They took a vote, and everyone, with the exception of Whiteside, voted to investigate the gunshots. With that settled, they made sure their weapons were locked and loaded. They double-checked their bags and double-checked the storage units they had slumbered in. No one wanted to leave anything behind. It would be a real pain in the ass if you lost a can-opener or a spoon.
When they were finished, they left the doors to the storage units open and stepped out onto the snow-covered pavement of the storage facility's parking lot. Annies waited for them at the main gate, but they hadn't encircled them. Walt could see that if they were quick, they could escape through the backside of the storage facility before the Annies could reach them.
They moved quickly, and Walt stretched his legs as he went. It was going to be tough going if he pulled a muscle. They repeated the steps they had gone through the previous day, sending over Epps and Allen first while Masterson and Brown helped Tejada get up and over the fence. Tejada was sore today. They could see the strain on his face.
What Tejada really needed was time to heal, but Walt knew that there wasn't enough time for that. He was going to have to heal on the fly. He didn't know if that was possible. None of them were doctors. Hell, he, Rudy, and Amanda weren't anything at all. The world had ended before they could find their careers. At least the others could call themselves soldiers. He guessed that was what he was now. The others treated him as such, though his bond with the others wasn't as great. He hadn't gone through basic training. He hadn't watched the city fall apart in front of his eyes while his friends were devoured. The other soldiers had seen those things, but they still considered him one of them. He hoped so, at least.
When they were all up and over, they found themselves standing between the iron fence and a grassy hill that sloped upwards. They didn't climb the hill but moved parallel to the fence, heading west. They listened for gunshots as they went, glancing toward the horde of Annies that were trying to push their way through the fence's iron bars to get at them. Walt silently thanked the gods that they didn't have the power to think. They could gain some ground on the Annies as long as they were stuck at the fence.
As soon as they passed the fence and were away from the storage facility, the dead started shuffling after them. There was a good hundred yards between their group and the dead. They circled around a strip mall filled with boring things like mattress stores and a carpet warehouse. To their right, they could see the hell that was the highway. It was separated from their position by a hundred yards of grassy berm and a chain-link fence with spiky metal tips jutting above the cross pole. Hundreds of the dead milled around the highway, some trapped in cars, some wandering aimlessly between the snow-covered road. No one suggested they make their way to the highway. It would be a death sentence.
Instead, they rounded the corner of the strip mall and pushed their way through the snow to the main road. They were careful as they approached, avoiding the drainage ditches on the side of the road to prevent twisted ankles or worse.
As they reached the road, they heard the gunshot again. They were close.
Walt pointed in the direction he thought the gunshot came from, and they tore ass down the street. He had his bowling ball unslung from around his shoulders. The dead ahead of them were on the march. Even if he was deaf, Walt would know from which direction the shots came because he could see the dead homing in on them.
Walt ran in the lead, his breath pluming out before him. He swung American Express through the air, crushing any of the dead he happened to pass. As another gunshot rang out, the dead stayed locked onto the sound of the living, unaware that food was right behind them.
He crushed several skulls, sending the dead to the ground. The others laid into the dead with their hatchets. They didn't stop to check and see if the dead were truly dead. There wasn't time. Whoever was firing off their gun might as well have been ringing a dinner bell.
They kept to Cornell Road until they saw another road peel off through a shopping area. Walt's mouth watered as they ran past an Old Chicago pizza joint. He would kill for a slice of pizza. Up the hill they went, knocking down the dead as they went.
He was coming up on a woman with long gray hair, when she turned suddenly, her arms held out to Walt. He swung his bowling ball sideways just as the Annie turned, sending the bowling ball sailing past her head, the rope wrapping around the Annie's neck like a bolo. It pulled the Annie closer to him, and he dropped the rope and stepped back to avoid the Annie as it fell on its face, clawing at his retreating form. It landed face down in the snow, and Walt stepped between its shoulder blades and pulled on the rope wrapped around its neck. The bowling ball wouldn't come free. So he stomped on the back of the creature's head until the gray hair turned red with slushy blood. When the Annie stopped moving, he unwrapped the rope from around the creature's neck.
Walt stood and realized he was in last place now. Everyone else, even Tejada, held between Rudy and Amanda, had passed him.
He hurried to catch up,
