Zombie Fallout by Mark Tufo Read Free Book Online Page A

considering it was a pump action shotgun. The closest zombie lay in a heap; what was left of him wouldn’t feed a runway model. His backup, however, had swelled to around twenty, the first group was about sixty yards away and the second group had just come around the corner. We were about to have one humdinger of a get together. Justin was halfway down the ladder when I swung my attention back to him. I looked past him to notice the fat kid with the Butterfinger gun peering cautiously over the edge. I wanted to get Justin down and just plain haul ass out of here. But I couldn’t do it.
    “Wait till Justin gets off the ladder, then swing your legs down. We’ll hold it steady,” I yelled. Justin looked up to see who I was talking to.
    “Tommy!” Justin yelled. “You can do it.”
    “They’re up here Justin, they just killed Bill. I…I guess that means we won’t have to come in to work tomorrow,” Tommy said. His eyes had that hollowed out look I was growing to know so well.
    Justin had finally hit terra firma.
    “Justin, you’ve got thirty seconds to convince your fat friend to get his ass down here or we’re leaving,” I whispered harshly.
    Tracy beeped the horn again.
    I turned viciously. “Do you think that’s helping?” I barked. She wanted out and so did I, but I wasn’t leaving the big kid unless I had to, although I think we had passed that point a minute ago.
    “Tommy!” Justin called. “Come on man, there’s no time to figure it out, they’re up there, let’s go.”
    Bill’s distant screams finally subsided, and I don’t think it was because he got away. That steeled Tommy’s resolve. He began to swing his huge bulk over the edge, still gripping the pellet gun. Images of the little girl clutching her doll welled up inside me.
    “Let go of the pellet gun, Tommy!” I snapped, more for me than him in all likelihood. “It isn’t going to do you any good down here and you’re going to need both hands to hold onto the ladder.”
    I didn’t think anybody but the man of steel himself was going to be able to stop that bulk once it got in motion. The more I began to think it through the less I liked the idea. The odds were good that Justin and I were about to become human pancakes, sandwiched under the enormous bulk of Tommy. I was about to grab Justin and have him abandon his post, no sense in both of us dying in this vain attempt, when the ladder vibrated slightly. I looked up. Tommy had grabbed the first rung and was beginning his descent. ‘Holy Crap’ was all I could mutter. My amazement was short-lived however. The zombies that broke through the door on the roof were looking over the edge. I wanted to shout at them triumphantly that they had lost, ‘no more dinner for you, nyah nyah nyah,’ when the first of them simply walked off the roof, followed by a second and a third and then a half dozen. The snapping of multiple bones ricocheted off the Wal-Mart wall, sounding like small arms fire. It was deafening. It was sickening.
    Tommy made it down the ladder and the three of us just stared at the horror that was unfolding in front of us. Most of the zombies had landed on legs that were now shattered beyond any use. Some had ended in a swan dive, never to rise again. The ones with the shattered legs and spinal columns started to pull themselves along with their arms or used their chins on the ground in a vain attempt to move. Whatever locomotion was available to them they used to try to get to us. It was like watching the ‘Terminator.’ Sadly, we were the Sarah Connors in this remake. Tracy’s horn blared again. Travis had finished reloading and was firing again. Our reverie broken, we ran for the car.
    “Get in!” I yelled, as if anyone needed the instruction.
    Tracy scooted over so I could drive. Tommy’s enormous bulk ended up on the hump seat in the back; he looked like a huge bowling bowl, and my boys unhappily looked like two bowling pins pushed up against the