Twenty First Entry: Trick or Trick (Part 1)

October 31st

This may have been the most horrifying Halloween ever, and not for any good reasons. The planned trick or treat event for the kids has been called off after today's events. This was probably the worst day since all of this started.

We had a clean-up scheduled for around midday (we've been waiting all week for a non-rainy day), so I was hanging around Alex's office talking to Tara when it happened. A tremor ran through the whole of Mallville, and emergency alarms sounded.

What happened, from best I can find out, is this; a small car, evidently packed with explosives, came screaming through the parking lot towards the Administration exit. Like the exits to the outside in the shopping area, this is a big wide hallway with three sets of swinging glass doors. The whole thing is more than wide enough to drive a car through once who break through the metal frames of the doors and windows.

The car was not able to get into the hallways though, as the big metal security gate was rolled down. After crashing through the glass, the car rebounded off the gate a few feet and then exploded. The blast is what rocked Mallville enough to be felt up in Alex's outer office.

The explosion not only demolished what was left of the windows, but took out a good portion of the wall on the second floor above the entrance, and turned the gate into so many splinters of metal. The guards stationed at that entrance were probably killed before they even fully realized that something had hit the building.

The fire alarms sprang to life; a recorded voice urged people to evacuate the building in a calm and orderly fashion. Confusion spread as members of the security force tried to explain to people that the recording was incorrect, and that the exits were still sealed. People were told to stay calm, stay where they were, and wait for further information.

“What the fuck was that?” yelled Alex, poking his head out of his office into Tara's area.

“I don't know. It sounds like something blew up,” replied Tara, going to the door to the hallway, and sticking her head out.

People were running out in the hallway. Someone yelled something about an explosion breaching the perimeter. Hearing this, Alex ducked back into his office and Tara followed him.

Moments later they reappeared, armed with M-16s. Tara had one in each hand, she offered me the one in her left hand, holding it by the hand guard.

“You keep guns is your office?” I asked Alex.

“Doesn't everyone? Come on, this sounds like some serious bullshit.”

I took the rifle from Tara, feeling a little queasy as I did, and followed them out into the hallway. Smoke was starting to fill the air from the fires burning downstairs and in some of the outer offices on the second floor.

Tara, Alex, and I took the stairs down to the ground floor, and stepped out into chaos. The main hallway was full of smoke and panicked people. Security force members in their bright white shirts stood out against the smoke, some trying to move towards the fire, and others trying to direct people away.

We fought our way through the panicked crowd, it seemed like there were more people here than there really should have been, but that may have been a result of people first trying to see what happened, and then trying to get away once they did see. Once we arrived at the junction where the main hallway met the entry hall we found a scene of utter destruction.

Where there had once been a gray metal gate in front of a wall of glass and metal was now a ragged burning hole. Water sprayed down from the ceiling, some from the fire sprinklers that had been triggered, but mostly from a spot where the sprinkler pipe had broken in the ceiling; it was just gushing out in a stream from there. Where the car must have been was a small smoking crater in the sidewalk with blackened pieces of metal around it, the car as a whole was gone, as was the metal overhang that had sheilded the glass doors from the hot sun during the summer.

The inside fared no better, the remaining ceiling lights flickered, small chunks of metal and shards of safety glass littered the floor, pieces of what had to be the gate stuck in the walls and ceiling all around us. Anyone actually standing in this hallway would have been torn to shreds by the shrapnel.

Up near the hole that let out into the gray daylight were people, a scattering of people, some members of the security force, some not, were trying to extinguish the fires not being put out by the weakened spray of the fire sprinklers with bright red fire extinguishers.

Alex pushed his way towards the gate, Tara and myself in tow, his feet squishing and crunching on the soggy carpets and bits of glass and metal,” What the fuck happened?” he demanded of a young member of the security force. When ?I say young, I mean that the guy was sixteen if he was a day, with a bright red afro trying to put out a burning chair with his extinguisher.

“We were attacked! Someone set off a bomb or something. I was around the corner when it happened, or I'd be dead like Stewie and Teebow (T-bo?). They were, like, right fucking here man, and then they were gone.”

“Shit!” cursed Alex. He turned to me and Tara, “We need to get these fires out, and get this area secured. This repair shit is going to fall on me, you know?”

As if on cue, someone somewhere finally figured out how to turn off the alarm, and suddenly the only noises around us were the whooshing bursts of fire extinguishers, the sound of running water, and the ringing in my ears.

“Alex!” a familiar voice called.

Security had managed to clear out a number of the people not actively trying to put out fires, and Sharon was able to move through the couple of dozen remaining people towards us easily.

“Are you okay?” Sharon yelled over the din of the alarms once she got to us.

“Yes. What are you doing here? This isn't safe, we don't know how stable this area is now. There may be serious structural damage.”

“You weren't in your office; I was worried,” Sharon explained, seemingly unaware that Tara and I were even there.

“Oh shit! Incoming!” yelled a voice. It was Milton, he was standing by the ragged hole in the wall. Through the hole I could see three large trucks, I'm talking bigs rigs, not any little U-Move trucks this time. They were the flat-fronted kind, what do they call them, “cab over”? Anyway, it was the kind that looked like the real Optimus Prime, one was even red. The other two were black,

The two black trucks stopped a hundred yards or so from the building while the red one pulled up in front of them so that the side of the trailer faced the building. In large painted letters on the side of the truck was the following message:

YOU DON'T FUCK WITH US KAUR
TRICK OR TREAT

After sitting there for maybe a minute, the truck started rolling again; it drove around the other two trucks, and pulled up parallel with them. After a few seconds, all three trucks started rolling towards us again.

“Oh Shit! Pull back!” Yelled Alex, “Get back, everyone get back!”

It was a good thing that a lot of people had already been cleared out of the hallway, because everyone left ran for the end of the hallway at the same time. Tara grabbed my arm, and yanked me after her as she ran. We made it to the end of the hall, and got around the corner, unrealistically hoping to be shielded from the coming explosion that would likely demolish this portion of Mallville At least this far in the fire sprinklers hadn't been triggered, so there wasn't water pouring down on us.

The hard thuds of the trucks hitting the side of the building ran through the walls and into us, but the explosions never came. Silence overtook us for a second, broken only by the sound of running water.

“We are so fucked,” came a soft voice from next to me. I turned to see Mitchell Malloy standing there. I don't know if that was directed at me, or just him thinking aloud though. We haven't really spoken in the last couple of months, not since he told me to get out of his apartment.

After a few more seconds of no explosion, Alex, who positioned himself nearest the corner at the intersection of the entry hall and the main hallway that we had sought cover in, stuck his head around the corner.

