“Grab anything you can find.”
We chucked the cans in one by one.
“Toss, don’t throw.”
“’Kay.”
A single firearm wouldn’t do much against an entire swarm of zombies, but it sure was nice to have one by my side, even if just for the false sense of security. I mean, between the snubby five-centimeter barrel and the five-chamber cylinder, I didn’t see myself landing a good deal of my shots. Still, it was reassuring to know that I could avoid having to engage zombies at point-blank range, where any minor miscalculation might lead to my untimely demise, so long as I had this baby here to protect me.
Going in guns blazing, though? Not a good idea by any stretch of the imagination. As fun as it’d be to bust out some bullets, I still wasn’t over the whole “killing humans” thing, and I had no reason to believe that’d change somewhere down the line. I feared I’d lose an integral part of my own humanity if I did ever get to that point. Oh, and the loud-ass gunshots were also a huge issue, which was why I had a crowbar on me too.
It’s good to have a backup plan in case Otoha needs help, and I don’t wanna attract every zombie in the goddamn neighborhood.
“This won’t cut it,” she whispered. “Time for another raid.”
“You sure?”
The shelves were suspiciously empty, but we had managed to score over 20 cans. I figured they’d last us a decent while, at least.
“Very. Now let’s get going.”
Should’ve known better than to question the shot-caller.
“Lead the way.”
Just as we were about to head out, a shadow materialized right behind Otoha.
“Hah!” She instinctively turned around and swung down her shovel, which got lodged in one of the shelves.
For Pete’s sake, man, you should assume there’s a zombie lurking around every corner! Otherwise, you end up in a situation like this where one just crawls underneath the shelf as soon as you aren’t looking. How do you not put two and two together?! If there are multiple zombies “stocking” shelves down on the first floor, obviously there might be at least one doing the exact same thing on the second. Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out!
“Otoha!” At that moment, my body took over.
Whether it was the killer reflexes I’d developed through years of FPS gaming or something else entirely, I had my finger pressing down on the trigger before I even realized it.
The gunshot echoed throughout the entire store.
I watched as the bullet nailed the zombie right under its nose, causing its head to violently snap backward. Its fingers twitched and clenched in the air, and then it collapsed to the floor.
“I did it!”
This was the first time I had ever fired a gun.
Went pretty well, I’d say. Although my trigger control was a bit off, now that I think about it. To be fair, the trigger pull on double-action revolvers is long and deliberate, so maybe I shouldn’t beat myself up about it too much. If anything, I should pat myself on the back for managing to reproduce a proper firing grip under those circumstances.
Aiming for the cerebrum was the best bet I had in that situation. I ended up being just off the mark, but I’d luckily managed to hit its cervical spine, instantly disabling the thing’s nervous system. Had the bullet trajectory dipped any lower, it would not have been pretty.
“Bow before me, mortals!” I cried, striking a heroic pose.
Otoha didn’t seem to find it nearly as epic. “I thought I told you—”
“Spare me the nagging.”
If I hadn’t taken the shot, she would’ve been bitten or maybe even worse. However, I had to admit that my heroic act came at the cost of alerting every last zombie in the building.
“I say we hightail it out of here.” I grabbed Otoha’s hand and pulled her toward the escalator.
The zombies were going to come flooding up from the stairs, so our only escape route was the dreaded escalator. Well, at least it was close to the entrance.
“Hey, Hiroaki...” she whispered in a sickly sweet voice.
“Otoha? Is something wro—” I turned around, only to see a pair of puppy-dog eyes staring up at me.
“Thanks for saving me back there.”
“Erm, don’t mention it.” My heart began drumming hard against my ribcage, threatening to break free.
Curse you, Otoha! How am I supposed to focus on the matter at hand when you’re over here pulling the “stoic type gets all melty” card on me! With great power comes great responsibility!
“Yikes.” I knew I’d lured them in, but I never expected there to be this many crammed into one place. “Where are they all coming from?!”
If we trip on the escalator steps, it’s game over. You can do this, just take it nice and e—
“Hiyah.” With an endearingly monotone shout, Otoha kicked a stray shopping cart straight toward the zombie horde. It knocked one of them over, which then toppled the others like a bunch of bowling pins.
“Annnd strike! Nice one.”
“All in a day’s work.” The corners of her lips raised very slightly in what could be contextually deduced to be a smirk.
Don’t give in. Keep your head in the game.
“I have an idea, but I need you to trust me!” I shouted.
“Why do I have a bad feeling about thi—”
Without waiting for her to finish, I picked her up and slid down the handrail. Why? Because it was an action movie staple, of course. Also, how often would I get to do this in public without some manager screaming in my ear immediately after?