goods from out of state and out of the country. It was close to three o'clock. If the snow was bad, the vendors would be closing up and going home. If that was the case, though, she could just get right back on the train. Paying an extra fare wouldn't really matter. So she gathered up Sam and went through the closing subway doors.
The City Hall station was big. She moved through the corridors, holding tight to Sam's hand. They found the exit and the stairs and came into the frigid air on the far side of the park, closer to the Brooklyn Bridge. The snow was coming down harder now, starting to stick to the empty pavement of Broadway. In the park, the trees and the grass were rapidly turning white. She rushed across the park to where the tents of the fair were set up. People in overcoats and wooly scarves were showing off fresh fruit and jars of honey and homemade butter. There was someone selling different varieties of bread and sausage and cheese. Martin liked those so Abby chose a few of the more inexpensive selections and paid for them. The vendor gave her a plastic bag which she stuck into the bag with her skirt.
As she moved through the fair, looking at everything, she noticed the chill getting worse and the snow getting thicker. Wall Street would have to wait for another day. It would be dusk in about an hour and she needed to get Sam home and fed. As she started for the train, her phone rang. It was Martin.
"Hello?"
"Hi, love. Close to home yet?"
"Downtown actually," she told him. "There's a street fair at City Hall."
"In this cold?"
"Yup. I got you some goodies."
She could hear him smiling. "Will they be followed by goodies ?"
Blushing, she held the phone close to her mouth. "You're a bad man, Martin."
"It's snowing pretty heavily out here," he said, changing the subject. "They're talking about closing the store so I may get out early. You should get home."
"I was thinking the same thing," she said, trailing off with the last sentence. Some of the people around her seemed to be getting frantic. The nearest vendor grabbed her by the arm and shouted something at her. She wasn't speaking English so Abby didn't understand. Only when the beefy woman started pointing and Abby turned, did it all come into focus.
"Oh, my God," she said into the phone and into the air.
"Abby?" Martin said anxiously into the phone. "Abby, what's wrong?"
"There are dozens of them, Martin. Maybe hundreds."
"What, Abby? Dozens of what? Abby! Ab…"
The call was dropped and the phone went silent in her hand. She barely noticed Sam tugging on her other arm. He was saying funny men over and over and pointing and laughing. But the men weren't all men and they were hardly funny. They were an army. An army of the undead, just marching down Broadway and absorbing anyone who was unfortunate enough to get in their path. Abby's first thought was to get to the train and away from the area. Sam would never be able to keep up with her so she scooped him up and ran. Only when she saw that everyone was running in the opposite direction did she have a second thought. The zombies were sweeping through the street like a pixel plague, covering every square inch with their foul color. When they reached the entrances to the train stations, they didn't stop. They didn't even get out of the way. Many grabbed hold of the railings and started down the stairs. Some just tumbled head over heels and disappeared from sight. Either way, the train station was hardly a safe haven.
Gathering her wits about her, Abby looked around the street. She was almost as afraid of the crowd of panicking people as she was of the zombies. All at once, she was back in the Bronx, sweaty frightened men dragging her forward toward the fighting arena's exit. The whole episode had been completely out of her control. But then she was back in the center of the park, most of the people having scattered. The zombies,
The City Hall station was big. She moved through the corridors, holding tight to Sam's hand. They found the exit and the stairs and came into the frigid air on the far side of the park, closer to the Brooklyn Bridge. The snow was coming down harder now, starting to stick to the empty pavement of Broadway. In the park, the trees and the grass were rapidly turning white. She rushed across the park to where the tents of the fair were set up. People in overcoats and wooly scarves were showing off fresh fruit and jars of honey and homemade butter. There was someone selling different varieties of bread and sausage and cheese. Martin liked those so Abby chose a few of the more inexpensive selections and paid for them. The vendor gave her a plastic bag which she stuck into the bag with her skirt.
As she moved through the fair, looking at everything, she noticed the chill getting worse and the snow getting thicker. Wall Street would have to wait for another day. It would be dusk in about an hour and she needed to get Sam home and fed. As she started for the train, her phone rang. It was Martin.
"Hello?"
"Hi, love. Close to home yet?"
"Downtown actually," she told him. "There's a street fair at City Hall."
"In this cold?"
"Yup. I got you some goodies."
She could hear him smiling. "Will they be followed by goodies ?"
Blushing, she held the phone close to her mouth. "You're a bad man, Martin."
"It's snowing pretty heavily out here," he said, changing the subject. "They're talking about closing the store so I may get out early. You should get home."
"I was thinking the same thing," she said, trailing off with the last sentence. Some of the people around her seemed to be getting frantic. The nearest vendor grabbed her by the arm and shouted something at her. She wasn't speaking English so Abby didn't understand. Only when the beefy woman started pointing and Abby turned, did it all come into focus.
"Oh, my God," she said into the phone and into the air.
"Abby?" Martin said anxiously into the phone. "Abby, what's wrong?"
"There are dozens of them, Martin. Maybe hundreds."
"What, Abby? Dozens of what? Abby! Ab…"
The call was dropped and the phone went silent in her hand. She barely noticed Sam tugging on her other arm. He was saying funny men over and over and pointing and laughing. But the men weren't all men and they were hardly funny. They were an army. An army of the undead, just marching down Broadway and absorbing anyone who was unfortunate enough to get in their path. Abby's first thought was to get to the train and away from the area. Sam would never be able to keep up with her so she scooped him up and ran. Only when she saw that everyone was running in the opposite direction did she have a second thought. The zombies were sweeping through the street like a pixel plague, covering every square inch with their foul color. When they reached the entrances to the train stations, they didn't stop. They didn't even get out of the way. Many grabbed hold of the railings and started down the stairs. Some just tumbled head over heels and disappeared from sight. Either way, the train station was hardly a safe haven.
Gathering her wits about her, Abby looked around the street. She was almost as afraid of the crowd of panicking people as she was of the zombies. All at once, she was back in the Bronx, sweaty frightened men dragging her forward toward the fighting arena's exit. The whole episode had been completely out of her control. But then she was back in the center of the park, most of the people having scattered. The zombies,
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