“Oh shit! Call for backup!” Alex yelled, presumably at the security force officers. He looked even more pale than usual, terrified in fact.

Being both stupid and curious, a bunch of us, myself, Sharon, and Tara included, moved up to where Alex was, and saw what had so freaked him out. The smell hit us, overpowering the smell of smoke and burnt building, before our eyes registered what they were seeing. Crowding through the gaping hole was an army of the undead; there must have been at least a hundred of them. Somehow the Hell's Postmen (I assume) managed to corral a hundred zombies into the backs of trucks? How?

The four security officers present were all calling into their radios for help, but there is no way help could get here fast enough. We were on our own.

“Like I said, we are so fucked,” commented Mitchell absently, shaking his head as if refusing the believe what he was seeing. I turned to look at him, but his eyes were fixed on the slowly approaching wave of zombies. It was then that I realized what was going on; this was my dream, the one I wrote about a couple of weeks ago. We weren't in the shopping area, and there was no gate to roll down to contain the zeds, but this was it. Everyone was here except for Gerry.

“What are we waiting for? We need to stop them before they get inside!” yelled Maria, who I had not even noticed was there. She was holding a Mossberg rifle, and did not hesitate to move to the center of the hallway's intersection, and start firing.

I guess we were all waiting for someone to give the order, as soon as Maria started shooting, Alex, Tara, me, and the security officer present flanked her and started firing into the zombies. My insides were like ice, it's not just that I was terrified at the prospect of the zeds destroying our little sanctuary, I don't think I ever really believed that could happen, but that I was scared of my dream coming true. I was terrified of losing Tara, and Sharon, and even Alex.

The zombies started dropping in waves as a hail of bullets tore into the front of the group, but the overall effect was like pissing on a house fire. Sure, we were having an effect, but it was going to take a lot more than our pitiful stream to keep this fire from spreading.

I kept firing until I heard the click of my gun announcing that it had run out of ammunition. About the same time Tara's gun made a similar click, followed by Alex's, and then Maria's Mossberg ran dry as well.

“I'm out of bullets. I need ammo!” I cried.

“Same here!” stated Tara.

“Yeah, me too. We need to fall back,” shouted Alex over the sounds of the security officers still shooting at the zeds, who were getting closer.

“You didn't bring any extras?” I asked Alex incredulously.

“Do you see any?” he asked, sounding annoyed.

Three more security officers came running down the hall towards us along with Gerry McElroy; all were carrying M-16s. I realized at this point that pretty much everyone else had fled except those of us who were armed, Milton, Sharon, and Mitchell. I also realized that now everyone from my dream was there.

“Please tell me you brought extra clips,” Tara practically plead.

“A couple,” replied Gerry.

The three members of the security force joined the line at the end of the entry hall, and started firing. The zeds were still getting closer as they stumbled over the dead bodies that fell before them.

“Share!” ordered Alex.

From the waistband at the back of his pants Gerry produced a clip of ammo, and tossed it to Alex, he then pulled out another and tossed it to Tara, “Sorry, man,” he said to me, “that's all I grabbed.”

So there I stood holding a useless rifle as the undead drew ever closer.

“Fall back, don't let them get close enough to grab you!” yelled Alex. He started backing up down the left hand branch of the hallways, away from the central entry hall. He was conserving his ammo this time, picking his shots carefully, but still his ammo ran out quickly.

Sharon, Mitchell, Milton, Gerry, Maria, Tara, and I all backed down the left side, while the security officers backed down the right. The zombies seemed to divide pretty evenly as they split to follow us. I couldn't tell you how many of them were left, the whole hallway seemed to be one big writhing mass of them.

“Fuck! The door's locked!” cried Milton, who had retreated to the row of wooden double doors connecting this hallway to the next. He was moving from door to door, shoving on the crash bars, trying to get the doors to open, “We still in here, you stupid muthafuckas! Let us out!”

Sharon was standing next to me, and when I looked over at her, I saw she was looking at me. She looked scared, I think even more so than when we were captured by the Hell's Postmen themselves. This was the first time she had looked me in the eye since our fight. I hoped it would not be the last.

We both broke for the doors at the same time, crashing into them, trying to force them open. I tried kicking one of the doors, but they are solid wood in heavy metal frames, built with the intent of keeping people out, and I am not John McClane. The door did not budge, but pain did shoot up my leg, and into my hip.

Gerry's gun clicked on empty, then Tara's, and there was still an army of the undead approaching us.

Maria snarled at the doors, and the hurled herself at one with a running start. She leapt at the door, hitting it hard enough with her shoulder to rattle it in its frame, but not hard enough to break it open. She rebounded off of the door, and landed on the floor on her ass.

So there we were, a wall of locked doors behind us, an army of the living dead in front of us wanting to invite us for lunch, and not even enough ammunition left to kill ourselves to make sure that the zeds didn't get the pleasure. As Mitchell said, we were fucked.

You know what I thought during that moment? What could easily have been my last conscious thought as we faced certain death? Priceless is one word to describe it, retarded would be another.

I thought, “If this were a TV show, this is where they would put the commercial.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Twentieth Entry: If It Were A Snake

October 21st

I am once again torn by my feelings.

The last couple of weeks have been pretty quiet as things go around here. The tension levels seem to have settled nicely; not gone away by any means, but leveled off. There have been two more incidents of zeds in the mall, one suicide, and one accidental death (a little girl fell down a staircase in the residential area while her mother was sleeping, neighbors who came running managed to get the woman away before her reanimated daughter could bite her), but the kind of simmering dislike of the security force has not boiled over into violence yet.

I am starting to think Ash may have been right. How much longer can it be before someone on one side or the other strikes out? What will happen then? My stomach sours at the very thought of having to leave here for good. Yes, I am being melodramatic.

Plans are moving along to try and do something for the kids for Halloween. Alex has been stockpiling candy, and the plan is to do trick or treating around the shopping area with Mallville staff and store employees handing out candy.

Alex told me that there are around 500 kids in Mallville (he did not specify what was being considered a kid though). That just doesn't seem like very many to me; it's only like 20% of the total population. Of course I have no idea what the national average is, was, so maybe it's a lot, I don't know.

The park move-out went surprisingly well, and with no time to spare, as we had our first rainstorm last night. There are now five people living inside Insert Coin. Chris and Molly Trevor, and Bryan and Toni Rogers and their pre-teen son Bishop. They're all really nice, and I've gone down and spent a couple of evenings with them, Tara even joined me once.

Chris was a contractor, and Molly a web designer before the end. They came here after the end of the first month when it became clear that the government had basically abandoned us, and they had run out of supplies in their house. They were one of the first people to have to set up camp in the center park.

