The group ran out of the ballroom, leaving the beautiful fountain of beer and the small amount of peace they’d found there. They were making for a back entrance; there was a receiving bay by the kitchens and Elliott was hoping the zombies weren’t as interested in that exit. Roger plowed ahead of them, making a path through the panic. The festival goers had turned into a herd of insanity, and they were all determined to lemming themselves right off the cliff; Elliott could smell the fear.
In the midst of the chaos though, Shavian’s warm, soft hand was still held in his own; there was a slight tremble in it, though from fear or adrenaline or both, Elliott couldn’t say. There were a lot of layers to this girl. But the important thing to him was she was still holding his hand.
“The important thing is getting out of here without running into zombies!” Shavian shouted indignantly. Elliott’s heart stopped; had he said that hand thing out loud? No, she wasn’t even looking at him. She pulled him up short, and was looking at Roger who had ducked into a conference room and was digging through an ice bucket full of beer bottles. He’d gotten so far ahead of them Elliott hadn’t even noticed he disappeared.
“Rog!” Elliott called. “Come on!” Roger shot him a dirty look but stood and joined them in the hall. The crowd thinned as they made their way to the back. Ahead lay the swinging doors into the receiving bay; they found the room abandoned and at last they were free to run as fast as they wanted.
Which was pretty fast.
Fipps led the way, dashing between boxes and pallets of new sheets, his knife held in against his forearm, though Elliott hoped no zombies got close enough for that. The rolling bay door was down, but Elliott found the button to raise it.
Scabby, dirty hands reached in under the lifting door, and drooly moaning could be heard. Roger lifted his rifle, a freakishly happy smile on his face; Higgins calmly backed up a few steps, drawing his sidearm and aiming at the door.
“Close it, close it, close it!” Shavian cried, but Elliott had already stabbed the close button about ten times by then. Swollen fingers came off under the door.
“Now what?” Jackson asked, ducking away from Fipps who looked tempted to punch him again.
Elliott pushed his hands through his hair, trying to think. They had to get back to the SWAT van; the longer they were here, the less their chance of ever finding Junie. Elliott’s gamble, that the back door would pose less attraction for a mob of zombies, wasn’t paying off. Who was to say that his next idea would be any better? Panic and fear crept into the corners of his mind, but he had to be brave. He had to find Junie.
Elliott’s finger hesitated over the open button on the bay door. Shavian’s eyes were wide, and she was staring at him, her head shaking slightly. With a deep, steadying breath, he waved everyone to the side or behind cover; he then punched the button and the door raised.
The first zombie lurched up onto the chest high loading dock, his filthy fingers scrambling for purchase. He was sporting dreadlocks, orange hemp trousers and a black t-shirt from High Stakes Records. Higgins, who had never stepped out of his ready stance, fired a single shot and the zombie flew back. In the past few hours Elliott had heard more gunshots than he had in the whole entire rest of his life, but this shot seemed worse and louder than most. It echoed through the high-ceilinged warehouse and hurt his ears like hell. And there was a strange calm in that moment in which Elliott could clearly see, in all horrible detail, the zombie’s head fly apart as it was knocked down off the receiving dock. There was no look of surprise on its face, like it had already died once and couldn’t care less about doing so again.
Shavian squeezed his hand, and time sped back up again. She let go, raised her pistol and pulled the trigger six times. Six zombies went down and she reloaded. Roger let loose with his rifle, clearing a path, and Higgins and Shavian took down anything he missed.
Elliott looked both ways out the door, then turned back to his friends. “Run for it!”