July 4

Sorry 'bout that, the noise I heard was a huge rat, we'll call him dinner, running down the air duct and onto the main floor of the store.

So now, I left off with me being attacked from behind, by Trix, whilst trying to climb into a recycle bin, that held Paulo and the unfortunate lady from the parking lot.

Trix had me from behind and she was, like, trying to bite through the three Calvin Klein suits I had bundled around my torso. I threw my head back, without thinking of the implications, and head-butted her. Her long hair hung in the air, in front of her, like a comet tail, as she fell backwards. Then I was off running. I became aware of a wet spot on the back of my head, but didn't think anything of it, until I wiped at it with my hand and came back with blood on my fingers. Fuck, I thought, I must of hit her teeth with my head. In effect, I infected myself with Zombitus, or whatever you wanna call it.

Still, I ran towards the grocery store. The TCM van was still sitting there and I could hear Macy inside laughing, the smell of pot hanging in the air. I guess things were alright, in there.

From inside the Zombielot looked empty but, now, running through the fucker proved otherwise. It was like a Carnival Haunted house. I was in the cart and shit was popping out from just about everywhere. It was a new game “Hungry, Hungry, Zombies!” Heads with gnashing teeth burst out from under cars, inside cars, jutting out the windows, and from behind just about every stationary object, trash bins, signs and shopping carts.

I finally got to the side door. They must have seen me running, flailing, across the Zombielot. The door opened, just as I arrived, and a group of welcoming arms pulled me in.

It was less welcoming than I had thought, at first. The arms pulled me in and kept pulling me, until I found myself locked up in a dry storage room, with a small group of others, that I recognized from various businesses in the mall, a girl from the coffee shop, one of the guys from the jewelery store and another girl from the electronic store. Everyone looked as if the trek across the asphalt, outside, had taken it’s toll. One girl, in the corner, segregated in the already segregated group, sat in the corner, a buffer of empty seats around her. She was sitting in her chair, holding her arm. She moved and for a brief second I caught the glimpse of distinct puncture marks, teeth had perferated her forearm.

Nobody was looking at her, let alone talking to her.

"What happened?" I asked, sitting down next to her, feeling as if we were kindred spirits, now that I had a hidden bite mark on the back of my head.

She just looked at me, like..."What the fuck does it look like happened?!" But I kept her gaze and waited for an answer.

She took a breath and began. "I was running from Herbal Magic, trying to get here, when I got bit. He was around the corner and I wasn't looking, I was just running. I came around the corner and ran right into him. He was trying for my face but I threw my hands up and he caught my arm."

I looked around and saw that everyone else was listening in on the story. I had been the first to ask and so this was all new news to them.

"There were a lot of them out there." I conceded. "Too many, really. It's as if they know the area still has some life in it."

I was about to ask what was going to happen to her, when the door opened.

A small group of men, wearing blue smocks, came bustling in and grabbed her. Everyone sat where they were sitting, nobody fought or put up any type of resistance, probably because...well...what was the point? They took her and we never saw her again.

We sat in silence for, what seemed like, hours and then a blue smock came and walked us into their orientation room. On the table was a huge plastic plate with cold cuts and cheese and everyone had their own bottle of Coke. All he said to us, before closing the door, was "Enjoy."

I'd like to say that we all just nibbled on the food and sipped at our drinks but, truthfully, it had been a few days since any of us had anything more than water. The platter was gone in seconds. Everyone took a seat and we waited for whatever came next.

I know I'm paraphrasing and jumping through things but, again, I'm trying to put all this down quickly, sorry.

A guy came in, tall, blonde and pretty built, like they say...a brickhouse.

"We're in a situation." He said, matter of fact. I felt like laughing, no shit Sherlock, I thought. Sensing my mood, he focused on me. "What do you understand about our situation?" His eyes were piercing, intense.

"I'm guessing, of course. The radio went out pretty quickly and the internet's been spotty, at best." I didn't tell him about my blog but nobody would assume the internet was still viable, to be honest. News organizations haven't updated, since the beginning. The blogs have been carrying the news to the people and, even though I'm speaking to you through a blog now, they've been pretty spotty with the accuracy of their posts. "I have it on good authority, though, that it's a damned Zombie Apocalypse."

"Right." He was looking at me with a strange glint in his eye, now. My answer, I thought, must have been too brash and not what he had wanted. I had either pissed him off or brought myself to the front of the class. "Zombies. More than that, I have to say..." He began to walk around us, using his hands to speak. "...the worlds different and will never be the same again." An eyebrow went up and he looked around the room, for dissenters or anything. "We're now experiencing the final days of modern man, as we know it."

At this, I wanted to sigh. Anytime anyone mentions 'the final days' I want to physically harm them even if, as in this case, he had been making a good point.

"Believe what you want but civilization isn't what it was just a few days ago. Cell phones are down, the internet's limping, television's dead and nobody here knows anything about what's happened to their families, even though some of us only live a few blocks away." He went to the front of the room, grabbed a chair and, turning it around, sat down by straddling it. "We're all we have. You need us and we need you." He paused, for dramatic effect, I'm sure. "Normally I would propose that we work together but I think the current events have forced our hand and I don't believe we live in a democratic society anymore. We have food, you have clothing," he looked at me, "you have tools," he looked at the guy from Home Depot, "and together we need each other." A few of his Blue Smocks had entered the room behind us. He looked at them and then back at us. "I've made the decision that food trumps both clothing and tools. So, I'll be calling the shots."

He went on for a while but, honestly, you can see where this was going. Before long we were putting our hands into a hat and pulling out little pieces of paper with the jobs we were now required to fulfill, in order to bring food back to our prospective stores.

I got security. I hadn't told anyone yet about, and nobody had noticed, the blood on the back of my head.