The Rogers have a different story. They were in town on a vacation/job interview; Toni was a weather girl in Lovelock, Washington who was interviewing with a local station to be an anchor. The good news is she got the job, the bad news is that before the celebratory vacation was over, all hell broke loose and they could not get back home. They stayed in their hotel for a few weeks before the remaining staff, who were also hiding out there,asked them to leave. Bryan said they were very nice about it except for the guns they were holding.

Bishop is an interesting kid, a geek in the making. I hope he gets the chance to bloom into full geekhood. He was the only one of the five that set his tent up inside the store, and I'm not so old that I do not understand the desire for privacy at that age; hell, I still desire privacy sometimes. He asked me if I could bring out some of the video games for him to play.

“If I brought them out here, you'd either have a bunch of people wanting to play, or someone would try and take them from the store,” I explained.

“Oh,” he said, looking sad.

“Do you like to read?”

“Yeah, but I only had a couple of books with me at the hotel, and the people at the bookstore won't let me borrow any.”

“How does this sound. I'll loan you some of my books, and I'll get you a DSi and some games out of the back. The only catch is that you need to keep them out of sight. I don't want you getting hurt if someone tries to take it from you.”

His face lit up like I offered him the keys to the Batmobile, “Oh, I promise. I'll only play in my tent with the sound off and a blanket over my head to block the light.” Spoken like a kid experienced in after-bedtime gaming.

I told Bryan and Toni of my plan to make sure it was okay. They were very grateful, Toni even cried a little, which got the attention of Chris and Molly, so I let them in on it as well; it's not like Bishop was going to be able to hide it from them anyway. Bryan and Molly asked if I could maybe loan them some books to read too.

I ended up in my storage space down in the parking level going through the boxes of books I have accumulated over the years. I brought up a small shopping bag of maybe a dozen books. I tried to be varied. I ended up deciding on a couple of “Stainless Steel Rat” books, some Heinlein, a couple of “Shadowrun” Novels, and some collections of short fiction. I almost tossed in a collection of zombie stories without thinking. I used to love zombie stories.

I'm not sure who was more interested in getting into the bag when I put in on the sales counter, the kid or the adults. Molly and Toni both kissed me on the cheek, which prompted a dirty look from Chris that lasted just long enough for me to worry before it turned into a smile and a chuckle. I consider it my good deed for the week.

Something big happened last night, and for the first time in months, it did not involve guns or the undead. I realized that for the first time in years, I love someone other than Sharon, and for the first time ever someone loves me back.

I've never really been in a relationship before. I've dated girls, and I've even gotten a few into bed, but never a real relationship, at least nothing I would call a relationship. Certainly nothing where the term 'I love you' was used.

It was just another night at Tara's. We were debating bringing a few decks of cards down to Insert Coin and trying to strike up a card game with them when things got serious.

Tara had made pasta with Alfredo sauce for dinner, and even though it was really good, and I could easily have eaten more, I refused her offer of seconds. I know she's getting extra supplies through Alex, but I still don't want to put a strain on them.

After we finished doing the dishes, Tara kind of stood in the way, blocking me in the kitchen, “Can we talk?” she asked.

Shit, this is where she dumps me She's grown tired of me, and would rather go back to being alone all the time than deal with me. Or so I thought.

“Yeah, sure,” I actually said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“We've been spending a lot of time together, right?”

“Yeah, it's been fun, but if you want to spend less time together, that's fine,” I blurted out.

She ignored that part, ”And we agreed to just be friends, right?”

“Right, 'cause you're into Alex, and I'm after Sh-”

“I know who we each like,” Tara cut me off, “I've been doing some thinking., and I was kind of wondering if you maybe have any feelings for me other than just friendship?”

“I'm not sure I know what you mean,” I said, honestly unwilling to believe what it sounded like she was asking.

“I know that you are in love with Sharon, and I'm still in love with Alex, but it doesn't look like either of us has any chance there. I've really enjoyed spending time together, and I really like you as a person, and,” she paused for a second before taking a deep breath and continuing, “and IthinkIloveyou!” she blurted out like one big long word.

The words hung I the air between us; I had to take time to process this. Did someone really just tell me that they love me? Did a beautiful geeky woman just tell me that she loves me? Has she been hinting at this, and I've just been too unwilling to accept that someone could feel that way about me.

Let me be honest here, I've gone out on dates, and I've gone to bed with girls, but I've never had what I would term a “girlfriend”. I usually end up straight in the friend-zone, even if it is friends with benefits it still never becomes anything serious.

A minute probably passed (although it seemed like an hour to me) between Tara confessing to me, and my responding. Her eyes had completely lost their normal confidence, the look that she gives everyone when it is not just her and I alone, and looked on the verge of panic, and she was biting her lower lip. I think she was taking my silence for rejection. I had to come up with an answer; do I love her?

The answer came to me like a light bulb going on over me head. Yes, I do feel love for her too.

“I,” I took a breath, “I love you too.”

“Really? You're not just saying that?” there was an almost pleading look in her eyes

“Yeah, really.”

She threw her arms around me, and held me tight. She kissed me hard, and I kissed her back.

“What about the others. Do you want to keep this a secret?” I asked her when the kiss ended.

“Alex and Sharon both think we're sleeping together at the very least anyway, so why bother? It's not like Alex is interested in me anyway, but if you want to keep it secret, I understand,” she sounded slightly dejected as she said this, but I'm not sure if it was the idea of Alex's lack of interest, or the idea that I wouldn't want people to know that bothered her.

She was right though. Ever since catching us hugging in the hallway a couple of weeks ago, Sharon has been persistent that there was something more than just food and geekery going on between Tara and myself. Maybe she saw something that Tara and I were not, or at least something that I was not seeing.

Sharon would make little comments a lot, especially if Tara's name actually came up in the course of conversation. Most of her comments were actually kind of mean, like she's a little bit jealous that someone else could be interested in me. Her big thing, of course, was the age difference, Tara being a full ten years older than me and all.

When Sharon would bring this up I would generally point out to her that there was nothing going on between me and Tara, and that the age difference between her and Alex was greater to the point that he could be her father if he had her at a young age. This has generally resulted in Sharon calling me an asshole, and then not talking to me for awhile. I was very thankful when she stopped and went back to just being snarky.

“ I have no reason to try and keep it a secret,” I replied,” but what if things change between Alex and Sharon?”

“If they become available again, then we will have to re-evaluate our situation.”

“Who would you choose between me and him if we were both willing?”

“Don't make me choose, that's not fair,” Tara kissed me tenderly on the lips, “I'm not asking you any questions like that.”

Fair enough. I couldn't answer that questiont anymore easily. Right now I'm not sure I could even give an answer. I don't think I am thinking clearly; I've never been in this type of a situation.

“Do you still want to go play cards downstairs?” I asked.

