An hour, fifteen more kills, and one tense stint hiding up a tree later, she crouched on an overpass, peering down at a neat strip of stores. Many bore real world names and familiar facades, “product placement and advertising at its finest,” she mused. The ramp down was quiet, her pace slowed to a ghosting walk.

  “I don’t have my Costco card,” she muttered with a snicker, eyes narrowing as she sighted her first target store, “but I think they’ll let me in.”

  With a whisper, she sent Goo sweeping the parked cars for threats. “Nothing to report,” his voice murmured in her ear.

  She slid between rows of faded metal and sun bleached glass, the spear balanced loosely in her grip. The side door ahead was propped open by a skeleton’s rib cage, ribs jutting like a grotesque doorstop. Mav leaned against the wall, eyes narrowed. “Go in blind and risk a trap? Respawn back in Tomsville? No thanks.”

  “Go in blind and risk a trap? Respawn back in Tomsville? No thanks.” She said quietly, “Goo, recon inside for me?”

  “I’m sorry, Mav. Green Belt parameters forbid scanning interiors until forty percent of the structure is explored by hand.” He drifted above her, weaving slowly like a patient pendulum.

  Her teeth worried her lower lip while her eyes swept the lot for an angle. Mostly cars, some sun baked service bots slumped in standby. One overturned truck in the far corner caught her attention, its upturned flank pressed against a transport trailer. Black scorch down the side, a small crater gouged in the asphalt. ‘Explosion?’ She slung her spear against the undercarriage and climbed up.

  The cab smelled of old dust and scorched fabric. She wiped the dash clean with her palm, there, a faint blink on the console. The electric engine still had life.

  Dropping down, she circled to the roof. The truck’s solar panels were shattered, but the trailer’s? Intact. One unbroken expanse of collector surface, untouched by whatever blast had hit. Her gaze tracked from that roof to the front door of the store. Nearly a straight shot, only two cars in the way. The corner of her mouth tugged upward. “This could work.”

  Jogging to the first obstruction, she popped it into neutral and shoved until it rolled clear. Same for the second. Then back to the trailer. The incline was steep, metal warm under her boots as she climbed to the side of the overturned truck and knelt by the control panel.

  A flick of her wrist brought the dead display to life; she swiped away a warning screen. One button stood out, Large Diameter. She popped the service hatches and feeder slide, lashing them open with twine scavenged from the cab.

  Her pistol felt lighter without the silencer she had just removed as she trotted to the store entrance, pressed to one of the thick pillars. Peeking around she saw two zeds inside, wandering lazy circles. She stepped out and they froze. She lifted the gun, lined up the sights, and… crack. The second shot chased the first, echoing hard off the fa?ade.

  The moans came immediately, a ripple of movement deeper in the gloom. She reattached the silencer, holstered the pistol, and let the first four shamble toward her. Darker shapes shifted behind them.

  “Aroo, Aroo, Aroo” she bellowed, the Spartan race chant punching through the entryway. A heartbeat before they reached her, she pivoted and sprinted, legs chewing up pavement as she hit the trailer ramp at full speed.

  On the side of the overturned truck, she smacked the Large Diameter button. The machinery roared awake, a deep churn that shook through the frame. ‘Oh snap, heeeee, it worked.’

  Jumping down she hit the ground with a small roll then back to her feet, running on the far side of the store and scooping her spear from where it rested against a pillar. Goo floated ahead at each corner, his feed flashing clear routes on her HUD.

  The zombies at the store front never saw her coming. “Come on, you ugly meat bags!” she yelled, driving the spearpoint into the nearest skull. The rest began to swivel toward her. She grinned, backed away, then broke line of sight, sprinting around to the entrance.

  “It’s a party and you’re all invited!” she called into the cavernous dark. A hollow chorus answered. She didn’t wait, already retracing her route to the shambling lead pack, tapping the spear rhythmically against the ground.

  “Twenty-two,” Goo reported. “Twenty Mundane, two Normal. Make that twenty-five, three more Mundane emerging from the store.”

  Her pace slowed just enough to keep them focused on her. In her HUD, their outlines bunched tight in the ramp’s mouth. ‘Herd instinct,’ she noted. She stepped carefully onto the incline, never breaking the bait rhythm.

  The lead zombies began their clumsy climb. She turned and jogged the rest of the way up, planting herself behind the feeder hatches. The first three fell forward into the shredder’s dark mouth. The sound was immediate, wet grinding and a geyser of black gore that misted her cheek.

  “Yuck,” she muttered, ducking low, though Goo’s feed no doubt caught every spray. “Product placement at its best,” she quipped, watching the “You Dump it. I Shred it.” logo shake with each impact. More fell, bone popping, flesh tearing. The smell rolled over her in waves, metallic and sweet-rotten.

  She watched four more jostle their way to the yawning rectangle of death, pitching in headfirst and ducked down as a renewed burst of black fluid shot into the air and the grinding deepened into a growling whine. A deep shudder ran through the truck as the growl shifted into a high pitched whine. She peeked up over the edge in time to watch the last foot disappear into the metal teeth and the whine subsided into a steady whir of metal once again.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Ok, four is one too many, I'll have to thin the herd.” She told herself and stepped around the feeder ramp and to the left of the hatch door. Mav looked at the group before her and then poked her spear into the head of a corpulent zed who was lumbering up the ramp. Its body fell where it had stood and blocked the path for the ones behind it. This forced them to move three abreast.

  “Let’s go, kids! Everyone in the grinder!” Three more bodies vanished into the teeth. Then she spotted it, a light blue highlight. A D-class in police armor halfway up the ramp. If it went in, the motors would seize. She killed the front zombie with a quick spear thrust, forcing the pack into a tighter, slower three-abreast squeeze.

