The Long Way To Reno (3 page)

Half
crying, half-panting, I somehow made it to the third row, three stories up. My
heart was pounding so hard that I couldn’t hear, and my arms were shaking from
the intense physical action I’d taken these past few minutes. My legs started
cramping as I crouched within the small space provided to me – enough to
hold a wooden pallet and what looked to be stacks of coconut water. Cautiously,
I eased my head out and saw that no one had followed me.

Behind
me, the girl was busy dying – the snarling creatures, rabid people in
Walmart uniforms, McDonald’s shirts, and causal clothing, were wandering away
in search of new prey. None of them had noticed my desperate climb to freedom.
I saw the open Exit door, whimpered. So close, yet so
far
. My calves
cramped, and I had to sit uncomfortably, my ass digging into the metal grating that
held me and the pallet. I barely had room to look up – but then I was
hugging the wrapped stacks of coconut water, hoping I wouldn’t be seen. I
struggled to catch my breath, but I was so pumped with fear and adrenaline that
it felt impossible to breathe normally.

I
heard guttural shrieks of a man being torn to shreds – wondered if it
were the older one, or the one I’d left behind. Feeling overwhelmed, I pressed
my back against the stacks of coconut water and lowered myself to a half-lying
position. My knees up, feet flat against the other bin’s contents. I don’t know
what it was. But I was in a position of hiding, I could see both sides of me,
and I could hear
everything
.

I
didn’t know what else to do. So I laid there, struggling to breathe, and listened
to people being slaughtered.

Chapter Two

My
ears were ringing. I was so shaky, that when I lifted my hands to examine my
fingernails, they wouldn’t stay still. I couldn’t focus on them. The fire alarm
shrieked continuously. When I breathed in, I tasted dust, plastic and cold air.
If it were this cold inside, it was very cold outside.

I
don’t know how much time had passed since it started, but I was so tired. My
eyelids heavy, my body exhausted. Since I couldn’t steady my fingers, I rested
them over my stomach, over the material of my neon orange safety vest. I stared
up at the bin above me, noting the broken parts of the pallet – I didn’t
know what it contained.

I
didn’t hear any more screams. I didn’t hear any more running. Just that fire
alarm. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I thought back on all that had
happened and was still in disbelief over the net thing. I
survived
that,
man. How’d I do that? Me, a dorky gamer, swinging like Tarzan between sections.
I never
ever
imagined I’d be doing something like that. I wondered how I
looked. Hopefully not too stupid.

I
hoped Mom and Dad were okay. I wanted to hear their voices. As impatient as
they were with me, I knew they loved me. Their only child, over a quarter of a
century old – plus a few years. A slacking loser that had trouble holding
down jobs because she liked playing video games, and was considered…well…lazy.
I wanted to cry at that. I wanted to break down and sob because as I considered
my life, I could see how useless I was. What did I contribute to society? Other
than to Gamestop and Sephora, of course? Nothing. I didn’t finish college, I
failed at being a useful daughter, and my numbers were pretty low here, so I
don’t know how long I was going to last here, anyway.

I
was one of those losers living with her parents, with no boyfriend, with no
real life, and I wanted to continue living that way?

I
sniffled. Used one dirty forearm to wipe my eyes, forgetting my eyeliner and
mascara. When I remembered, it was because I’d left smears of black on my skin.
Upon reaction, I carefully wiped around my eyes, hoping I was able to tidy what
I couldn’t see. I thought about my selfish reactions – having to cringe
at leaving people behind. Hell, it happened, it is what it is. I couldn’t do a
thing to help them.

…I
couldn’t.

I
rolled, leaned slightly to cautiously peer down at the floor below. Nothing but
blood stains. The bodies of the fat man and the girl was gone. No doubt
wandering around with the uniformed workers and such.

Glumly,
I clutched the metal edge of the bin, and then twisted to look over the other
side of the bin. Nothing. But the door was shut. I was bewildered. When did
that happen? I tried to think back as to when I heard it shut, but couldn’t
even remember anything after lying down. Maybe I, uh, fainted or
something.  Scanning the floor below, I saw more bloodstains amid the
flashing lights, and I heard nothing human. I wondered if I was the only one
that had survived. I couldn’t’ve been. There were hundreds of workers here
tonight – they must be holed up, somewhere. I couldn’t imagine where.
Maybe I had to go find them, because I wasn’t sure what to do on my own.

Some
movement to my far right caused me to twist in that direction, feeling a jump
of hot panic spread through me. But it was just another worker – he’d
climbed the bins as I had and was already climbing his way down. I don’t know
if he’d noticed me, so I just watched in silence as he made the easy trek down
to the floor. Once he was there, he listened for anything that was out of place
– then began running away from the walkway that led to the door. He
disappeared out of sight and I gave a bewildered expression, wondering why he
didn’t take the easy exit.

