He dug through the backpack for the pillowcase he had snatched for scavenging runs. “Back in a flash.” He dropped his pack.
Escaping out the backdoor, Justin dashed to the next block. The Dollar Tree’s busted sign reminded him how much he loathed store runs without a backup. Normally he would search each aisle. No time for that.
He tried the door. Unlocked as usual. What aisle? Crash! Three Zs knocked over a display of Star Wars toys and stumbled over each other to get him. “Thanks for the warning, slime balls.” He went into action with a series of kick-boxing moves, separating them to keep from getting mauled.
He slashed the first one in the throat with his uber-sharp melee knife. The other two found their feet and pounced him at once. He fell flat on his back. A numbing in his tailbone attempted to seize his back as two fart-breathers dove in for kill-bites. He had to do it. He whipped out his Glock. Bam! Bam! “Next time use Scope!”
Justin rolled his back against the hard floor, smoothing out the kinked muscle. Had he just blown it for everyone? Enforcers couldn’t pinpoint two gunshots, right? They were probably too busy securing the Zones, he convinced himself.
He ran down the endcap aisle, knowing Ella was probably stressing over the gunshots. The Summer Barbecue banner dangled from the ceiling and drifted in the wind from the opened door. “That’s it.” He found the bug spray next to a picnic display. He scooped an armful of cans into the pillowcase, sending cans clattering to the floor.
He ran back to the street. WTF! The horde had caught up to him. He’d never forget those Walmart vests. And there were more of them. No problem. He could run faster than a horde. But Ella couldn’t. She had given birth two days ago.
He ran straight for CiCi’s Deli, not bothering to hide as the plan formulated in 3D. He knew what he was doing. The trick had worked before.
Dean stood at the deli’s entrance, scowling. “Son, you led them straight to us.”
“No worries,” Justin panted. “The backdoor.” He handed the pillowcase to Scarlett. He fumbled through his backpack, looking for the bungee cords he had nabbed from the warehouse. They came in handy. “I’ll lure them inside. Find something to block the backdoor with. Then I’ll secure the front door with these.” He held up the wimpy bungees like they were Q’s latest high-tech gadget.
By the time the horde reached the strip mall’s parking lot, Dean rushed everyone out the back. Then, for some bizarre reason, the horde stopped. The leader of the pack, the one with all the flair on its tattered vest, hunched its head from side to side. Was it deciding which way to go?
“Slime balls, over here!” Justin goaded.
They gawked in his direction. The leader abruptly stopped. The gang of Zs piled into one another like super ugly characters in a morbid graphic comic book. They lumbered in his direction, much slower and awkwardly than X-strains. Not so scary, he told himself. But that one Z, obviously the leader, had to be a Thinker.
When the Thinker reached the deli’s sidewalk, Justin charged out the backdoor.
Dean grappled a bloodstained rod. “Luther, help me retrofit the backdoor with this piece of rebar.”
Justin glanced at Ella to make sure she was okay. Bad idea. Her fear leached into him. He shook it away and sprinted to the closest end of the strip mall. He peeked around the corner. No Zs insight. They better be inside the deli. He kneeled his way across the storefront’s walkway afraid he would run into a wayward Z.
In stealth mode, he tried closing the deli’s front door. It jammed. Stuck open! From what he could see, the horde was fascinated with the backdoor, pummeling it. Except two Zs. They lunged him. Luther was suddenly by his side. Together, they shoved the Zs back inside with the door. Luther muscled the door shut.
“Thanks!” Justin gasped. Frantically, he fastened the bungee cords. They ran to the back of the deli to find Scarlett and Dean staring at the barricaded door.
“We trapped them inside,” Justin assured.
Justin grabbed the pillowcase of bug spray from Scarlett. “Spray your pants and shoes. When we get to the safehouse, I’ll spray the perimeter.” It had worked awesomely back in Sacramento, where he and Ella had lived on the rooftop for several months.
“Until they associate bug spray to humans,” Scarlett commented snidely under her breath.
“Ella. Can you run?” Justin asked. Please, say yes!
“I think so.”
“And you?” Justin eyed Dean. They were out of time. It was like he witnessed time tick-tocking backward, faster and faster.
“Not to worry,” Dean said. “A horde of hungry dead-heads on my heels is like a shot of adrenaline to the ole ticker.”
“Can we go yet?” Twila shouted. “Their pain is killing my soul.”
For an instant, Justin understood what Twila meant. The pain was there, dancing in her eyes. He shook the image away. “Okay, so let’s start off jogging. Ella, tell me when you need to stop. I’ll take Mateo.”
“No. You need all your energy to fight them.” Ella was right. As usual.
He held open the pillowcase. Everyone automatically dropped their bug spray into it. And Justin led the way. They made it to the intersection. Then the next one. As they passed street after street, the Bluebird Lane street sign shined brighter and brighter in his mind. This must be what Scarlett and Twila see with their super-vision powers. It was way weird. But, hey, it was a real thing. He should stop discrediting their metaphysical abilities.
They snuck down the street, hiding behind cars, hedges, trees—stopping at the slightest sound. Trash
