When the next stone smashed one of the panes, the male followed her.
When the next missile smashed another pane, they both began to moan and moved more quickly towards the sound.
The women dashed for the open door. Anita was fast and got there first, slipping inside and out of sight. Lisa was right behind her, but the infected were quick to react, too. They were moving fast. Surprisingly fast. The male was close. Too close. The moaning intensified. It made the hairs rise on the back of her neck. She wasn't going to make it. She looked straight ahead and pumped her arms and legs.
As she reached the door, she was sure she felt his outstretched fingers brush against her back, before Anita grabbed her arm and dragged her inside, pulling the door shut behind them.
The doors had push bar mechanisms on the inside, and the women clung to the bars as the infected outside roared and pounded in fury.
Lisa had to shout to be heard above the noise. "They can't get in. They're fire doors. There aren't any handles on the outside. We can let go."
She let go and stepped back. "Anita! It's ok. We can let go!"
Anita looked at her but held on for a few minutes more, before she too released her grip.
The banging and growling continued.
They turned their attention to the room. A single bulb on the ceiling provided enough light for them to see that it was a small storage space, crammed with bags of compost and irregular towers of brown cardboard boxes. The only other exit was a single, windowless door at the back.
Lisa went to this door and pressed her ear against its surface, but all she could hear was the infected outside. A line of white light shone through the thin gap where it met the floor.
"We've got to go in and get what we've come for." Anita shrugged.
"Yeah." Lisa tried the handle. "It's locked."
Anita examined a unit on the wall. "There's a slot for a key card here."
"Great!" Lisa kicked the door.
Anita looked at her. "They'll have one." She nodded in the direction of the barrage of noise.
"Don't even think about it, Nita."
"Come on, let's just open the door a crack and see what we can see. What choice have we got? If we can't get through, we'll have to go back out that way anyway."
"Shit!" Lisa turned and went back to the double doors.
Anita opted to open the door as she was taller and stronger. Lisa's job was to look for the key card. She crouched low to stay out of the reach of nails and teeth.
Anita pushed the bar down and eased the door open a few inches. The noise increased in volume as the enraged group of infected became even more agitated. Multiple grey fingers with dirty, discoloured nails spidered through the space.
At first, all Lisa could see was a mass of moving legs as the small crowd clamoured around the door. They were actually pressing it shut, and Anita had to fight to keep it open wide enough for Lisa to get a good look. But, somewhere, in the blur of noise and movement, Lisa caught a glimpse of a key card hanging on the belt of what she thought was the female in the polo shirt.
"I see it," she hissed. "Hold it steady."
Anita strengthened her grip on the door, and Lisa slipped her arm through the opening to grab for the card. In one movement she snatched at it and threw herself backwards. Anita released the door and it slammed shut, accompanied by a new salvo of pounding and enraged snarling.
Lisa was on her back, clutching the card, which was still attached to its owner by an elastic cord. She secured the card by twisting the cord around her fingers and grappled with the knife in her other hand. Anita took the knife from her and cut the cord in one swift movement. Lisa grinned as she held the card up triumphantly.
They were even more pleased with themselves when they slid the key card down in the slot and heard the mechanical whir as the door unlocked. They pushed it open slowly, momentarily dazzled by the bright light that flooded in.
As their eyes refocused, they looked around. They were in the back corner of the main shop. Nothing looked out of place. The shelves were neatly stacked, and the aisles were clear, but they waited and listened. From the front of the shop, they could hear a dull, repetitive knocking, but otherwise all was quiet apart from the gentle purr of the strip lights and the hum of the ventilation system.
"We should check it's clear first," Lisa suggested.
Anita nodded and mumbled her agreement.
They systematically swept the shop, checking the aisles one by one, gradually working their way from back to front. It was a vast space. As they moved, Lisa mentally noted things that might be useful. They could still hear the knocking sound. It seemed to be coming from the checkout area.
As they approached the front of the shop, Lisa saw the source of the sound. A female worker was sitting in her seat still facing her till. She was trapped in the small booth and the knocking was the sound of her chair hitting the counter as she rocked back and forth. Her throat had been torn open and old, dried blood had turned the front of her green polo shirt a rusty brown.
One step closer and she saw them. Her vacant expression became a glare and she reached for them, rocking faster on her seat, turning the knocking into a loud banging. She opened her mouth to moan, but no sound came from her ragged throat.
Anita strode over and finished her with the poker in one swift
