Free Vaccination by Phillip Tomasso Page A

I-390 bridge. I backed us up to the stonewall. Slowly we crept forward, bent forward, staying low to the ground. It was difficult to see clearly. Ahead, I saw four, no five zombies. They looked lost, meandering about on a house’s front lawn. A sixth was on the front porch.
    We got closer, on the opposite side of the street, and stopped between a hedge and a parked mini-van.
    “Is he knocking on the door?”
    “Scratching at it, I think,” I said. The guy on the porch mindlessly raked fingernails on the screen mesh. I could hear it.
    I also heard a siren. It wailed, not far off. The sound brought hope. Not all was lost. Felt like it. If responders were still responding, it wasn’t the end.
    “What do we do?”
    I didn’t want to stay here, hidden on our bellies in someone’s driveway. That didn’t really mean we were safe. Just meant we hadn’t been spotted by the small horde gathered across the way. “We can’t move. Not yet. What if they see us?”
    “We can’t just stay here.” Allison raised her head, looking left and right. “We should get closer to this house behind us. Stay low, and close, and keep moving.”
    “What if they hear us?”
    “We run.” She had a point. One that beat the hell out of mine.
    Maybe I was tired too. Walking four miles had been a challenge, despite being focused, despite needing to get to my kids. Like Allison had said, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d walked this far.
    It was nearly midnight. I now had three things on my mind. Getting to the mall for weapons. Saving my kids from being eaten. Finding a cold beer.

 
     
     
    Chapter Thirteen
     
     
    Allison and I came up on the backside of the mall. From where we crouched in the bushes, we could see the loading dock side of Target. Beyond that, Sears and Penny’s. The sporting goods store sandwiched between them. The mall had front entrances to all the stores. The back also had direct store entrances, as well.
    The lot had parked cars, which was good. We’d need them. They provided cover. The roaming mass of zombies looked a bit overwhelming.
    “There’s a lot of them.” Allison knelt beside me, one hand on my shoulder. “Look at ‘em all.”
    “I can’t shake how it’s just like every stupid zombie movie I’d ever seen. They’re just, just roaming around. Like they are hungry for brains.”
    “Don’t say that,” she said.
    I didn’t need to say it. We’d seen it. Watched as people we worked with, attacked other employees. We’d barely escaped work. A hard fought walk to the mall. These things, although maybe not craving brains, did seem interested in biting non-infected people to death. Bad enough in my book.
    “We need to get to the mall. Can’t imagine the doors are locked,” I said. I looked around the lit lot. There was no visible clear path. If we did a serpentine between vehicles, we stood a chance.
    “Bound to be more inside the mall, too.” Allison merely pointed out the obvious.
    “We get in, and weapons are all to the left.”
    “Just got to get across the parking lot.”
    “It’s what I’m thinking.”
    I watched what could be a group of four meander toward a Lexus. Couldn’t be more than a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty yards to the left. They didn’t appear distracted, however, they all seemed to lumber forward in the same general direction. That direction was away from us.
    On the right, zombies weren’t as congested, but scattered. It was the same kind of slow and sluggish . . . gait. I counted ten, no . . . eleven. Twelve. Yes. I saw twelve.
    “Look at him.” I followed Allison’s finger. Straight ahead. Just past a light pole. A guy ran toward us. He was a ways out, but running in our general direction. “Sick?”
    “Looks it,” I said. The guy’s arms flailed, pin wheeled. He looked like someone trapped in the midst of a swarm of bees. “What is going--”  
He wasn’t sick. Not a zombie. This became obvious as he screamed for help. Although my