Zombies VS Bikers

exploded from his mouth and flew through the afternoon air. He flexed, he pulled, and somehow he managed to get himself up and onto the roof.
Bard lay on the roof panting, not sure if ten minutes passed or ten ours before he was finally ready to move again. He climbed to his feet and took in his surroundings. The roof was wide and sparse in one corner Bard was surprised to see a bank of solar panels. That explained the emergency lights still being on after half a year. To his left sat a small tin hut with a door. Bard’s suspicions that this way the entrance to the store proved correct when he pulled open the door to reveal a circular set of aluminum steps leading down into the building. Bard shut the door behind him, and headed down the stairs.
The stairs ended in a small room lined with bricks, with a wooden door built into the wall directly across from the bottom step. Bard had slung his rifle over his shoulder when he was climbing, but he took it into his hands before pushing the door open. Bard stepped into a dim hall, lined with doors on both sides, all of them shut tightly. At the end of the hall was a heap of products that had certainly once been in the store proper, but were now being used to barricade the swinging door the rest of the Dead Jesters stood on the other side of. There were large boxes that held bikes, long flat but heavy looking boxes that held furniture, and a myriad of other products. Bard started towards the pile with no hesitation.
Bard turned and checked that the hallways was empty behind him once he reached the barricaded door before setting the rifle down in the corner and going to work clearing the boxes from in front of the door. A voice rang out behind him after he had managed only to move a patio table and the chairs that matched.
“What do you think you’re doing?” a man called, his voice bouncing from wall to wall in the tight corridor like a silver ball in a pinball machine. Bard spun around, reaching automatically for his weapon, pulling the stock of the rifle into the crook of his arm and pointing the barrel at the man who had spoke. The man walking toward was armed as well, but his handgun was shoved into the waist of his pants and he was holding both of his hands up. Bard guessed he was in his mid thirties, and he wore khaki pants and a light blue button up shirt. While he wasn’t wearing a nametag, Bard guessed he had worked at the Wal-Mart. Behind the man one of the doors Bard had passed was opened, with a few people in the doorway, peeking out.
“My friends are on the other side of this door,” Bard said, letting the barrel of his gun lower slightly.
“Okay, how did you get in here?” the man asked.
“The roof,” Bard answered.
“Bring them in that way too, I don’t mind taking more in, but we can’t be messing up that stuff.”
“I can’t, the ladder broke,” Bard said.
The man considered this for a moment, coming to a stop a few feet from Bard, where he offered his hand. “I’m Scott.”
“Everyone calls me Bard.”
“Great to meet ya,” Scott said with an effortless smile. It seemed to Bard as if the man were still just a mid level manager at a Wal-Mart, discussing the price of work boots with him instead of offering sanctuary during the zombie apocalypse. Behind Scott a large man came through the open doorway, shoving his way past the people who had gathered there. The man was dark skinned and easily six and a half feet, if not more. He held a metal baseball bat in one hand and had a meet tenderizer hanging from one of his belt loops.
“Who’s this guy?” the large man asked Scott.
“Bard,” Scott answered. “His friends are on the other side of the door, Bard came in through the roof.”
“So we gonna let him stay here?”
“Sure, him and his friends,” Scott said, surprising Bad with the tone of authority in his voice. “We got enough of everything to go around.”
“Sure, we do, but the less people we have, the longer it’ll last.”
“Now John, we’ve been over this, more than once, alright?”
Bard watched as the big man named John simmered, standing a few feet behind Scott, who spun back towards Bard with another Wal-Mart approved smile. “Now let’s get this door opened and then shut back up tight.”
Bard and Scott began on the door, and were soon joined by John and a couple of other people who came to help from whatever room lay beyond the open door in the hall. Within minutes they had the window in the door cleared, and Bard took a moment to silently check in with Big Mack, stuck on the other side. He could see everyone on that side was accounted for, and when Big Mack mouthed the name Slim, Bard had to shake his head sadly before going back to work.
Half an hour later the door was cleared and The Dead jesters came in, rolling their bikes in along with them. Bard started introductions but Scott cut him off. “Let’s get this stuff back in front for the door, and then we can meet everyone all at once.” Bard nodded and they worked to quickly barricade the door once more.
Sweating and exhausted Bard led the Dead Jesters to the open door, beyond which turned out to be a large break room, with another door in the back leading to another, smaller break room, with a large glass window in the wall between the two. Bard stepped aside when it was time for introductions, leaving that work to Big Mack. Big Mack stepped forward and shook Scott’s hand, and then nodded to each of the break room natives as they were introduced. There was