“No, I think I'd rather stay in with you,” Tara said with a smile.

I ended up spending the night with Tara. We did not go all he way, but we did get to know each other better. I'm not going to go into any details about that though. A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell...and neither do I.

Of course the real fun was this morning when I came home. Sharon was already up, and was laying on the couch, reading a volume of “Battle Royale” for the umpteenth time. She didn't lower the book, so Kazuo Kiriyama's face sneered at me as she spoke, “Did you have a good night?”

“I was at Tara's.”

“I know where you were.”

“Is that a problem?”

Sharon put the manga down on the coffee table roughly, “What you choose to do with your life is none of my concern.”

“Why do you hate me being with Tara so much, it's not like you have any interest in me. It's not like you have ever had any interest in me.”

“What did you want me to do, pounce on you naked? I've waited for years for you to make a move, yet you have no problem telling Darth Cougar how you feel about her,” Sharon suddenly exploded at me.

“Okay, fine, maybe I should have spoken up sooner. It doesn't matter though, because you're with Count Sigler now,” I snarked, trying with great effort to keep a level voice.

“That's right! Alex isn't afraid to tell me how he feels.”

Now it was my turn for a small explosion, “Alex isn't afraid to tell anybody how he feels,” I yelled, “about anything!”

“No, he isn't, and you know what? Neither am I! I love you, I have always loved you, but you've never bothered to notice; you've flirted and teased and been jealous when I've dated anyone else, but you have never just told me that you have feelings for me, and now it's too late. That doesn't change that I love you though, and I care about you, and I don't want to see you get hurt by her. Have you see the way she looks at Alex?”

“I know exactly how she feels about Alex. I also know how she feels about me.”

“Well then you better tell her to keep her claws in you, and away from him. While you're at it, maybe you should keep some distance from me for awhile too!” Sharon got to her feet.

“I live here!”

“Well maybe you should go live with your darling Tara,” she stormed off into the bedroom, and slammed the door behind her.

“That's my bedroom!” I yelled at the closed door.

“Asshole!” her voice replied from behind the door.

I stood there for a few seconds, breathing hard, trying to slow my breathing, and regretting the whole scene. I still regret it. Sharon and I have had our fights before, but never like that.

“I love you too,” I said quietly to the closed door.

Apparently I did not say it quietly enough, because Sharon must have heard it. “Fuck you!” she bellowed from behind the door.

So that is where things stand. Tara loves me, and I love her too. Sharon finally admits that she loves me, and then curses me out for my never telling her. Love was there in front of me all along, but to be honest, and maybe I'm just still mad from the argument, I don't care all that much.

Sharon had every opportunity to approach me is she had feelings for me, so she is just as guilty as I am for us never pursuing a relationship. Tara did not sit around waiting for me to suggest taking our friendship to another level, she asked me. Maybe it's just a maturity thing, who knows?

I think I may finally be happy with Tara, and while that may not last forever I don't know how much of a forever is even before me. I'm going to enjoy what I have, and take everything else one day at a time right now.

Ninteenth Entry: A Dream is a Wish?

October 7th


I had a really bad fucking dream.


It's three in the morning, and I cannot go back to sleep. I came down here to Insert Coin to be alone. I need to think. I need to get this out of my head.


Last night was nothing special. After finishing up with clean-up duty, I went over to Tara's to give Sharon and Alex some alone time (he still won't take her back to her place for some reason, I'm guessing he's a slob). We watched some Cowboy Bebop and had popcorn, it was nice.


After that I went back home, and thankfully Alex was gone, and Sharon was already asleep. I brushed my teeth in the kitchen in an attempt at being quieter, grabbed my blankets and pillows from where they had been wadded up on one of the kitchen table chairs, and went to bed on the couch.


I woke up, or at least thought I did, and found Tara standing over me wearing a short black nightgown. “Hey sleepyhead,” she said to me, as she bent over and kissed me gently.


“What are you doing here?” I asked as I sat up.


“ I live here, remember? Why don't you come to bed? You fell asleep on the couch.”


“Because Sharon's in there,” I replied, completely confused.


“Why would Sharon be in our bed?” asked Tara, looking confused.


“She lives here. Hashmir gave her apartment away when she was missing. He gave it to Parasite because she was living in her store, remember?”


“Have you been drinking?”


“I wish,” I replied.


“What's wrong with you? Did you have a bad dream or something?”


“Life is one big bad dream this year.”


“I love you too,” she replied, sounding a little hurt, “Are you okay?”


“ I guess. Why do you live here again?”


“Because we decided to both live in your apartment while we saved up for a house,” Tara was starting to look worried.


I held my hand up, but there was no wedding ring on it.


“So we live together, Sharon has her apartment back, what about the zeds?”


“Zeds?”


“The zombies? The undead plaguing the Earth?”


“Have you been playing 'Abandoned 2 Die' again? What is it with you and zombies?”


There was a knock at the door then. Tara just stood there looking at me like she did not hear it, so I got off the couch and went to the door to answer it. Opening the door revealed Alex Sigler standing there in a University of Michigan sweatshirt with an M-16 clutched in his right hand.


“Come on! It's happening. We're surrounded. It's fight or die time!” Alex yelled at me.


“What? Surrounded?”


“The zombies, a whole horde of them. They're about to breach the fucking building! Let's go!”


I turned to look at Tara who had come up behind me. She was now wearing a black sweater and blue jeans, and holding an M-16 in each hand. She offered me the one in her left hand, holding it out by the hand guard.


“But you told me-” I started.


“We've known this was coming. We'll survive it, we've survived everything else,” Tara reassured me.


I took the rifle from her, and found that I was suddenly wearing jeans and a gray short sleeved shirt. Tara ushered me into the hallway where Sharon was standing dressed in a pink t-shirt that exposed a couple of inches of her stomach, and blue jeans; she too was armed with an M-16.


Everything shifted, and I found myself down in the shopping level. We were crouched down behind a makeshift barrier made up of benches, large potted plants, and rolling kiosks. Directly around me was Alex, Sharon, Tara, Maria, Gerry, Mitchell, and Milton along with other people I recognized, but did not know. We were all crouched down, waiting for the onslaught to come through the doors. For some reason the gate had been rolled up, and only the glass doors stood between us and the seemingly endless number of zombies outside. All of the outside lights looked like they were on, and All I could see out there were zeds.


“Why are the gates up?” I asked.


“Someone's helping them. Someone wants this to happen. Some fucker is working against us. If we have to fall back, we can lower the gate at the end of this hallway though,” explained Alex.


'Why don't we just do that now?”I asked.


