Dead Life by D. Harrison Schleicher

I saw in them?  Did she want me to help her by killing her?  Was she in pain?  Did she even know who I was anymore?  I thought what the hell.  She was already dead.  I’d be doing her a favor.  I shot her too.
                  I had to find Gina.  I just hoped she wasn’t a zombie too.  I didn’t know if I could shoot her.  I had my doubts. 
                  My phone rang again.
                  “What?”  I screamed into the phone.
                  “You were supposed to call me right back!”  Marty whined.
                  “I’ve been a little busy.”
                  “Well, since I couldn’t reach you, I tried calling the police.  I kept getting a recording that says all circuits are busy.”
                  “That doesn’t surprise me.”
                  “What’s going on out there?”
                  “The security guards and Mary Simms are dead.  And I can’t find Gina.”
                  “Who’s Gina?”
                  “She works in the bakery.  I’m pretty sure she’s here somewhere.  I found her purse.”
                  “Did you try calling her on the intercom?”
                  “Oh, no.  I didn’t even think of that.  I’ll talk to you later.  And don’t call me again.  Wait until I call you.”
                  “Wait!  Are you going to call the police or should I ?”
                  “You just keep trying.”
                  I hung up. I should have told him what was going on but I didn’t have time for all the questions he would have had.  Besides, he’d figure it out sooner or later.  Right now all I cared about was finding Gina.  I went back down to the receiving desk and got on the intercom. 
                  “Gina Johnson, you’re taxi’s here.  Please come to the front of the store.”
                  I felt relief when I heard someone coming down the aisle and the person was crying.  That had to be a good sign of humanity.  I looked to the left and there stood a little girl.  Her long blond curly hair was all matted with blood and her dress was shredded in places.  She must have been in the restroom this whole time.  I gripped my gun and asked her, “Where’s your mom little girl?”
                  She just kept looking at me.  What was that she was clutching in her hand?  Oh God.  It looked like someone’s heart.  The crying turned into moaning.  She began shuffling towards me while lifting the organ to her mouth.  Her eyes never left mine.  It was the hardest decision I had to make so far but I pointed my gun at her head and pulled the trigger.
                  Where in the hell was Gina?  And who did that heart belong to?