Girls Save the World in This One - Ash Parsons Page 0,61
She glances at me and Imani, seeming to register for the first time that we are armed.
“I need a weapon,” she says.
Through the narrow stairwell door window, I see a woman, a zombie, with long hair snarled in clumps in front of her face, almost like someone grabbed her by the hair, trying to stop her. Or trying to bite her.
The zombie sees us and opens her mouth, showing blood-slicked teeth and gray gums.
“Linus should have a weapon, too,” Annie says. “You should give him your weapon.”
I don’t know if she’s talking to me, Rosa, or Imani, but it doesn’t matter.
Imani and Linus beat my response time.
“What? Why?” Imani asks.
“That’s not necessary, I assure you,” Linus says.
“He’s a man,” Annie plows forward. “He’s stronger and stuff.”
“That’s regressive BS and stuff,” I snap.
“Seriously,” Imani agrees. “I am not giving up my weapon just because you didn’t think of getting one yet.”
The zombie woman on the other side of the stairwell door slams her body at the window. So far, the door hasn’t budged for her either.
That’s . . . lucky, I guess.
“If you want a weapon, keep your eyes open for one,” Imani says to Annie and Linus, her tone at once scolding and gentle.
“Certainly,” Linus agrees. “Here.” He trots a few feet behind us to the emergency station.
“This will work.” Linus pulls down a fire extinguisher.
“Okay, what am I supposed to use?” Annie asks.
“That.” I point to the bright-red box hanging near the fire extinguisher mounting.
“A defibrillator?” Annie scoffs. “What am I supposed to do with that? Hold up, zombie, while I put electrodes on you. Sure. Great. CLEAR!”
She mimics lifting her hands and stepping back from an imaginary body on a gurney, like in one of those hospital shows.
I refuse to let her make me feel foolish.
“It’s something. You can get a better weapon later,” I say.
“Fine,” Annie mutters. She walks to the red box and yanks it off the wall.
“Guess you’ll have to wait until we’re out of the hall to find something,” Annie says to Mia.
“I’m not worried about it,” Mia replies, in supreme nonchalance. “I’ve got mace in my purse anyway.”
“Will mace even work on zombies?” Linus asks.
“I guess we’ll find out,” Mia says, fishing the small aerosol can out of her slim bag.
“We’ll find something better soon,” I tell her.
“Consider yourself on the payroll.” Mia smiles, a gorgeous predatory curve. She really does give the impression that she’s completely in control and assured.
Annie hugs the plastic box over her chest, more like the box is a teddy bear, rather than a shield or weapon.
For some reason, we’re still creeping backward from the stairwell door. As if a sudden break for it would bring more attackers down upon us.
Or like sudden movement would break the spell of fragile safety we’ve found in the hall.
“What’s the plan?” Linus asks me, glancing back to the stairwell door, where the zombie woman is still going nuts, banging on the door with her arms, face, and shoulders.
“That noise is probably going to bring more zombies,” I say. “More zombies means more chance they’ll get through the door, no matter what’s blocking it. We can’t stay here.”
“Agreed,” Linus says. “No stairwell means no loading docks. I propose we try the other door.” He points to the top of the hall.
“I think that opens to the ballroom lobby,” Rosa says.
“We can at least check it out, see how it looks out there,” Mia agrees.
“We can’t call Siggy,” Imani says. “If only we could call or text.”
We’ve almost reached the middle of the hallway, where the closed, labeled doors wait.
They must be offices, or closets, or something like that.
“Hate to inform y’all,” Annie says, and her voice is tense with fear, “but that ballroom lobby? It’s full of zombies.