Feeling
a little braver than I was earlier, I sat up and scanned that area more
thoroughly, then repeated the action on the other side. I saw nothing moving. I
looked back at the Exit, and realized that I could make it. A short sprint and
bang
!
I was outside. But I hesitated because I still remember vividly that guy
earlier – rushing outside and then looking up. Those lights. I remember
the lights flashing everywhere, then focusing on him. It couldn’t have been the
emergency lights. They aren’t motion controlled.

I
think.

It
just seemed odd. Why look
up
?

Was
it snowing?

How
stupid. I rolled my eyes at myself, and managed to make it into a sitting
position. More cautious than ever, I swung my legs out over the edge of the bin
and tried not to look down. I was really high up. And that floor wasn’t soft.
Even after a month and a half of working here, my feet still ached after my
shift. Just imagine how it’d feel like hitting it from this height. I was
shaking, still, and I knew it was just the sudden loss of adrenaline. I read
that in a comic once – one of the characters made the other drink orange
juice to replenish certain nutrients lost.

I
turned and lowered myself to the supports I’d used to crawl up. It was harder
to do now that things were slightly calmer than they were earlier. My arms shook
and it hurt my fingers to hold my weight up while my feet – curse my
short legs! – struggled to find something to support myself with. But I
made it down, sweaty and nearly out of breath; from panic, from caution, from
sheer physical effort. I wished I was in shape. Maybe things would’ve been
easier.

I
paused and listened – eyes searching the empty row for signs of life. I
didn’t see anything, or hear anyone. The coast was clear. I slowly edged around
the row and looked toward the Exit door. My heart rate increased, and I started
moving towards it, eager to make it. Eager to get outside and – and what?

I
remembered my baggie and reached around me. It was gone. I’d dropped my car
keys somewhere in the warehouse. I froze. I needed a vehicle to get back to
Reno. Back to mom and dad. Or I could call them. They’ll come get me. But if
there was a zombie apocalypse, then maybe it just wasn’t that convenient for
them to do so. I’d have to go to them.

Or
maybe….maybe we’re quarantined. Maybe there are Hazmat teams outside of the
warehouse, surrounding us with military forces to keep us in and –
no…wait…how would that explain the workers from across the street?

But
why look
up? Was this a
zombie apocalypse? What was happening? My mind was blown, unable to figure out
the reasoning behind the gory scenes that’d occurred right in front of me. I
knew what it was, it was just…something extremely difficult to accept. I mean,
I saw the movies, I played video games with the monsters – but to accept
that it was actually happening? It felt like I was in some weird nightmare that
wouldn’t allow me to wake up.

I
heaved a low sigh, and marched for the doors, looking around for any signs of
those snarling creatures. Those zombies. Biters. Walkers. Infected. As I strode
quickly, I decided that they needed another name. I needed to keep myself
grounded with my thoughts, because I felt that I could lose my mind the more I
lost myself thinking about these things. 

The
Impure. Nah. Not catchy enough.
The Impure are coming after me
! I heard
myself scream in my thoughts, and it made me chuckle. I quickly stifled myself
and rushed for the door – relief hit me once I touched the metal, and I
pushed hard on the bar handle to escape. Only I was puzzled by the slim pipe
that had been jammed in between the handle and the doorframe, locking me in.
Locking me IN. With those things!

I
panicked, pushing hard, struggling to get out – I yanked at the bar, but
I couldn’t move it. I grunted, strained, used all of my desperate strength to
budge it, but…nothing. Gasping for breath, I stared at the bar, then whipped
around to look behind me. I still saw nothing that could have witnessed my mad
struggle for freedom. But I was breathing hard, heavy, and those things could
hear me. I struggled to quiet myself, my neck straining with the effort.

I
turned away from the door, and struggled to get a grip, to keep myself from
getting hysterical. I stared at the empty rows, absorbed the screech of the
fire alarm – the flashing lights.

Had
to ground myself again, because panic was rebuilding from my gut up. In order
to do so, I had the flitting image of video game characters trapped in vicious
worlds that prevented their escape. The moment my mind touched on these
expensive fantasy games, I started to regain control. I was able to think a
little more clearly, panic turning into an uncomfortable roil in my midsection
instead of an overwhelming suffocation.

Now…what
would Heather Mason do? She’d…probably curse and kick at the door and get
angry. Vow to kill. I doubt that was part of my nature. I’m not strong enough
to kill something that…zombie-like. She killed monsters. Not…not these things.
I swallowed hard. Okay…what would Zoey do? Rochelle? Scarlet? Well…they had
guns. And guys like Nick, Francis, Doyle. Me? Nobody.

