Human Extinction Level Loss (Book 1): Nicole's Odyssey by Philip A. McClimon Page B

highly flammable.  She placed the butane lighter on the cart between her knees.  On the cart in front of hers, Sam waited for the signal.  He had his ax handle he would use to reach out and open the receiving bay door.  A tremendous crash from the front of the store was met almost simultaneously with a crash from the other set of doors by the greenhouse area.  The glass doors caved in and the Dead rushed forward. 
    “Now, Sam!” Nicole screamed. 
    Sam stuck his ax handle out of the front of the cart and pushed the Open button on the bay door.  He withdrew the ax handle back under the curtains and waited.  Sam and Nicole remained still under the curtains as the Dead surged in.  The first wave rushed past, knocking and bumping the carts.  The Dead from all sides surged into the breaches around the store, searching for the meal they sensed was there.  Under her curtain, Nicole fought back the urge to cry and waited for the bulk of the Dead to pass them.  She was about to give the signal to Sam, when three of the Dead became focused on her cart.  She could see their shadows through the curtain.  They circled the cart.  Leaning in, they sniffed at it.  Nicole could hear their wheezing and she almost wretched from the smell.  She could hear the Dead now moving throughout the store.  It would only be minutes before they discovered them.  Even if by sheer accident, she knew they would be discovered eventually.  Their window of opportunity was small and closing.  The sights, sounds, and smells of what was occurring threatened to overwhelm Nicole.  Her breathing lost its rhythm and she began to hyperventilate.  She broke out into a cold sweat and tunnel vision set in, as her mind screamed for her to get out of there, to run as fast as she could.  She grasped at the curtains and was about to rip them away when another voice screamed in her head, louder than her panic, more commanding than her fear.  It was not the voice she heard at Friendly’s or her own voice, but the voice of her father.  As a child, she had watched her father drill recruits in survival training.  It had perhaps been only once and she had not recalled it since, but now his voice cut through the fear and calmed her.
     
    DECIDE TO SURVIVE!  SIZE UP YOUR SITUATION! USE ALL YOUR SENSES! VANQUISH FEAR AND PANIC! IMPROVISE AND IMPROVE! VALUE LIVING! ACT LIKE THE NATIVES! LIVE BY YOUR TRAINING!
     
    A resolve formed in her mind and her nerves steadied. Nicole let go of the curtain.  She slowed her breathing and focused on a spot in front of her.  After what seemed an eternity, the three Dead lost interest and shuffled on deeper into the store.  She would survive.  She knew what she had to do.
    “Now, Sam.  Now,” Nicole whispered.  She peeked through the curtain and watched Sam begin to push out through the bay door. 
    Nicole tipped over one of the gas cans, spilling the fuel in a trail behind her, as she began to push.
     
    They had gone fifty yards.  Nicole’s arms burned and she struggled to keep her breath as she and Sam rounded the first corner.  The chain link fence that had formed the outer perimeter of the greenhouse area lay trampled.  Many of the Dead who lined the sidewall had followed the others storming through the back and front.  Several still struggled against the wall trying to get in, blind to everything but their hunger.  Their gore coated the length of the wall, a finger-painted mural of viscera.  The wall above their hellish clamoring artwork remained untouched, a fit commentary.  There were only the Dead, the Living and a thin line between them.  Still on the living side of that line, Sam and Nicole pushed past, inch by precious inch.  Nicole peered out through a slit in the curtains and tried to keep her cart moving in a straight line.  The way was long and tough enough already, there was no use in making it longer by meandering.  She could not see out the sides, and for that she was grateful.  Was