"This is all bullshit," Tish said.
"You can't stop the final judgment," Gina replied, looking at Bunny.
Bunny shrugged. "But I can fight it with all I have."
Another of the girls, Amber, began to cry then. "We're all going to die, aren't we?"
"Probably," Bunny told her.
"Then what's the point? Why fight it?" Amber screamed at her.
Bunny leveled her with a determined gaze. "Because, when somebody tries to take something from you, you don't just give it over. You fight back. If they want it that bad, make them earn it. But you never just give it. You make them take it or die trying."
Rebecca wrapped an arm around the crying woman as the others in the room fell silent, soaking in Bunny's words. Of them all, only Randy seemed unsurprised by her attitude, but then again, he was the only person in the room who knew Bunny’s entire story. He was the only one who knew the truth about why she was a stripper instead of a cop.
The front door slammed open, a small-framed man in glasses, covered in blood, darting through. He stood for a moment, looking at them as they jumped up and stared at him in surprise.
"Help me!" he cried. "They're coming for me!"
Chapter Four
“PLEASE!” THE MAN IMPLORED. "They're right behind me!"
"Who is?" Bunny asked.
"Those..." he hesitated, "People."
The look in his eyes was pure terror. Bunny could see his hands trembling and all but hear his heart pounding. She knew, though, that if their situations were reversed, and it was her asking a room full of strangers to give her refuge from flesh-eating corpses, she'd probably leave out the part about flesh-eating corpses.
"Bruno, get the door," Bunny snapped as she slammed the box of shotgun shells down on the bar and began loading as fast as she could.
He was moving before she even finished talking, darting across the room to snap the slides into place at the top and bottom of the door, as well as engage the deadbolt. Randy was a few steps behind him, retrieving the crossbar from behind the counter and dropping it into the waiting arms, barricading the door.
Not a moment too soon, either. The two men jumped back as the door rattled; someone, or something, outside trying to open it. They backed away as it went on for several minutes, Rebecca hushing the crying girls. Caroline leveled her gun at the door as Bunny finished loading the shotgun and chambered a round.
"You," she said, leveling the shotgun on the stranger in the room. "Have you been bitten?"
He raised his hands a bit, both afraid yet looking somehow relieved. "No, I haven't."
"Scratched? Vomited on?" Bunny asked, the weapon in her hand betraying no tremble.
He shook his head. "No, neither. The blood on me, it's not mine, or theirs."
"Whose is it, then?"
He swallowed, looking down at the floor. "My wife's."
Bunny stared at him for a bit longer before lowering the shotgun. "Sorry to hear it."
He dropped his hands, but said nothing, instead moving to the bar and grabbing the first bottle of whiskey he saw, downing it. Randy pointed at him, giving Bunny a look, but she just waved him off. She figured the poor guy needed it.
"Dale," he said after a minute, gasping past the burn of the whiskey. "Dale Fowler."
"Bunny Beckman," she answered, offering her hand before introducing the rest of the people in the room.
Dale took her hand slowly, but shook it warmly. "Thanks for not tossing me back out there with them."
"Don't mention it," Bunny replied. "I'm guessing it's not good outside, then?"
Dale gave her a startled look. "Not good? What do you mean ‘not good?’ Are you guys deaf or something?"
Bunny looked at the others over her shoulder. "Not sure what you mean."
"It's hell out there," Dale told her solemnly. "Pure hell."
"It's not been a picnic in here," Bunny said.
Dale shook his head. "I'm serious. How could you not hear the explosions?"
"Explosions?" Bunny exclaimed.
"It's the building," Randy cut in. "Concrete-filled cinderblock walls, with sound-proofing under the paneling. Damn noise ordinances and all. If it didn't happen in the parking lot, we wouldn't hear it in here if a damn nuke went off."
"Add the loud music from earlier," Caroline put in. "God knows what's going on outside."
"God don't want to know," Dale told her. "And I don't blame Him."
Bunny was shaking her head. "This isn’t good. If there are more of those things out there, we need to make sure they can't get in."
"Door's locked and barred, Bunny," Randy said. "They ain't getting in."
"What about the loading dock doors?" Bunny asked him.
"Shit," Randy whispered.
"Right. New plan," Bunny said. "Caroline, take Gina there and go check all the windows. There're two in the storerooms and the ones in the front and back restrooms. Make sure they’re closed and locked, and if you can, barricade them somehow."
"Got it," Caroline replied, waving Gina over.
Bunny tossed the shotgun to Bruno. "You go with Tish, check the loading bay and all emergency exits. Chain the doors, whatever it takes. Make it secure."
"On it," the burly bartender replied.
"Randy, you and the rest of the girls barricade that door. There's plenty of chairs and tables here, and I know the supply room has hammers and nails. Get them and make sure nothing can get in."
"What are you gonna be doing?" Randy asked.
"Going up to the roof. I want to get a lay of the land. See how bad things really are," Bunny told him.
"I'll go with you," Rebecca said. "None of us should be alone."
"Works for me," Bunny replied as she picked up a broken table leg. It wasn't much
