Footsteps echoed behind her and she whipped around, bringing her crowbar down on top of a zombie skull. It stumbled, and she smacked it again, cracking it this time, and as the corpse fell, another launched at her from right behind it. She kicked it in the chest, sending it back away from her, and then stabbed forward, killing it with an eye shot.
When she emerged from the other side of the shelf, Troy was just sending another shoe rack downrange, and it flattened a few more ghouls on the stairs on the left side. Grace crept along behind another bookshelf, and then soundlessly darted out to the back of the far left of the horde.
She stabbed one in the very back and then jumped back. Troy’s voice was growing hoarse, but still loud enough to hold their attention and drown out the sound of falling bodies, so she lunged forward for another, picking off the zombies at the back.
By the makeup counter, Hawk leapt over a pile of bodies he’d amassed in front of it, and crept quietly behind the horde on the right side. Between him and Grace, they began to fell corpses, and Troy upped his noise game to keep them as focused on him as he could.
“Yeah, fuck you, fuck you, and especially fuck you!” he bellowed, brandishing a metal post from one of the racks as well as his crowbar. He started to play a drum beat on one of the racks, and although he didn’t have much rhythm, it was loud and did the trick.
A zombie spun around and threw itself at Grace, and she instinctively ducked, sending it tripping over her and flopping to the floor. She dove to the side in case any of its friends decided to join it and then circled around to stab it before it could get up.
Before long, Hawk and Grace had taken care of all of the standing zombies, leaving only the ones crushed by racks and shelves.
“Hang tight up there,” she called to Troy, who gave her a little salute. “I need help with the magazine rack,” she said to Hawk, motioning back towards the ghouls trying to slither out from beneath her fallen shelf.
“Nice one,” Hawk commended, and they strolled over to the rack, still running on adrenaline. One ghoul had managed to wriggle its way half out, and he dispatched it before kicking a leg sticking out beside it. “I pull, you stab?” he asked, and Grace nodded.
He wrapped his hands around the flailing ankles and jerked, pulling the zombie clear. Grace stabbed it quickly, and then they turned back to the escalator, where a few pissed-off ghouls thrashed, tangled up in equipment.
“Think it’s safer to disentangle them, or climb up and stab through the racks?” Grace asked, and Hawk shrugged.
“Either or is plenty unsafe,” he replied, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
This was life, now.
She nodded and moved forward, climbing up onto the center median and shimmying up the escalator. She jabbed a few times through metal posts and clothes hangers, eventually catching the last animated zombie in the skull, ending the threat.
Or at least, the immediate threat of the department store.
“That went a lot better than I thought it was gonna,” Troy called from the top, pressing a hand to his forehead.
Grace nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Me too,” she admitted. She slid down the median and hit the floor, waving for Hawk to follow her to the elevator. “Let’s do a sweep and go back upstairs,” she instructed, pulling the walkie-talkie from her pocket. “Job isn’t over yet.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Department store is secure,” Grace said into the radio as she and Hawk stepped out of the elevator.
There was a moment of silence before No Name came back, “Good. We have some fenangling to do.”
“Fenangling?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The guitar is still going, and we need those zombies to come to the department store side,” he explained. “So we’re going to cut the power to that end of the mall, and when it stops you can draw them all to your end so we can shoot them from the access panels.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay,” she replied. “And what about the zombies on the bottom floor?”
“We’ll mop those up after we deal with the second floor,” No Name replied.
“And go and get Eddie and Leo, right?” Grace asked firmly. “They’re probably pretty pinned down over there.”
“Yes, once we finish off the ones you can draw to you, we’ll come in and take care of whatever is left on their end,” No Name said.
She nodded. “Okay, we’ll cause a ruckus over here, just make sure your guys are ready.”
“Done,” came the reply, and then she shoved the walkie-talkie back in her pocket, leaving the volume up in case he needed to get back to her.
Hawk swiped his palms together and slicked his sweaty hair back, having slid his crowbar into his belt loop once again. “Being stuck in the cafe was nicer, at least we had coffee,” he said.
“You guys got coffee?” Troy asked, throwing his hands up. “I miss all the best shit.”
“It was really good coffee, too,” Grace teased. “Freshly brewed dark roast.”
“Stop, girl, you’re making my mouth water,” Troy replied, waving her off as they headed for the doors.
She sighed. “I mean, I would much rather go for a latte, but it is what it is,” she said wistfully.
“Triple-shot mochaccino,” Troy moaned, licking his lips.
Hawk rolled his eyes. “Listen to you both with your hipster drinks,” he drawled. “Black coffee, strong as hell, that’s all you need.”
“Pumpkin spice with almond milk, extra foamy,” Grace continued, ignoring him.
“Short espresso with whipped cream on top,” Troy added.
She nodded emphatically. “Yeah, what’s that called, a con panna?” she asked, pointing at him. “So good!”
“Disgusting,” Hawk muttered.
As they reached the doors, enjoying their tiny bit of levity in a terrible situation, they could hear the guitar muffled in the distance.
“I don’t know if that’s Eddie or Leo, but