            Man,
it sucks to be single.

            I
frowned, and shifted away from the door. My fingers were clenched into fists,
and I started to cry – but then I remembered – those heroic video
game chicks all had one thing in common; they grabbed a weapon and decided to
survive. They didn’t stand around and blubber like how I was right now. Wiping
my tears away, I was able to think about these characters more clearly. How
they discovered obstacles and worked around them, searching for answers and
pushing for survival. In one way, it was unrealistic to think I could be like
them, considering their actions were controlled by the gamer, but this was all
I had right now. Once I was able to focus myself away from my building blind
panic, I decided I needed a weapon. A gun preferably – daddy made me
shoot a few at the range, so I had the basics down – but I hadn’t come
across any such things here in the warehouse.

            A
jolt of remembrance hit me. I didn’t come across any guns, but I did come
across knives. Survival gear. Inspired, knowing exactly where to go, I resolved
to get it together. There had to be another way out of this warehouse. And
there were enough weapons for me to use to do so. I removed my brightly colored
safety vest and dropped it onto the floor. Then
made
myself walk toward
the other end of the warehouse, where the items I had in mind were commonly
found.

: :

            I
made it to Red section with no trouble – but by the time I made it up to
the third level, which was dark and foreboding, I started to doubt myself and
my intentions. Once I had myself armed, I mean – really, what was I going
to do? Knife a biter to its death? Everyone knows you need to eliminate the
bastard’s head to completely kill it. So how was I going to do that? I suppose
I could use an axe or hammer, but would I even have the strength or
coordination to do that?

            Observing
the darkness of the third level I knew pretty well, I hesitated upon stepping
fully onto the floor. I swallowed hard, realizing that I was pretty thirsty.
But would one of my fave zombie killing heroines stop for water when they were
in the middle of a mission? Probably not.

            I
took a deep breath, then ventured onto the floor. Just hours earlier, I
remember coming across a bin that was stacked with tactical vests. I could
probably use one of those to stack my supplies in. After a couple of minutes of
cautious walking, I found the bin. I took extreme care in unwrapping the
cardboard and plastic from the vest, frowning at the size. After some minutes
of pulling tight all straps, I resolved on leaving it as it was, and proceeded
to search for batteries, the flashlights I remember seeing the day before, and
a few other things. I found this awesome Stanley Max Fubar II – an
awesome prying and destroying tool that was about eight pounds and vicious
looking - but I didn’t know where to put it on me. So I tucked it into one of
my belt loops, where it banged against my thigh and hip with discomforting
movement. It was a bit awkward to hang my arm naturally on that side, but I
figured anything would help.

            I
got a jolt of excitement as I loaded my vest with supplies. I found a reliable
flashlight that could double as a weapon, just in case I couldn’t find the
knife sets. A small first aid kit that had the very basics. I tucked it all into
my pockets, and then went in search of a knife. I found it at the very end of
the aisle, and carefully unwrapped it from its case. Other goodies spilled out
from it, and it came with a very convenient holster. I awkwardly wrapped that
to one thigh and straightened from my crouch. Looking down at myself made me
smile crazy – I must look so bad-ass. A zombie killing machine.

            I
was so busy preening over my appearance that I didn’t realize it at first
– but then I became aware of it once the lights flickered on. The fire
alarm was shut down. The silence was unexpected, and it made my heart leap into
my throat. I reacted so stupidly, this ‘bad-ass killing machine’ immediately
crouched and crammed herself into the bottom bin, obviously visible but desperate
to hide. The position prevented me from breathing very well, and a human body
cramming itself into something metal and small wasn’t meant to be, no matter
how desperate she was.

            Struggling
with myself, I listened hard to what was going on around me. Lights were still
on, machinery creaking noisily – at the warning blare of an alarm that
signaled the conveyors were about to become operational, I nearly had a heart
attack. I heard the belts starting up, and from the corner of my eye, saw one
of them start to move. Previously filled totes began to shift, disappearing and
reappearing as the conveyor took them to the packaging department. I wondered
what it all meant. Was there still someone in here? Or did the alarm have a
timer of sorts? I blinked and realized that this position wasn’t helping any,
but I didn’t want to be exposed. I flopped out from the bin, crouched low and
shuffled carefully to the end of the aisle. Once there, I touched the knife I’d
found. Its handle was unfamiliar in my grasp, and I really
really
had no
idea how to weld a knife – other than for cutting up food, price tags
from clothes. Stuff like that.

