Don't Dare Call Them Zombies : Books 1-4 Read Online Free PDF Page A

were done, they should find every battery and flashlight in the store and take them there. We would need the light. Jill’s job would be to gather some hot food from the deli and take it to the break room for everyone. Even in a zombie . . . well . . . “freak” apocalypse, people have to eat.
    I distributed other tasks as well. We needed someone to search for weapons we could use just in case the freaks got inside, someone that would constantly watch the television in case there was news, and someone to cover Fred’s body on aisle 13.
    Giving orders was not what I was used to doing. I was much better at following them. However, for the most part, employees and customers alike followed my suggestions. Everyone who was given a task went off to do what I had instructed. Almost everyone else stayed in the break room watching the television.
    I quietly told the man and his wife who just entered the store to follow me. I guided them into the meat department and then explained the situation.
    “They have said on the news that those things out there are infected with some type of disease or virus. It’s supposed to be contagious. I can see your wife has been bitten. I won’t say anything to anyone about it, but we need to clean that wound, immediately,” I said.
    The woman clutched her daughter as she looked up at her husband desperately. “I can’t be infected. I just can’t be. He must be wrong!”
    “I hope I am,” I said, very honestly.
    I reached into Mr. Allen’s desk and pulled out a bottle of peroxide and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.
    “Try to get a s much of this into the wound as possible. Hopefully, it will prevent her from catching whatever they have. But if she starts to seem sick, please tell me immediately,” I instructed.
    The husband had his wife sit in a chair. I saw the bite on her leg. It wa s not severe, no huge chunk of flesh was missing, but some freak’s teeth had indeed pierced her skin. Before he actually poured on the peroxide I left the room, not wanting see her in pain.
    I then walked around the store trying to figure out my next move. I had watched a lot of zombie movies in my life; now the fictional nightmares they presented had turned into reality. My mind raced as tried to come up with the next part of my plan.
    I was walking past the flower shop when I saw the door to the stairwell that led to the roof.
    Instantly, I walked towards it. I ignored the “do not open” sign, and opened the door quickly, propping it open with a box. I climbed the stairs until I reached a hatch that led to the roof. It was difficult to open, since it was onl y used when the roof needed repairs, or when the air conditioners required service. After some tugging and pushing, I finally opened it up and pulled myself onto the roof of the store.
    It was still daylight, but in a few hours night would fall. Carefully w alking on the almost flat roof, I tried to get an idea of my surroundings. Behind the store, near our dumpsters, there were only a couple of the freaks lurking around. They hobbled slowly in what seemed like a state of confusion. In front of the store, however there were a couple of dozen of the freaks wandering around in the parking lot. Thankfully, most of them had given up on trying to break into the store. Only a couple was pressing their faces against the glass doors and windows.
    On either side of the store there were woods, and a few shops and stores were present on the opposite side of the road. One of them the barber shop where I often went to get my hair cut. Squinting, I could just barely make out someone peering out of its front window.
    Could th at be Jennifer?
    I was trying to get a better look at the shop when I saw the curtains move to the side, and a sign appear in the window.
    “HELP,” was the only word displayed.
    Whoever it was inside the barbershop had seen me on the roof. The sign vanished and I could see a figure in the window waving at me.
    If that was Jennifer, or any