Before anyone could answer me explosions made the ground shake. The glass doors at the end of the hallway exploded inwards in a flash of fire and smoke; glass showered down over all of us. The smell of the smoke was quickly followed by the smell of the undead as they rushed in.


“Fire!” screamed Alex.


Our guns bellowed again and again as we fired at the oncoming zombies, and they dropped in waves, but there were rows and rows behind them to take their place, many stumbling over their dead again compatriots as they came towards us. Finally the first one reached the other side of the barricade.


“Fall back!” bellowed Alex, and the call was repeated again and again by others to make sure it was heard.


We kept firing as we backed towards the end of the hallway. Funny thing, our guns never seemed to need reloading during all this. Once we were past the line in the ceiling that conceals the bottom of the rolled up gate, it thundered down, crashing into the floor. A couple of seconds after it was in place, the first zed crashed into it, rattling it against its tracks.


Gunfire echoed through the shopping level.


“What caused this?” I yelled over the din.


“Kaur did this. He had to be the one that had the computer roll the gates up, and he's certainly the motherfucker who called back his guards. Do you see any security officers here with us?” bellowed Alex, pulling me away from the group assembled near the gate. No one was shooting through the holes in he gate, instead waiting for someone to tell them what to do next.


“But he'll die too!”


“He's insane. He's evil! He's somewhere secure, don't you fucking doubt that for a sec-” Alex suddenly fell forward onto me.


I pushed Alex back off of me, and saw that the front of his sweatshirt was stained with a spreading circle of blood, all but obscuring the university logo. Looking over his shoulder I saw Alexandre Rontreal standing in his white and black uniform, his smoking handgun still pointed in our direction.


“No one stands against Hashmir Kaur, not the council, and not you!” Rontreal yelled, and then ran away.


Alex looked me in the eyes, ”Fuck,” he gasped weakly, and his knees gave out.


“Alex!” chorused Tara and Sharon both, and they rushed forward to try and catch him, both going down to their knees with him as he fell to the floor.


“Why did you do that?” asked Sharon, looking up at me with tears in her eyes.


“I didn't do it. It was Rontreal; he shot him in the back,” I explained.


“I know you were jealous, but you didn't have to kill him!” Sharon shrieked, getting to her feet and throwing herself on me, “You took the person I loved because I didn't love you.”


“You should have loved me!” I bellowed in response.


“I could never love you; you're pathetic!”she looked me in the eyes, but her eyes were no longer hers, they had gone all milky, “So now I'm going to take someone you love!”


Sharon pulled away from me, her skin had gone all pale and gray. She turned to where Tara was still kneeling over Alex's body. Tara looked up in terror as Sharon dropped onto her.


The two of them fell over into the unbelievably large pool of blood. Tara screamed my name over and over, begging for me to help her, but I couldn't move. It was like I had been turned to stone.


Sharon's teeth sunk into Tara's neck, and her screams turned into strangled gurgles as her throat filled with blood. The whole time this was going on Maria, Gerry, Milton, and Mitchell stood over by the gate looking mildly interested, I looked at them hoping one of them would help.


“I knew you didn't have the guts when it came down to it,” spat Maria disgustedly.


“ Damn! Catfight!” hooted Milton, the mall's lights flashing off his gold teeth.


“Are you really just going to stand there?” asked Gerry.


“I warned you,” said Mitchell.


I looked down at Sharon and Tara again just in time to see Sharon rip apart what was left of Tara's neck, the spine snapped with a sickening crack. She held up Tara's head for me to see. Tara's eyes still begged for help.

Sharon tossed aside Tara's head and it landed with a loud thud, a sound I should not have been able to hear over the background noise of gunfire, but I heard it clearly all the same. She got to her feet, and started to slowly stagger towards me, her face a blood-soaked sneering mask of rage and fury.


“You'd better put her down,” said Gerry.


“He hasn't got the balls,' replied Maria.


“You are so fucked,” chuckled Mitchell.


“Man, smack that bitch up!” called Milton.


I found I could move again. I brought my right arm up, but the M-16 was gone, having been replaced by an golden colored aluminum baseball bat with a bend about halfway down its length, like someone had been trying to beat up the pole of a streetlight with it.


“It's you or her, man,” offered Gerry.


Sharon's outstretched arm were almost close enough to grab me when a wave of revulsion went through me. I swung the bat hard. Her left arm crunched as the bones snapped. She staggered but did not fall.


“See? You are pathetic!” spat zombie Sharon.


“Don't make me do this!” I yelled back at her.


“Then give up and die!” she yelled back, her voice going all gravelly.


I swung the bat again, this time at her head. It cracked like an egg, and black ooze started to run out and over her face.


“Don't you love me anymore?” asked the Sharon thing in front of me.


“Yes!”


“Then stop fighting. I want you inside me.” it purred in a rotted disgusting way.


“No!” I howled, and swung the bat.


The Sharon thing went down this time, but I did not stop. I kept swinging the bat down onto her again and again until her head was a smear on the shiny floor. Only her blood was not the black ooze that had come out of her head wound, and her skin was no longer gray, it was her normal pale pink, and the blood was bright red as it mingled with Tara's and Alex's blood.


She hadn't been a zombie after all.


“Damn, son, that's cold!” yelled Milton.


“Maybe you do have a spine after all,” commented Maria, admiration in her voice.


“Like I said, you are fucked, and now you're all alone. You have nothing!” Mitchel spat, and started laughing.


Then they all started laughing as I looked from them to the bodies on the floor, and back. I started to scream the word “no” over and over as the gate behind them rolled up all on its own, and zombies flooded in.


I opened my eyes to pitch blackness. I could feel them around me, the undead were all around me. I groped for the lamp on the table next to the couch, and after almost sending it tumbling to the floor, I managed to turn it on.


I was alone, no zeds, no Tara. I was drenched in sweat, and I was crying. I wondered if I had screamed, but when Sharon did not come out of the bedroom, I decided I must not have.


Deciding I needed to be alone, I came down here to think, and write it all down before it had time to fade. Putting it all down on paper has given me time to think about it.


Does it mean anything? Is it just my jealousy? Is my mind trying to tell me something? Is it just that I've been under more stress these last few months than I realize? Am I becoming emo?


I don't think I'm going to get any more sleep tonight, I think I'll play some Smash Bros. to try and clear my mind. I wish I had some booze.

Eighteenth Entry: A Meeting of the Minds

October 5th

Kaur called a meeting of all of the store managers for the shopping levels today. Since Bud's letter states that both I and Sharon are in charge, we both were expected to attend. Due to the large number of people attending, the meeting was held in one of the movie theaters.

Chairs had been set up on the stage in front of the big screen. Kaur was of course sitting in the middle, and off to the sides of him I noticed Alex, Benny, and Mike were all there amongst the heads of various departments around the community. I also noticed that no one from the council was there, nor were there even any empty chairs for them.

