aisle nearest the wall and hope for the best.
Heading beyond the electronics section, I swing the light around as we pass through to the first aisle, which, along with the next few, should contain household items, such as blenders, dishes, and so on. None of it is of value for us, but it’s still a dark, scary place where things can be lurking.
We make it past those aisles without incident, although I can hear Enzo breathing heavily behind me. To be fair, I’m not exactly breathing quietly myself.
The following few corridors are equally empty, and we emerge at the back of the store where the alcohol is stocked along the last row beside the bakery behind, which would typically display the breads, cakes, and desserts.
My mouth waters at the thought of a pastry, any fucking pastry, but they’re long expired now, moldy and misshapen although not picked over, which is a good sign.
Past the bakery, we’re now at the back of the store, and this leaves the middle section and third section abutting the wall on the other side. The middle section will have clothes, more household items, and seasonal stuff, and we need to pass the now-defunct freezer and meat section to search the opposite wall where boxed and canned items may still reside.
All I can hear is our breathing and footsteps as we continue past the bakery section, the fetid smell of rotting meats, cheeses, and fruit growing stronger as we get closer. I gag a little in my mouth, flashing the light inside a refrigerator full of meat, moaning when I spy bugs crawling and buzzing around the disgusting remains.
Because of the smell, we don’t detect the zombie until it’s right on top of us, sliding out of a side aisle just like any other annoying shopper would. A cart sails past and I gasp as the bloated white face appears in my peripheral vision and tackles me to the ground.
I land with a grunt and immediately struggle when his strong hands grasp at my waist, and he brings his jaws down to my stomach.
“Uhh,” I moan, around a throat thick with terror, pushing his mouth away from my midsection.
My hands are slippery on his forehead, and I can’t get a good fucking grip.
He’s dressed in a white coat, covered in brown goo. I presume it’s blood, although I don’t think the stains are from his day job behind the meat counter.
Pain slides through my abdomen when the dick grabs at my coat with greedy hands, but thankfully he’s pulled from my body before he can gain purchase.
Enzo shoves him away and steps into my vision, crouching down beside me to pant, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I croak before rolling over onto my hands and knees. I hear a slap slap slap sound before another zombie comes rolling around the shelving, this one missing his shoes. But I don’t have time to wonder why he’s barefoot before he’s barreling into Enzo standing before me.
At the sight, I pull my weary body to my feet and raise my knife, but I can only see shadows boxing in the minimal shine from the flashlight, still lying on the floor. A series of grunts ring out as I assume Enzo slaps and pushes at the body.
From behind, the man appears to be slightly overweight, wearing khakis and a red polo shirt, inspiring images of a guy from an insurance commercial to dance through my head.
Fuck, but I miss mindless television.
“A little help here,” Enzo grunts.
“I can’t,” I gasp, still panting from my own altercation, “see anything.”
He grunts once more before shoving the body to the ground and bringing the bat down onto his skull with a vicious snarl. I can hear the faint pop and flop as the crown breaks away and the fluid within oozes out in a rush. Turning away because zombie innards over time solidify into a black viscous liquid that smells horrible, I will back the bile burning my throat and grab the flashlight.
Sweeping it around the area, it appears clear, but this means nothing in relation to what could be lurking on the other side of the beam of light.
We take a moment to calm down before moving forward, much more slowly this time. I’m not keen on checking the rest of the store, but I need to get out of the meat department before the smell has me blowing chunks.
We head down the back aisles, starting where the water and paper towels are stored. I can’t see for shit and shining the flashlight could invite them in, but I don’t want to risk missing any more zombies that might be hiding in the huge space.