Zombie Fallout 9 by Mark Tufo Page A

happened. My quick take on it was that the zombies had trapped a decent number of people in this room and had devoured them at their leisure, holding on to the people like stored food products to only be eaten in times of need. When they’d begun to run low on stores, the majority had chosen to go to sleep while those still awake finished off what was left.
    The rifle chattered in my hands as I just kept firing. The zombies had spun and were coming at me. I’d taken down six of them before I had to go back out the way I’d come. The stasis pile shifted as they awoke to face this new threat and potential new food source. BT was in the front door before the storeroom door could completely close.
    â€œTell me, Mike!” he shouted, scanning for threats, approaching me at a decent clip but always aware, the rifle looking like a toy up against his shoulder.
    â€œZombies … holding prisoners.” I gulped.
    He didn’t say anything. If he had questions, he would save them for later, as the knob to the storeroom twisted and nightmares came free. Between the two of us, we were able to push them back with a curtain of lead. A zombie that had fallen and was keeping the door from shutting properly was yanked back inside. We were once again left in the relatively unscathed store, although it now was not as pristine as it had been.
    â€œWhat the fuck, Mike?” He had not pulled his gun down yet. “We need to get out of here.”
    â€œThere are people in there.”
    â€œIn there? Are you sure?” We heard screams as if to punctuate his question. First, the high-pitched shriek of a woman, and then, the much deeper cries of a man. “We need to get them!” He moved forward.
    â€œIt’s too late.” Even when I walked into the store, it had been too late. Their vacant eyes as they stared up at me had told me all I needed to know. They’d checked out from this life a while back, perhaps with the loss of their son. Maybe even longer. “It’s a trap, they’re killing them hoping we’ll go in and help.”
    â€œWe gotta go then.” BT lightly tapped my shoulder, and we tactically withdrew. Ron was sitting in the driver’s seat. We jumped in, and he sped off, I mean as fast as a bug will go, anyway. I looked back, and three zombies were outside the door watching our departure.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Ron kept looking in the rearview mirror at me. I was furiously wiping my hands and face with the baby wipes. If I could have peeled back my skull and wiped my brain clean, I would have done that as well.
    I wasn’t sure at first, not completely anyway, and then it sprung on me. Fitting, it should happen that way. I let them know what I was thinking. “The store, the fucking store was a trap. A human lure.”
    â€œAre you kidding?” Ron kept glancing up in the mirror, maybe to see if I was indeed crazy or had slipped over the edge.
    â€œThey were holding three people hostage when I went in the backroom, had them backed up against the wall. Not fattening them up before the slaughter, but definitely waiting to butcher and eat them. Had to have already done it to dozens, if not a hundred or more, people.”
    â€œYou said you found them? Why didn’t they find you then?” I understood why Ron was questioning me. None of us wanted to believe the zombies were capable of this level of sophistication.
    I didn’t know why at first. Why make a trap if you weren’t going to use it? “The bell, the fucking bell.” I said aloud when the image came back to me.
    â€œThings ringing in your head Mike?” BT asked.
    â€œYou know those little notification bells they have?”
    He nodded.
    â€œIt was on the floor. Their signal was broken, and either they didn’t know it or they didn’t know how to fix it.”
    â€œSaved by the bell.” BT said.
    â€œDid you really just say that?”
    He smiled a