Free The Long Way To Reno by Michelle Mix Page B

enough for one
skinny chick to crawl out. Then another. The chain loosened. There were three
of them left, and one of them was trying to wedge herself between that narrow
space we’d made available. The guys grew closer, and the two that had freed
themselves had just discovered what had happened to the Exit door. The one that
was stuck was crying and straining to get her hips unstuck.
     
    Panicked,
I dropped my hold on my Fubar, slammed down atop of the killed zombie, and
found the handgun I’d seen. I remembered the safety button – I flicked
it, and lifted it, familiar with the weight and feel of such a weapon in my
hands. I aimed at the men that were coming to complete stops, looking stunned
to see me armed. The women were screaming again. Metal creaked and protested,
and from the corner of my eye, that girl managed to emerge from where she was
caught.
     
    I
heard the heavy sound of a metal bar hitting the concrete floor, and looked
over to see that the other two had managed to get the door open. They
disappeared into the night, and movement at the corner of my eye told me the
men were sprinting forward again. The remaining women behind the previously
unlocked door managed to get out, and the men shouted angrily. They weren’t
going to stop. I guess from the shaking and awkward positioning of my hands,
they knew I would miss shooting them. They were chancing that to get to me.
     
    So
I depressed the trigger, still unprepared for the recoil. It bounced in my
hands, and in my haste to rebalance it, grip it properly, I didn’t see one of
the chicks crawling up from the floor, totally focused on the open door. When I
fired again, I shot her point blank in the temple as she rose to run for
freedom.
     
    I
was stunned. Stunned . I dropped the gun, losing focus of the world as I
looked down at the chick I’d accidently killed. She dropped down into the
concrete floor with a stiff motion. I heard my own short breath, my own
thudding heartbeat – my hands were curled, as if they still held the gun.
She lay in an awkward position, bleeding horrendously onto the floor. Her
mascara’d eyes were wide open, but her mouth was set to one side. Bonelessly.
She had been a pretty blond with a loud voice, and now she was dead by my own
hands. This situation was different from those I’d left behind – this was
by my own hand .
     
    I
felt force against my cheek like some blinding power, and I went flying. I hit
the concrete completely unprepared to catch myself, vision momentarily graying.
Someone hit me. Hit me hard enough to send me onto the floor, and, for a
moment, I wondered if I’d been somehow shot as well. Tears built and spilled,
and I couldn’t catch my breath. I hadn’t ever been hit like that before. I
looked up as the two guys looked over the zombie – one of them had the
gun – and the other kicked the woman onto her back. Her arms were stiff
as they resettled over her own chest and stomach, and they were bewildered as
to how this had happened.
     
    Dazedly,
I looked around. The Exit door was open, and the other ladies had left without
a second look back. Bitches .
     
    I
looked up when one of the men marched over and kicked me hard in the stomach. I
couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t make a sound as my body did its own thing; curling
in on itself, turning away from the infliction. My face throbbed and my stomach
felt as if it had met my spine. It felt broken. They were saying stuff, but I
didn’t even know what – my head was in such a jumble. For some desperate
and unknown reason, I tried to crawl away. As if they’d let me go. Fingers entangled
into my hair and yanked me back so hard that my neck felt broken. I didn’t even
want to stretch out because my stomach felt so weird, but my body did it anyway
as they yanked me to my feet. I couldn’t catch my balance, and they were
yelling and screaming at me, as if I would get what they were saying.
     
    I
get that they were pissed about the ladies being let go,