Dead America: Lowcountry | Book 5 | Lowcountry [Part 5]

their fingers must be bleeding by now,” Troy said.
Hawk shook his head. “Nah, that’s some pro playing there. If they’re that good, they’ve got calluses on their fingers the size of this mall,” he pointed out.
All of a sudden, the music stopped, and the lights down the hallway went out.
“Make some noise,” No Name’s voice came through the radio, and the trio nodded at each other.
“Makes sense to open the doors and yell until they get close enough, right?” Grace asked, and though the others looked reluctant to break their safe barrier, they knew she was right.
Troy put a hand. “Let’s all do one set, though, just in case,” he suggested.
“Good call,” Hawk agreed, and they moved to the right set of double doors. “You take one, I’ll take the other, and Grace you’re on locking duty?”
She nodded and knelt down, pulling up the deadbolts from the floor. “Ready,” she said, and they pushed open the doors.
The boys began to holler, and Grace pulled her lip between her teeth, letting out one of her sharp whistles. She could see a square of light on the floor with a silhouette in it and assumed it was one of the mercenaries up top at an access panel. Another square of light appeared next to it, and a second silhouette, which was comforting. At least they were there, ready. She just hoped the plan would work.
Soon, the footsteps thundered towards them, and they could see a horde tearing up the balcony towards the doors. They hollered until the zombies reached the sporting goods store, and then Hawk and Troy pulled the doors closed, and Grace locked them tightly. She grabbed the radio.
“Get ready!” she barked into it, but the guys up top had already opened fire.
Bullets sprayed the horde in full automatic fire, peppering their bodies into swiss cheese. Those that didn’t get hit in the head still fell backwards from the momentum of the shots, and the horde began to fall, bodies piling up and causing the ones behind to trip in a stumbling mass of death.
“Is that...?” Grace asked, squinting, staring out at a particular zombie flopping and twitching just on the other side of the doors.
“It’s Joseph,” Hawk replied, shaking his head.
She wanted to say he shouldn’t have run, but it didn’t need to be said. They’d lost three today, and hopefully they wouldn’t lose a fourth. Or a fifth. Or a sixth…
It didn’t take long for the mercenaries to plow through the mass of corpses, and soon there was nothing left but limp, bullet-ridden bodies in a heap.
“If they have this much ammo, why do they insist on sending us into buildings with crowbars?” Troy snapped, throwing his hands up. “This is fucking absurd!”
Grace shook her head. There was no time for this type of thinking. They had to get through this job.
“It’s a power trip,” Hawk said, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. “That’s all it is.”
Grace lifted the radio to her lips. “Looks good, what now?” she asked.
“We’re going to come in from one of the roof access stairwells and go clean up wherever the decoy team is,” No Name replied. “I’ll need you three to come out and watch the escalator, make sure nothing is making its way up from the bottom floor.”
She nodded. “Got it,” she said, and pocketed the radio again. “Crowbars ready,” she instructed. “I don’t trust that all of these things are all dead.”
Hawk opened the door, weapon tightly in hand, and they carefully picked over the mountain of corpses, making sure nothing was still moving or moaning. Troy found one, stabbing it despite it being pinned by a ton of its brethren, but the rest were all still.
The trio converged at the top of the escalator, and there were a few ghouls milling about at the bottom, but no other corpses to be seen from their vantage point. As gunfire echoed at the far end of the mall, Grace assumed the ones on the bottom floor were probably hanging out over there.
“So, we just wait?” Troy asked. “I like this.”
Hawk rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As Eddie continued to shred the guitar, playing a crunchy rendition of one of his favourite classic rock tunes, two things happened at once.
One, the power went out, killing his wicked solo, and the second was the distinct sound of shattering glass.
“Stay clear of the door!” he yelled, assuming that the glass breaking was the door window. The louder moans and snarls solidified this theory.
“I can’t see the door!” Leo cried from somewhere behind him.
“Then stay away from the sounds!” Eddie called back, frantically scrambling for his crowbar. He didn’t think any of the zombies could get in, especially through an opening so high off of the ground, but he didn’t want to take chances. He needed to kill as many as he could to plug the hole in the door.
“What are you doing?!” Leo yelled as Eddie dropped the guitar with a crash.
“I need to kill enough of these fuckers to barricade the door!” he called back.
“But how can you see what you’re killing?!” came the shrill question. “If you get bit and turn into one of those things, I’m boned!”
Yeah, only you’d be boned, Eddie thought bitterly, but chose not to argue. His hand finally clasped around the crowbar, and he stood up, listening hard, willing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. But there was no adjusting to this. If the power was out, then the only light in the mall was from the sparse skylights in the center over the main walkway, not close to this store. Between the shadow of the deep store, and the horde of zombies blocking the door, it was completely devoid of sight in there.
He strained his ears as he moved, and then tripped over one of the fallen drums, cursing as he fell to his knees. However, it gave him an idea, and he picked up what felt like a snare