“I think I’m going to be sick,” I tell Zan.
“Hurry. We must hurry. Lily, we do not have time for you to be sick right now.”
“It’s like he made zombies.”
“Move,” Zan says, and he pulls me out of the line of slowly staggering zombie shoppers into the closest empty aisle.
“Climb, climb,” he says.
And I do. I follow his lead, climbing up to the top as fast as I can.
There’s one full bin on the second shelf, and a sign says “Wall Anchors: Prevent child injury or death” with a warning cartoon that illustrates just what can happen if a wardrobe is left unanchored.
My heart pounds against my chest, and I hope with everything in me, as the shelving shakes with Zan’s heavier alien body climbing it, that these racks and shelves are bolted into the floor.
I don’t know how he’s managing it with his hurt wing, but when I look back at him, he’s climbing steadily and quickly, much more quickly than me. Reaching the top well before I make it to the third shelf.
The lumbering corpses stagger into the aisle as my foot moves just out of their reach.
“Take my hand,” Zan says.
I don’t bother arguing. I do exactly what he asks, and he swings me up onto the top.
My shin bangs against the rail, a zombie swiping for my foot.
“This is actually hell,” I say surprised at how even my voice comes out. It’s absolutely shaking, but the words aren’t completely garbled.
A win is a win.
“Someone really needs to intervene with Ken,” I tack on, trying to keep my tone light as we stare at the mass of writhing bodies below us.
They’re completely silent, other than the sound of their skin hitting each other.
“I don’t know what they’re doing, but I don’t like the looks of it,” I tell Zan. “We need to move.”
He nods.
“How?” I say, staring at the widely spaced shelving. “There’s at least ten more rows until we get to the flat-pack we need.”
“We can jump,” he says. “I can get us enough air that we can bridge the distance easily.”
“No way. I am not risking your wing completely.”
“It’s either that or them.”
We both look back down at the zombie creatures.
I stagger backwards, a hand to my mouth in disgust. “They’re making a human ladder.”
There’s horror in my voice, and Zan nods. “I do not think what they are doing is human, but if you say so.”
I don’t even have the ability to correct him, and when he scoops me up into his arms, preparing to jump, I’m so terrified at what is happening on the floor beneath us that I don’t even bother bringing up his hurt wing again.
Everything in my brain is screaming to get away from whatever Ken has done to those people as fast as we can.
I'm not even sure they're people anymore.
CHAPTER