Kaur approached the microphone that had been set up,” Hello,” a squeal a feedback ripped through the room. Kaur started again,” Hello everyone, and thank you all for attending. I am going to try and keep this all as short as possible,”

He paused for a moment, either for dramatic effect, or for applause which did not come, ”The last six months have been hard on all of us. We have all lost our way of life, and many of us have lost so much more than that. In the face of this we have remained strong, and made Mallville a strong bastion against the forces of the undead.”

You'd swear we were in a living ocean of the undead the way he was talking. If things were the way he's implying Mallville would have fallen a long time ago, and I would not be writing this right now.

Kaur continued, “While our security and strength have increased in these past months, other problems have arisen. We have had to deal with the decreasing amount of supplies in the area, resulting in tighter food rations, and longer and more dangerous trips for the scavengers. We have had to be on the lookout for people seeking to harm themselves, and thereby harm all of us, by commiting suicide and coming back as the undead.”

As he spoke of suicides, Kaur looked right at me and Sharon. I felt her grab my hand and squeeze it.

“Now we face a challenge that will take all of us assembled here today to overcome. It may be eighty degrees outside right now, but it is still autumn, and winter is approaching. The people currently residing in the central park will not be able to stay there much longer.”

“Here it comes. I've been waiting for this,” commented a guy in the row behind us quietly.

Sharon and I exchanged glances which said we both had an idea of what was coming next.

Kaur continued, ”Over the next couple of weeks, we will be moving those people inside the shopping area. This will also free up the park to be used as a garden come spring time. We will need to become self sufficient if we are to survive.

“In order to accommodate the refugees in the park area, the council is asking that you all open up your storefronts to make room for these people,” finished Kaur

“Wait a second!” hollered Ben Kasai, the manager of Big Box Books,” I thought the council was allowing us to maintain the integrity of our stores until things returned to normal?”

“The council has come to realize that things may not be returning to normal anytime soon. In the meantime, we have offered these people sanctuary, contrary to my recommendations, and we are now responsible for them. As a result of that bad decision, the council must now take steps to see that these people are kept safe.”

“What if we refuse?” asked Teri Dean, the assistant manager of Taco Hut, one of the few restaurants not in the food court.

“The council knows that you are all generous people who want what is best for Mallville since it is in all of our best interests that Mallville stay strong. If anyone objects to this plan greatly, then the council is prepared to deal with those situations as they feel necessary.”

“Where the fuck is the council anyway? Why the hell are we being told this by the head security guard?” asked Stan Garret, manager of Supersize Male.

Kaur visibly bristled at being referred to as a security guard, partly because Mallville's security force is more like the local police than just security guards, but mostly, I suspect, because he just hates being called a security guard.

“The council has spent too long thinking of things in the short term; as a result of this they are now having to spend all of their time coming up with more long term solutions. They have more important things to do than to be holding meetings like this and answering questions that I am perfectly capable of answering.”

That did it; that took a group of retail workers (not generally the most calm nor the clearest thinkers to begin with) from a simmering group of malcontents to a rolling boil of outright anger. Sharon and I stayed in our seats, and kept our heads down as phrases like “treat us like garbage”, “lie”, and “fuck you” were hurled at the stage. Thankfully the chairs were bolted to the floor, or the people on stage would have been hit by worse than obscenities.

“You will take your seats and be quiet!”yelled Kaur into the mic, resulting in another burst of feedback.

From the front row, I saw Teresita Gomez stand up, her back to the stage. She was yelling something at the audience that was completely lost in the din, but I assume that it was in support of Hashmir. I didn't hear any of what she said, but I did hear some of the replies; these featured word like “bitch”, “slut”, and the infamous c-word.

At that point Hashmir spoke into the radio microphone attached to his shoulder, and a dozen members of the security force carrying M-16s entered the theater. Four joined Hashmir on the stage, while the remaining 8 stood in the aisles at either side of the theater looking menacing. The storm of rage continued in the theater as everyone kept directing their anger at the stage.

What finally calmed everyone down was when the rifles were, in unison, aimed at the audience. Sharon clutched me hard as we both dropped to the floor, and waited for the thunder to start.

Thankfully silence fell over the theater instead of a hail of bullets.

“As I said, you will all take your seats and be quiet. It was decided when all of this began that we would abide by the council's decisions, even if we do not always like them, and we are not going to suddenly change that now! Sit down!”

Everyone retook their seats, grumbling as they did. I noticed as we got off the floor that we were not the only ones who had ducked instead of taking our feet. I also noticed that pretty much everyone on stage looked worried, so I'm guessing the display of force was not part o the meeting outline.

“The council realizes that many of you still have product in you stores, and that you are responsible for this product should things ever go back to normal. This this end the council is allowing you to maintain the integrity of your stockrooms. For those of you with stockrooms that are not designed to be secured, maintenance will be helping you to take care of that. Please contact Rosa Trinity in the next few days so they may set up an appointment for your store.

“For those of you with stockrooms too small to accommodate all of your merchandise, contact Alex Sigler at facilities, as they will be handling alternate storage situations. This concludes this meeting. Any further questions may be submitted to my office by e-mail, and I will be forwarding them on to the council. Good day to you all.”

Kaur climbed down from the stage in front of the screen, and walked up the theater's central aisle with the four guards from the stage behind him in pairs looking every bit like Darth Vader marching onto the Tantive IV.

After the meeting cleared out, Sharon and I went over to Insert Coin to start working on clearing out the storefront.

“Do you really think we can fit all of this in back?” Sharon asked, pulling stacks of games out of the glass case behind the counter.

“Probably not the fixtures, but there's not really much in the way of merch to take up a lot of space. The systems maybe....” I trailed off as I stacked blister packed action figures onto a rolling cart.

“Knock knock!” came Alex's voice from outside the store gate. I turned to see Alex and Tara standing there.

“It's open.” I told them.

Alex pulled up the gate enough for Tara to duck under it, and then followed her.

“Hey, hon,” said Sharon, coming out from behind the counter to give Alex a hug.

“I would have thought you two would be busy trying to find places to stash everyone's crap,” I commented at them.

“I've delegated that to Tara,” explained Alex, ending his hug with Sharon.

“I'm off today,” Tara shrugged.

I kind of wanted to go give Tara a hug, but after being caught out in the hallway last week, neither of us wants to promote the wrong idea to our respective love interests.

“So come on then, I know you two have questions,” invited Alex.

“What's for dinner?” asked Sharon.

“Whatever you're cooking. Any questions about the meeting?”

“Do you support this?” I asked.

