A car alarm shrieked to life somewhere in the parking lot.
The sudden wail made me jerk upright. “What the hell?—”
The alarm continued to scream, echoing through the empty store.
Ben pushed himself away from the wall. “That’s close.”
Adrian was already moving. He stepped onto the crate beside the door and leaned toward the narrow window above it.
For a few seconds, he didn’t say anything. None of us did.
Then he stepped down. “That’s going to be a problem.”
“No shit.” Ben took his turn peering out the window.
“Every infected person in the area is going to head in this direction.” Adrian rubbed his forehead.
My stomach dropped.
The sound kept blaring.
Loud.
Endless.
Then something slammed into the other side of the door.
Hard.
The metal rattled.
There must have been a horde of them, because the car wedged against the door began to shift.
Ben stepped down, “They’re pushing against it.”
Another body hit the door, and the metal groaned.
“The alarm’s ringing the dinner bell.” I tightened my grip on the pistol.
Adrian grabbed the shelf beside him as he swayed slightly.
“You good?” I asked in concern.
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he pressed two fingers to his forehead as if trying to relieve the pressure.
“Headache,” he said finally. “Nothing significant.”
I wasn’t buying it. “You look like hell.”
He ignored that and climbed back onto the crate to check the window again.
When he stepped down this time, he staggered.
Just the slightest bit.
But I saw it.
