Heart of Fire- ON HOLD

III

Chapter Three

The horde of Rotters let out a blood-thirsty, ear splitting screech.

My body seems to react on auto-pilot mode as I turn around and scoop Emma up into my arms, her drawstring full of DVDs dropping to the floor. She wraps her arms and legs around me as I run in the direction we came from, my mind reeling, trying to come up with a plan.

I hear the Rotters close on our heel, and desperately search around for a way out of this situation. I continue running down aisles, adrenaline pumping through my veins, turning corners to slow them down.

I spot a door to a small room that was probably an office and quickly come up with a plan.

I turn more corners, putting more space between us and the Rotters. They're inhumanly fast, but have very bad coordination, so I've learnt that turning quick corners is harder for them. It'll give us some extra time as it'll slow them down a bit, but it won't hold them off forever. I'm a human, I'm bound to get tired, and my muscles will inevitably give up on me. Rotters however, are not human. They could run for days on end at the same inhuman speed without slowing down.

As I run, I quickly instruct the 4 year old in my arms, "Stay in the room. Lock the door and find a hiding spot. Take out your knife from your N.O.S.B. and hold it. I'll come back for you."

She whimpers as she realizes that I'm leaving her, but she knows better than to protest.

I continue running, turning another corner, "DO NOT open the door for ANYONE. No matter what you hear DO NOT come out. You know to open the door for me when you hear the secret knock. Understand?"

She nods sadly at me.

"I mean it Emma, don't open the door for anything except the secret knock. Come out for absolutely nothing. I'll come back for you. I promise." I tell her hastily.

I turn another corner and sprint towards the small office room, risking a glance behind me and see that the Rotters are no longer behind us, but I hear them fast approaching.

I fling the door open, glancing around the dark room that's dimly lit room from the small window in the top corner. I deposit Emma and my N.O.S.B, quickly checking the lock, doing a mental happy dance when it works.

"LOCK THE DOOR AND HIDE LIKE I TOLD YOU!" I roughly direct, stepping out of the room and swinging the door closed, leaving Emma inside.

I turn around and see the horde turning the corner, screeching as they spot me. I wait for them to get a little closer, making sure that I have the attention of every last one of them so that I can draw them away from Emma.

I jog backwards a bit, waiting as the last one turns the corner. Confident that I have their full attention, I turn around and sprint away, turning another corner.

I spot a big, climbable shelf and sprint harder towards it. My legs are screaming at me, my heart pumping fast, my breathing hard, but my eyes stay focused on the shelf, tunnel vision creating a path of where I can climb up.

I finally reach the shelf and waste no time scrambling up it. I reach the top in record time and turn to see the horde reach the shelf. I grab my shotgun and waste no time picking off the Rotters attempting to climb the shelf.

I drop it when I run out of ammo. I only managed to hit 3 in the head, which caused them to drop, but I didn't deliver a kill shot to the others I hit.

I grab the 2 handguns strapped to my torso near my ribs and instantly start firing with both hands. Bodies start dropping to the floor, but the horde is relentless and I don't deliver a kill shot for every bullet I shoot. Rotters are riotously climbing the shelf, blinded by bloodlust and hunger for human flesh.

The shelf starts rocking and I focus my energy on trying to keep my balance. I feel the shelf rocking from the force of the mindless Rotters urgently trying to reach their meal. I desperately glance around, trying to find another shelf to jump to or another plan of action.

Before I can even formulate a thought, the shelf is knocked from under me, and I'm suddenly airborne. I land hard on my back and quickly roll to my feet and sprint mindlessly in a random direction, ignoring my protesting body and airless lungs. I feel the horde close on my heels, probably only 8 or 9 of them now, and register that I left my shotgun and 2 handguns behind.

I turn a corner, and swear out loud as I see a dead end. I turn back around to find a new route, but stop dead in my tracks as the horde enters the aisle.

I'm trapped.

I can't die here. I didn't last this long to die in a WALMART. I can't leave Emma on her own.

The Rotters let out another screech and charge towards me. I hold my ground and grab the two handguns strapped to my thighs. I pull them out and start shooting with both hands. Before I can kill all of them, 3 Rotters are on me, slamming me into the wall behind me.

I gather all the strength I possibly have left in my fatigued body and try to keep them as far away as I can.

It's hopeless. Three inhumanely strong Rotters against one fatigued 18 year old girl.

If I die here, I'm going out fighting.

I glance around and see a pan sitting on the shelf. I gather all the courage I have and am about to grab it when I hear 3 consecutive shots.

The 3 Rotters that were previously trying to eat me drop dead to the floor, and I stumble backwards from the sudden lack of force.

What? I didn't shoot them.

I look around for the source of my rescue and my eyes stop when they find it.

About 20 feet to my left stands a guy, about 20 years old, a recently fired gun resting in his hand near his thigh.

His short dark hair looks tousled in an I-just-got-out-of-bed way, but he manages to make it look stylish. His smiling dark eyes meet my guarded green ones as we size each other up in silence. He's wearing a fitted black t-shirt which accentuates his tanned muscles, black cargo pants, black combat boots, and a smirk.

He's the first to speak, his deep voice laced with amusement, "I think the words you're looking for are 'thank you'."