to the gate and parked in front of it as the other vehicles pulled up behind him. Gus leapt out of the passenger door with Carl’s bolt cutters and made short work of the lock, swinging the gate open to allow Carl and the rest of the convoy to pass. As soon as the fire engine passed through the gate Gus swung it closed again and attached a new lock. When the dust along the train tracks settled, the horde of pursuing zombies appeared. There were hundreds of them running towards the gate. Gus turned and ran back to the fire truck, which had stopped and was training its water canon on the approaching horde. The fireman waited until the first zombies were smashing into the gate, then he unleashed a torrent of water against them, throwing the zombies back in fear and agony. He shut down the canon to conserve water and proceeded to release short blasts of water to keep them back.
Carl led the rest of the convoy down the service road behind the shopping center, stopping next to the rear entrance of the supermarket. The area appeared to be free of zombies, so he stepped out of the Suburban with his shotgun in hand and directed the eighteen wheel big rig to back its trailer up to the loading dock. The shuttle bus opened its door and half a dozen armed men emerged, making their way swiftly to the back door of the supermarket. It took less than a minute for them force entry with crowbars. The interior of the stock room was dark and seemingly deserted, but they didn’t take any chances. The six armed men swept the room in teams of two while Carl tried to open the roll-up doors. With the power out it was necessary to disengage the motor and use the chain to roll it up, but first he had to bust the locking mechanism. Once that was accomplished, he rolled up the door and shed more light on the enormous room. Carl let out a low whistle at the sight of all the crates and boxes of food stocked in it.
“Let’s start packing it up,” he instructed. “Look for cases of canned food and bottled drinks first, those will last. Check the crates of unrefrigerated produce over there. It’s only been about a week, so most of those fruits and some vegetables should still be good. I see a couple of pallet jacks over there. Use them to start moving full pallets into the trailer. Don’t be too selective. Grab anything that looks edible.”
“Good plan, Carl,” said Chuck who had joined them on the loading dock. “You heard the man, let’s move.” The refinery workers scrambled to follow their instructions and began sorting and loading the stacks of supplies.
“Frank, bring a few men with shotguns and follow me,” said Carl, knowing that he could now exercise some authority over these men, after all of his plans had worked out so well for everyone.
“Comin’ Boss,” replied Frank, a heavyset black man with a kind but serious demeanor. “Luke, Joey, and Boomer, you’re with us.” The four oilmen followed Carl to the closed doors leading into the public area of the supermarket. “You want to sweep the rest of the store?” Frank asked.
“Maybe,” Carl answered. “We should at least see if it’s secure from entry out front, and if there are any zombies inside.”
“Makes sense,” Frank agreed. “Get ready boys, no telling what’s on the other side of these doors.” He turned to unlock the double doors. There was no key required from the stockroom side. He turned the lock and swung the door outward, into the supermarket. The doors swung less than a foot before something blocked their path.
“Hold it,” said Carl as he moved forward and bent down to inspect the obstacle. “It’s a body,” he announced. They could all smell the stink of decay now and Carl’s announcement confirmed that it wasn’t just spoiled fish and hamburger meat. “I see a lot of blood on the floor too,” Carl continued. “Maybe we shouldn’t…” SLAM! The doors
Carl led the rest of the convoy down the service road behind the shopping center, stopping next to the rear entrance of the supermarket. The area appeared to be free of zombies, so he stepped out of the Suburban with his shotgun in hand and directed the eighteen wheel big rig to back its trailer up to the loading dock. The shuttle bus opened its door and half a dozen armed men emerged, making their way swiftly to the back door of the supermarket. It took less than a minute for them force entry with crowbars. The interior of the stock room was dark and seemingly deserted, but they didn’t take any chances. The six armed men swept the room in teams of two while Carl tried to open the roll-up doors. With the power out it was necessary to disengage the motor and use the chain to roll it up, but first he had to bust the locking mechanism. Once that was accomplished, he rolled up the door and shed more light on the enormous room. Carl let out a low whistle at the sight of all the crates and boxes of food stocked in it.
“Let’s start packing it up,” he instructed. “Look for cases of canned food and bottled drinks first, those will last. Check the crates of unrefrigerated produce over there. It’s only been about a week, so most of those fruits and some vegetables should still be good. I see a couple of pallet jacks over there. Use them to start moving full pallets into the trailer. Don’t be too selective. Grab anything that looks edible.”
“Good plan, Carl,” said Chuck who had joined them on the loading dock. “You heard the man, let’s move.” The refinery workers scrambled to follow their instructions and began sorting and loading the stacks of supplies.
“Frank, bring a few men with shotguns and follow me,” said Carl, knowing that he could now exercise some authority over these men, after all of his plans had worked out so well for everyone.
“Comin’ Boss,” replied Frank, a heavyset black man with a kind but serious demeanor. “Luke, Joey, and Boomer, you’re with us.” The four oilmen followed Carl to the closed doors leading into the public area of the supermarket. “You want to sweep the rest of the store?” Frank asked.
“Maybe,” Carl answered. “We should at least see if it’s secure from entry out front, and if there are any zombies inside.”
“Makes sense,” Frank agreed. “Get ready boys, no telling what’s on the other side of these doors.” He turned to unlock the double doors. There was no key required from the stockroom side. He turned the lock and swung the door outward, into the supermarket. The doors swung less than a foot before something blocked their path.
“Hold it,” said Carl as he moved forward and bent down to inspect the obstacle. “It’s a body,” he announced. They could all smell the stink of decay now and Carl’s announcement confirmed that it wasn’t just spoiled fish and hamburger meat. “I see a lot of blood on the floor too,” Carl continued. “Maybe we shouldn’t…” SLAM! The doors
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