“Actually, yes. We cannot have those people out there during the winter, or we will end up with more zeds in our midst. There's no reason to leave all of this space gathering dust. It's the same as re-assigning all the vacant apartments.”

“And the ones that were not vacant,” commented Sharon bitterly.

“However, it seems like a total one-eighty for the council to decide this. I've said it before, Kaur is right about some things, the biggest being that things are never going to be quite the way they were again, and until the government re-establishes some sort of order things are going to be nothing like normal.”

“What about the stores that are already being lived in?” I asked.

“I don't know. They could keep living in their stockrooms, I guess. Ultimately that is going to be up to the council, not me. “

“You sound like a regular Kaur supporter now,” teased Sharon.

“I've been telling him that all afternoon,” added Tara,

“Fuck you both,” Alex flipped them each the middle finger as he spoke.

“Do you also agree with threatening all of us with guns at the meeting?” I asked.

“Fuck no! I knew the reaction to the council's decision was going to be bad, but I did not know Hashmir was going to handle it like that. It's that kind of shit that makes me wonder about him. I've lodged a complaint about it with the council, not that he will ever let anything like that get through to them.”

“ Bet you African Swallow doesn't have to open its doors to survivors. They could fit a dozen people in there probably,” commented Sharon.

“I'm sure Kaur will have a good explanation for that,” I said.

“I'm sure Kaur will feel he does not need to make any comment on it. If he was worried about propriety in the first place, he wouldn't be fucking her when everyone knows about it,”

“ You mean like you and Sharon?” I asked, getting an amused look from Tara.

“I'm not worried about propriety either, lucky for you,” Alex said to me, “ I heard about the Funyuns.”

That pretty much finished our conversation, or at least the interesting parts of it. The rest of the afternoon was spent stacking games and toys up in the stockroom. Alex and Tara stayed and helped for awhile.

We actually got all of the merchandise into the back room, and Tara is going to make sure maintenance sends around someone tomorrow to install better locks on the stockroom door. The hardest things to move were the demo kiosks; it took Alex, me, and Sharon to muscle them into the back.

Tomorrow I'm going to disconnect the registers, and move them in back too. The only things that will be left in the front of the store then that is not nailed down will be signage and the shelves, and those will probably just get shoved into a corder.

Sharon and Alex went back to my apartment, and I'm going to go hang out with Tara later. Right now I am sitting here alone in the office. I've cleaned it up a bit, bagging up all of the trash from when Bud was living here, and leaving it out back for sanitation to dispose of. I'm not sure what they do with it actually, but I think there is an incinerator down in the parking levels.

I boxed up what little Bud had of his here. Pictures, his Pokemon cards his letter. He had a couple of changes of clothes he got from Supersize Male, one outfit, a brown t-shirt and a pair of jeans had been hung up in the bathroom to dry after being washed in the sink. I don't know why he did not just use the laundromat. They were stiff that way things are when they have slowly air dried with no fabric softener.

I left the mattress that he had been sleeping on, I just stripped the sheets. I might consider coming down here to sleep to get some quiet sometime. At least here I can have a door between me and everyone else. I need to go launder the sheets though.

I cannot stop thinking about what happened in the movie theater today. It's not the first time this year I've had a gun pointed at me, so why does it bother me so much? Why does Kaur's security force pointing guns at me scare me more than those bikers did?

Maybe I'm starting to have trouble telling the “good guys” from the “bad guys”? Maybe there are no good guys.

Seventeenth Entry: A Truckload of Trouble

October 1st

We had a bit of excitement during clean-up today, someone sent us some helpers that we didn’t want.

I think I’ve mentioned before that the standard clean-up uniform is blue coveralls, work gloves, and one of those bright orange vests like highway workers or hunters wear. We wear those so if any shamblers happen to wander into the vicinity while we are out there, the roof guards can tell us apart. We also all carry pistols just in case. This has been a working arrangement up until today.

There has been a rise in zed activity around Mallville recently, and after today I am thinking it is not a coincidence. It was unseasonably warm, and we were out there in the parking lot that surrounds the shopping community/fortress like a giant moat of asphalt like normal, picking up dead zeds, and tossing them in the back of the maintenance pickups so we can take them around back and burn them.

There were a dozen of us; myself, Maria, Gerry, and Sharon were all there along with some of the other clean-up regulars. Milton Saxon was again showing off the gold “Rolax” that he looted off a corpse a couple of weeks ago, and Gerry was trying to convince him that there is not normally an “A” in Rolex again (this has become a routine since Milton found the damned thing) when our security escort noticed movement up the street in the mouth of an alley..

“What the fuck?” Security officer Claudia Lapari cursed, squinting to try and get a better look. Claudia was a real security officer, not one of Hashmir’s new refugee militia. She was a short stocky woman with skin a little darker than Maria’s. she’s made it clear before that she was no supporter of Kaur’s expanding the security force, which is probably why she got stuck out guarding us.

Claudia’s comment derailed Milton and Gerry’s discussion, and we all turned to look at the subject of her interest. It was a truck, a medium sized U-Move truck to be a little more precise, and it was slowly rolling towards us.

Claudia pulled her radio from her belt, “Control. We have a truck approaching us out here. Are there any scavenger runs going?”

“Negative. I’ll alert the roof, and see if they have a visual,” replied the radio.

Suddenly the engine of the U-Move roared, and it accelerated at us,” Look out!” yelled Maria.

All of us scattered except for Claudia, who unslung her M-16, and with her back to the truck bed full of rotting corpses, aimed at the approaching truck. When it was only about twenty yards away, she realized it wasn’t going to stop, or turn, and she opened fire.

Her aim was good, the bullets pierced the driver’s side of the windshield. The windshield became an opaque spiderweb of cracks and holes as the bullets tore through it, but it did not slow. In fact it seemed to correct its steering so that it aimed right at Claudia.

“Get out of the way!” yelled Gerry, but Claudia never moved; she stood her ground shooting at the truck, now firing into the engine instead of the windshield.

The U-Move slammed into the back half of the maintenance pickup with Claudia still standing between them. The sound of breaking glass and crunching metal overpowered the sound of Claudia's body being torn apart about halfway up here back, where the edge of the pickup's bed came to.

The pickup spun clockwise away from the impact, and the U-Move was sent up onto its driver's side wheels, before crashing down onto its side, and skidding a few yards. Claudia's torso spun through the air, the M-16 slipping free of her hands, and came to the ground with a foul splat a couple of yards past the U-Move, the rifle clattering down next to it.

Maria went into kill mode, pulling her sidearm, and running around the front of the U-Move. She kicked in the what remained of the windshield, prepared to finish off whoever was driving, and then she just stopped, her pistol still aiming at the driver's seat.