            I
had to focus on being a video game character, again, just to compose myself.
Damn, I was so sweaty, that when drops dangled and fell from my jaw, I didn’t
even bother to wipe it away. I exhaled quietly and realized that I was hearing
human voices.
Men
. I was too startled to stand up and cry out in relief,
crouched as I was. It felt like it had been so long since I had heard something
normal, that I didn’t know what to do.

            “
– surrounded us from all sides! There’s no way we can leave without them
picking us off!” one of them said gruffly, and I winced. Those things could
hear him. They could get him.
Them
. I didn’t want to move, now, I didn’t
want those things to get to me, too. “We have all we need in here. To survive.
Until something else happens.”

“You’re
crazy, we have to leave!”

“They’re
out there, too!” the first one shouted, and I cringed. I waited to hear those
things shriek of discovery, like on the game. But nothing. Just them and some
whimpering, female protests.

“What
are we going to do? Just sit here, then? I’ve got my family to get to!” one of
them cried out. She sounded hysterical. Just like how I felt.

“We
aren’t leaving,” the first insisted, and his voice took on this threatening
quality. I scrunched my face, trying to picture the man this voice belonged to.
“We aren’t leaving! We’ll shack up here. We have a better chance at survival in
here than we do out there!”

“It’s
a better option than going out there,” another man said, almost too low for me
to hear. I imagined him assuring the lady that had just spoken. “We’ll turn off
most of the lights. Live quietly for awhile. Until those things outside go
away.”

“They
can still get in if they want. Have you seen them?” another guy exclaimed. He
sounded young. “Those things from the sky? They’re not like the ones on the
ground.”

“What’s
out there?” another woman cried. “
What’s out there
?”

“Whatever
they are, they aren’t friendly. Radio, cell service is down. They came in
fast.”

“
Who
did? Korea?”

“Idiot!”
the first one exclaimed, and I heard the women exclaim something, the men
muttering. Jesus, who
was
this guy? “They came from the sky! Aliens, or
something!”

‘Aliens’?
Aliens
? Aliens and…zombies? God, it sounded like overkill. My face
scrunched, trying to picture the big-headed things with big eyes. Or Ripley’s
pets.

“They
came, and then those things – they happened,” he continued. They were
moving briskly. On the ground floor, they passed the row I happened to be
hiding on. Something was happening, something was alerting me to trouble
– in the same way I was alerted to trouble during a new video game, when
a Boss was waiting for me around some dark corner. I happened to like that
instinct, so I listened to it now. Staying crouched, my fingers absently
appreciating the knife I’d found. “That’s why we locked the place down. To keep
them out. But those things – “

“They’re
zombies,” another guy said helpfully.

“Right.
They…somehow…
happened
right in here.”

“The
sick people,” the young guy said. “I remember it, because this guy started
coughing like crazy when we were waiting to go outside. Remember, Bill? Then he
started tearing into this lady like she was…meat, or something. That’s when it
happened.”

“They
did,” another guy, I presume to be Bill, answered solemnly. They were getting
further away. I remembered a set of offices on Red’s other side, alongside the
furthest wall, by the restrooms. I couldn’t imagine why they were headed there.
I suddenly looked around myself. While not wanting to be grouped with them, I
remembered that this place was loaded with cameras. I saw a couple overhead
– I remembered the security offices located on the other side of the
warehouse. What if they already had people there? Monitoring me?

            Massive
amounts of doubt and consideration hit me then. If there were people in the
security office monitoring me, I might as well as show myself. But the thing
was…
I didn’t want
to. Something was telling me something wasn’t right. I
swallowed tightly, and couldn’t hear the rest of what they were saying as a
door was opened. It was a tight squeal of sound, nothing like the Exit door. I
decided to chance the maybes of people monitoring the security cameras and
quietly made my way towards the nearest staircase. I figured, in the scheme of
things, that if these people were walking around freely, talking loudly and
making all sorts of noise, that the zombies were gone.

            It
took a few minutes to get from Red to the other half of the warehouse. This
side was extremely still, quiet. No machinery working here. It was also very
dark, very…ugh. I hesitated as the glow of light from the 1
^st
 
section illuminated at least ten feet in front of me. What if those things were
out there, amongst the shelves? Waiting to be reanimated, or something?

            Jesus,
I only have this knife and Fubar. I don’t know how to kill things, other than
spiders. I trembled, my hands shaking as they clutched onto the hem of my
shirt. I looked over my shoulder, back to the bright illumination of the 1
^st
section. To where I knew the living was lingering. I looked back at the point
where I’d tried to go earlier, where the security doors would lead me to the
main entrance of this section. Intrigued by the possibility of an open door, I
withdrew my flashlight. I ventured away from the doorway, noticing that the
large steel doors that had always been open between the sections were now shut
tight. When did that happen? With how massive they were, considering that they
were steel, I should have heard them closing.