Rotter Apocalypse Read Free Page B

paralyze him with fear. He felt himself clenching his bladder and sphincter, and his thinking becoming frenzied. Just as Simmons felt his nerves about to give way, he broke through the outer perimeter of living dead and into an empty portion of the parking lot, heading toward the exit.
    When Simmons glanced in his side mirrors, he could see the mass converging on him. He slowed his speed enough for them to keep up with but not catch him. The seconds dragged by like minutes as he passed through the exit and turned left onto the main road, leading the rotters out of the area. Eventually, Super Walmart or Robson’s other two vehicles disappeared from view. With only the mass of living dead following close behind, Simmons felt like he was some sort of demonic Pied Piper.
     
    *  *  *
     
    It took almost an hour for Simmons to clear the rotters out of the parking lot. Robson waited an extra ten minutes to make sure the horde was far enough away before starting the Ryder. He headed around back, with Dravko close behind him. When they pulled behind the building, Robson saw half a dozen rotters milling around the back lot, stragglers that had not followed the main herd. Nothing they couldn’t handle. When they cruised along the rear façade, the few living dead shambled toward them.
    The rear entrance was located in the center of the building, fifteen feet from the loading dock. A military-style Humvee in camouflage paint was parked diagonally between the two. Its doors had been left open. A body lay on the pavement near the vehicle with an M-16A2 automatic rifle resting nearby. As the headlights illuminated it, Robson noticed the body had been picked clean of flesh and muscles except for some residual chunks of tissue attached to the shoulders and skull. Its head fell to the side and its jaws snapped at the air.
    “Looks like someone had the same idea you did,” said Linda from the passenger seat.
    “We’ll have better luck.” Robson maneuvered around the military Humvee and backed the Ryder into the loading dock. When he felt the truck’s rear thump against the rubber bumpers, he shifted into park and shut down the engine. “Let’s go.”
    Dravko had parked close to the entrance. While Tibor checked the door, DeWitt and Roberta fanned out, neutralizing the few rotters with head shots. Robson joined the vampires by the door.
    “Can we get in?” he asked.
    “It’s locked,” responded Tibor. “I can break it, though.”
    “Go ahead.”
    Tibor pulled on the handle, the muscles along his neck and shoulders straining. The steel around the jamb groaned under the pressure until the deadbolt snapped. He opened the door and smirked. “After you.”
    Slipping on his night vision goggles, Robson raised his Atchisson AA-12 assault shotgun, an automatic version of a shotgun that held twenty rounds in a drum magazine, and stepped into the storage room. He scanned the area from right to left, and saw no signs of danger. Pushing the goggles onto his forehead, he motioned for the others to follow. One by one they entered and switched on their flashlights, each checking out the area for themselves. Tibor entered last, closing the door behind him, sliding a broom through the handle, and resting it against the jamb.
    Robson stepped over to the double doors leading onto the main floor and motioned to the others. “Douse the lights.”
    When the storage room went dark, Robson slid the goggles back over his eyes and pushed open one of the swinging double doors leading onto the main floor. He half expected to be greeted by a wall of the living dead. Instead, everything seemed normal. No signs of movement. Not even any indication that the store had been looted. From this vantage point, it appeared as though the place had been closed prior to the outbreak and never visited again.
    Robson stepped back into the storage room and pushed the goggles up onto his forehead. “You can turn the flashlights back on.”
    As their glare lit up the