Sharon, Gerry, Milton, and myself followed her, leaving the other six staring at the mess behind the truck, “Are they dead?” asked Gerry.

“There's no one here,” answered Maria with a mix of rage and confusion.

We joined her at the front of the truck, and saw that in the driver's seat was a mass of wires, motors, and batteries. A metal arm connected the steering wheel to one of the motors.

“That's a radio control setup!” commented Adam Raven, who had come up behind us. I only know Adam from the clean-up crew; he's probably in his late thirties, maybe early forties, and he has unkempt reddish-blond hair.

“How do you know?” asked Sharon.

“In my past life, I used to love playing with RC planes, and you see that little black box taped to the back of the seat? The thing with all of the wires coming out of it?” Adam asked.

“Yeah,” replied Milton.

“That's a receiver. Besides, how else could someone have done this? Mind Control?”

“Why would someone want to send a giant radio controlled truck at us? That seems like a lot of work to just kill one or two people?” asked Maria.

“Maybe they didn't plan on it being disabled so easily?” asked Sharon.

“Wouldn't that mean that whoever was controlling it was close enough to see us?” asked Gerry.

“They'd have to be close enough to get a clear signal to the receiver, and yes, to steer it effectively, they would need to have a clear view of us,” explained Adam.

We all started looking around, as if we expected to see the person who murdered Claudia standing nearby holding a controller. Of course we saw no one. Whoever it was was probably inside a building where they could see us through a window, but we could not see them unless we knew where to look, and we didn't.

“Hey, I think there are people in here!” I heard Darius Tariq yell from behind the truck, and it was true, we could here something moving around in the back of the truck.

Before we could make any move to stop him, or even join the rest of them at the back of the truck, we heard the door start to slide open.

“Shit!” yelled Darius.

We got to the back of the truck in time to see five or six arms clutching Darius, and pulling him into the back of the truck. Darius was a big guy, but he was caught by surprise, and never had a chance to fight back before they had him. He screamed as the undead started devouring him.

After Darius disappeared into the darkness of the truck, pale undead hands groped out, grabbing at the sliding door. Even sideways, the door slid easily as the zombies pulled at it, rolling “up” into the ceiling of the back of the truck.

The light flooded into the back of the truck, revealing 20 zeds, all of which were wearing orange vests, just like us. I may never know how someone managed to dress the undead, but I can guess why.

“Oh shit! They dressed like us!” observed Milton.

Maria still had her gun in hand, and started firing into the back of the truck as the zombies started to surge at us. Four of the zeds dropped from head wounds by the time she was out of bullets; with the three that were busying themselves with Darius' now silent body that left us thirteen active zeds (no, I did not stop to count them then, I counted after)

“Shoot them or run!” ordered Maria, backing away from the truck now that her weapon was useless.

The zombies flooded out, and one of them latched on to a blond girl whose name I do not know. None of us knew her name, she was quiet and never really talked to us. Now she never will.

Biff Brown, a doofy guy with a blond buzz cut reacted instantly, he pulled his gun and fired at the zombie. His aim was nowhere near as good as his reflexes, as his shot missed the zombie completely and instead tore through the blond girl's throat. She tried to scream, but that just made blood spray out of her neck.

During all of this the roof guards never fired a shot. The official explanation is that they could not tell us from the zeds since we were all wearing orange vests, but I think I could have been able to tell the difference down my scope at that distance. Whether I could have gotten a clear shot or not is another question.

“Step back from them, and shoot!” yelled Maria, again trying to get some control on the situation. It worked somewhat. Gerry, Sharon, and I backed a way a few steps, and started taking aimed shots at the zeds.

Eventually Milton, Biff, and a couple of other followed our lead, and what started out as a chaotic mess ended without anymore casualties.

By the time security finally showed up, we had killed all the zombies, and put bullets in the heads of Darius and the blond girl before they could reanimate. We had forgotten about Claudia, and it was a member of the security force that put down her already reanimated remains. She had been trying to crawl towards us with her shattered arms, leaving a trail is glistening blood and who knows what else on the pavement like the world's most disturbing snail.

Earlier tonight, a bunch of us met in my apartment. Myself, Sharon, Alex, Gerry, and Maria all crammed in my tiny place. Alex and Sharon took the couch (of course) while Gerry and Maria sat at my kitchen table, and I leaned on the edge of the wall separating my kitchen from my living room. I don't know why we did not meet at Alex's place. His has to be at least as big as Tara's.

“So you think Kaur's behind this?” asked Sharon.

“I don't know if he is directly, but there were a number of people out there that do not like him, and it was someone who knows that we have you guys where the vests so the roof guards and security can identify you from a distance,” answered Alex.

“I still don't accept that bullshit about not being able to tell us apart,” cursed Maria.

“I thought they would take the chance to shoot us,” offered Gerry.

“It wouldn't be hard to tell us apart. The people holding guns are the humans, the people eating other people are the zombies. Not that difficult,” I said,

“ I talked to Mike, and he says that his people are saying they did not want to risk shooting any of you. Give Biff's quick-draw act, I cannot fault them for that too much,” replied Alex.

“So you don't think that Kaur, or someone under him, told them to hold their fire?”asked Maria

“I think that there are enough people on the roof who are not Kaur supporters to make it unlikely. I don't think some of those people would have even followed such and order, let alone keep quiet about it.”

“Have you had any luck in getting a meeting with the council?” asked Gerry.

“No, they're still refusing to talk to anyone. For some reason Kaur has their ears, and Kaur alone. It's really starting to fucking piss me off!”

There was a knock at my door then. The room went silent; I think we were all expecting it to be Kaur's security force coming to arrest us all for dissension or something.

After looking at each other for a few seconds, I decided that I had better answer it. When I opened the door, I found myself suddenly being yanked through it, and arms were thrown around me.

“Were you hurt?” asked Tara as she squeezed me.

“ I'm fine. What's wrong?” I managed to force out enough air to say.

“ I was off all day, and I just heard about the attack. I heard three people were killed, and I was worried about you.” she said, releasing me, but keeping her hands on my shoulders.

“ How were you that out of the loop? That was hours ago?”

She gave me a pained look then. After a moment, she hugged me again and said,” Because you're all I have.”

“I'm sorry,” I said, and I was too. I hugged her back, and even though there is nothing like that between us, it felt good. It felt the way it feels when I hug Sharon.

“ What's going-” Sharon stuck her head into the hallway, and saw Tara and I hugging,” Oh, excuse me!” she half yelled, and pulled herself back inside.

“Shit!” I cursed softly.

Tara pulled away again, this time letting me go, ”What? There's nothing going on between you too anyway.”

“There are other people in there, and she'll tell them, won't she? They'll all think we're together, including Alex,” I explained to her.

“Shit!”