Free Dying Days 6 by Armand Rosamilia Page A

would die, or they'd have the resources to kill the zombies.
    By the time Bernie got around the Dunkin Donuts and through high weeds in the field behind the building, most of the zombies had seemed to forget about her.
    She had to move slowly and stop every few feet to make sure a zombie wasn't wandering in the field, which had weeds higher than her head in spots.
    Maybe she could circle back to the office and gather the group's gear. It was a morbid thought but, if she didn't do it, someone else would. She was heading back to it, anyway. A quick detour and she'd be there and then on her way. She'd only managed to run a quarter of a mile before she'd gotten into the trunk of the car.
    Zombies were heavy as she walked across the parking lot and onto Route 1 but they were far enough apart to not be a problem. Bernie hurried across the road so she didn't attract any more than she needed and kept jogging until she rounded the corner of the building.
    She stopped to catch her breath before peeking around.
    Two members of her group were ripped apart outside, body parts littering the sidewalk in front of the office space.
    It was three doors down but there was nothing to hide behind. What if the zombie was still inside? It hadn't been that long since the massacre.
    Bernie moved to the other side of the road to get a better angle. If he was still around, hopefully she'd see him before he was alerted to her presence.
    The parking lot also gave nothing to hide behind, which was frustrating.
    Bernie tried to make as little sound as possible as she walked, careful not to kick or step on anything. The weeds were slowly taking over the parking lot, the grass growing a few feet into the asphalt and between multitudes of cracks.
    She positioned herself so she could look inside the office. The front door was wide open and the glass had finally been shattered. She could see the blood covering the rest of the windows, handprints streaking and someone pressed against it on the other side.
    Bernie couldn't move.
    It was too dark inside for her liking. The zombie could be only a few feet in and she wouldn't be able to see him until she crossed the parking lot. The glare of the sun overhead wasn't helping, either.
    A strong laugh resonated from inside the building.
    The zombie who'd snuck into their midst and killed everyone stepped outside and laughed again.
    "I'll make this easy on you, pretty lady. Yes, I'm still here. No, everyone else is dead. Yes, you're next," the zombie said and began strolling towards Bernie.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Twelve
     
     
    Darlene didn't know if it was motherly instinct, the Lich Lord blood in her body or something else, but she knew she was on the right track and getting closer to her son.
    She didn't know how many months ago she'd followed this same path heading south, but it looked like it hadn't been serviceable in a hundred years. The trees on either side of I-95 had begun their slow crawl to join in the middle, with small trees sprouting between the cracks in the asphalt and the medians choked with weeds so high Darlene could barely see on the other side.
    Even if she had a vehicle, there was no way to drive further than a few feet, with so many potholes and abandoned cars in the road.
    There was a body in front of her, an older man with a torso ripped apart and scattered across three lanes. His one attached hand still held a pistol. Darlene pried it from finger bones covered with a thin layer of cracking flesh but it was empty. She put it in her back pocket. You never knew when you'd find ammo, and she could always use it to barter or fake her way out of a fight.
    She remembered once hearing a statistic about there being more guns than people in the United States, like one hundred fifteen guns per one hundred people. Something crazy like that. Obviously, not everyone was walking around with a gun or two and