  Two more tumbled in before she could stop the Normal. It dropped chest-first into the maw. The motors screamed, grinding through armor until the whole machine shuddered and died, red light flashing on the panel. She dispatched the last few with precise spear thrusts, then cleaned the tip on a shredded uniform.

  “That was epic,” Goo said, drifting back to her shoulder. She almost answered, then the heavy bang and watery splash at the back end snapped her head up.

  “Oh, that is disgusting,” Goo observed.

  She moved fast, rounding the trailer and froze at the stench. The back doors hung wide, a spreading pool of blood and pulverized viscera seeping into the asphalt. The heat turned the smell into a living thing. She swallowed hard, pulling her arms tight to her stomach. .Need to find if I can toggle nausea off,. she thought.

  Without looking back, she jogged away, keeping her eyes on the row of storefronts ahead.

  “Shoot, I have to get moving!” Mav muttered, glancing at her in-game clock:

  PGT-8:09:01 / ERWT-0:48:54 / GT 3:09:03 PM.

  The sun was already sagging toward the horizon, the light slipping into that pre-dusk softness that made her wonder how quickly night would really fall here. Jim’s voice replayed in her head, half stern, half easy-going: “It’s simply too dangerous. With good night vision gear and a mapped area, sure. But a flashlight? You’re just a dinner bell for something that wants to eat you.”

  She broke into a jog for the front doors. A quick glance inside. ‘In and out.’ A faded store map near the entrance showed her bearings: office supplies in aisle 3, just past the optometrist and holo equipment. Water was at the far back, but Mary’s request had been for bottles with lids, not the water itself. ‘If they’ve got heavy duty refill bottles, they’d be near kitchen gear aisle four, one past the office supplies.’

  Shoulders squared, she crouched and slipped inside. Goo settled onto her shoulder, his tiny metal claws anchoring in. Every step was placed with care, the dimness made shadows thick and corners deep. Overturned counters, scattered boxes, and shattered holo projectors cluttered the floor. She kept her spear high and her gaze moving.

  At aisle one’s corner, she peeked, no bodies, no movement and slid across to aisle two, repeated the move. At the endcap to aisle three, she paused, scanning deep into the gloom. The tall shelving swallowed most of the available light, leaving only narrow bands to see by.

  Rounding into aisle three, she spotted paper stacked just inside the turn. A grin tugged at her lips. Two reams went into her inventory as she thought, ‘overdeliver, maybe get a bonus.’

  Pens and markers followed, one of each stashed. Then her eyes caught what she’d been hoping for: heavy duty plastic bottles, three per pack, each plastered with a different superhero. She almost laughed, thinking of her dad. Ten packs in reach, but her inventory groaned under the weight. Only one stack of five would fit without dumping something.

  She cursed herself for not upgrading her bag earlier, then paused mid grumble. ‘Spring setting. There’s probably hiking packs in camping. Three aisles up.’

  Backtracking, she scanned each intersection, trying to push her vision through the murk. A broken camp stove caught her eye in the parallel aisle, three up. She adjusted her grip on the spear, stepping over debris with the precision of someone who expected claws to reach out from the dark.

  At the stove, she crouched, keeping her gaze away from the brighter front entrance to save her night vision and began sweeping the shelves. Midway down, something under a collapsed camp chair caught her eye: a package labeled lamp. Her mouth curved wide. She pulled it free, a Black Diamond headlamp, the same model she’d used in races.

  Carefully setting down her spear, she drew her knife, slit the packaging, and freed the lamp. Covering the light she thumbed the controls in a practiced pattern until a dull red glow bloomed in her cupped hand, she slipped the band around her head.

  Under that muted light, the aisle sharpened, bare shelves, scattered, broken gear. Her eyes locked on the prize: large packs hanging from heavy hooks. She slung her spear up, padded down the aisle, and activated Active Scan she looked over the packs until one stood out.

  C-Class - Basic

  Ospray Backpack, Teal

  Type: Backpack, 160 Slot

  Material: Nylon/Polyester

  Mods: Double Stitched (+10% Inventory), Reinforced clips & fastenings (-50% wear)

  “Perfect.” She shrugged it on one handed, spear still ready in the other.

  Retracing to the office aisle, she simply dropped the smaller bag into the larger, along with the extra water bottles, ‘it takes up so much space but why overthink it right now?’, and shook her head at herself.

  At the front, she clicked the headlamp off and swept the entrance again. Alone, the tang of rotted gore still seeped in from outside, riding the memory of her grinder trap.

  Clock check, past 4 PM, sun sliding faster now. She took the veterans’ warnings to heart and started circling the building for a safe log-out.

  The loading dock held the answer, an autonomous transport truck, half full of boxed lawn furniture. The door had been sealed, no zed she’d met so far could have climbed into the cargo bay. She slipped inside, lowered the door, and pushed boxes into a tight square against one wall, forming a fourth side for cover.

  Pack off, she eyed the chaos inside her inventory. ‘No way I’m logging out with it like this, it’ll itch at me until I fix it.’ She laughed under her breath at herself and began sorting, pulling, stacking, slotting gear into neat categories only she understood.

  An hour later, satisfied, she finally hit Log Out.

  “Thank you for playing Eclipse Nexus, Umbra scenario. Your transition is nearly complete back to the real. If you have any lasting discomfort, headache, or vertigo, please contact Eclipse Nexus Player Help by asking your AVA to connect to ENHelp. We are here 24/7 to assist. Thank you again, player, and see you soon.”