A large glass arch stood before them, shaped like a bullet, supported by smooth steel beams. Andy ducked through the shattered glass and into a circular, two-stories high shopping plaza. A pair of escalators connected the upper floors on either side of the room. Surrounding the plaza were mausoleum stores, long since abandoned and looted.

Their three tag-alongs were waiting for them in a caffe area at the plaza’s centre. Red plastic chairs stood beside low coffee tables. With Clara’s help, Andy slung the heavy machine gun against a wall and slumped into a plastic chair.

“Riddhi, Linton. With me.” Clara headed back out into the car park.

“Oh no,” the scrawny man in a lab coat said. “I’m not going back out there.”

“It’s safe,” Clara said. “Andy and I handled it.”

“You handled that demon?”

“We eliminated it. For now, at least. Come on, give me a hand with gear.”

The three of them left Andy behind with the mercenary they’d rescued. Andy massaged his forearms, stiff from firing the machine gun. His back ached from lifting it, his mouth was dry and he had a headache. But he’d done it, he’d submitted the AI implant and forced it to develop a power of his choosing.

Attention: Accelerated installation complete: Marsman: Heavy Weaponry (Tier 1): The Gunslinger’s musculature and skeletal structure is temporarily reinforced to facilitate the operation of heavy weaponry. Somatic recoil synchronisation minimises the transmission of negative kinetic energy to the operative.

Warning: Accelerated installation requires calibration. Failure to comply results in significant fatigue and increased risk of injury. Proceed to an Augmentation Master Console for recalibration.

“Sure thing, let’s see what we’ve got.” Andy looked around the plaza, reading the shop signs left over from pre-cataclysm days. “A bakery. A gadget shop. I think that’s a bowling alley. Reckon there’s military grade technology in there?”

“I doubt it,” the merc sitting nearby replied. He must have thought Andy was talking to him.

Andy stared at the man. He was almost as tall as Andy, but twice as muscular. His clothes were torn and stained so much it was hard to tell what they’d looked like originally. One side of his face was badly bloated, his eye swollen shut. His arms were cut and bruised. There was a fresh bandage on his arm soaked in blood. The handle of a .45 pistol jutted out of his belt buckle, about the only piece of clothing that had remained intact.

“Shame.”

Clara returned with the scientists, carrying supplies from the jeep. Specs carried the metal briefcase, wrapping his arms around it like it was his baby. Clara took something out of her back pocket and handed it to Andy–a small bottle of scotch, mostly empty.

“Huh, cheers,” he said. “What about the goth spirit I found? Țuică. The bottle was mostly full.”

“It got smashed.”

“No, really?” Andy shook his head, “That’s terrible.” He swigged the scotch, stretching his legs, then handed the dregs to the bruised merc.

“Cheers,” he said.

“No problem.”

Clara took up a chair and table beside the man, unboxing a first aid kit. “Right, the plan is to catch a little rest here. Patch our wounds, take stock, reload everything we’ve got, then move on. The jeep’s bust up.” She paused and sighed. Her voice sounded deflated. “We’re going to have to hotwire something else.”

“What a ballache,” Andy said.

“Hotwire?” the nerdy guy said. “You mean, one of those vehicles abandoned outside?”

Clara cleaned a wound on her patient’s arm then wrapped a bandage around it. “Uh-hu.”

“Won’t their batteries all be dead?”

“They will, so we’ll have to take the one from our jeep to jump it, or replace it with.”

“Assuming the one from your jeep still works.”

“Assuming it isn’t trashed from the crash or black magic, yes.” Clara tied a knot around the bandage. She dipped a cloth in solution, dabbing the merc’s busted up face. He clenched his fist, but didn’t flinch. “Or maybe we’ll get lucky and find something that’s been used recently and abandoned. But I doubt it.”

“Is it safe to work in the open?” Ballpit asked.

“Probably not,” Clara said. “But we need a vehicle, that’s priority one. Any suggestions?”

Andy wandered around the plaza while the others chatted. The cafe kiosk, dark and bare, recommended the ‘Seasonal Supreme Latte’ at the price of 4.5. There was no indication of what currency they accepted, but regardless, Andy doubted they’d be suitably stocked for his needs.

He circumvented the cafe area, glancing at the pre-cataclysm posters, glued behind glass. Most of them were peeling away. A block of sunlight shone on a portion of the plaza's second floor, beaming through the glass arch entryway. The signs and posters beneath the sunlight had faded over time due to the UV radiation–Clara had taught him about that once, and for some reason it had stuck in his mind. Elsewhere, in sections where shadows were everlasting, the graphics remained intact. A boy in trunks laughed at him from the darkness. He held a multicoloured beach ball, running towards whomever had taken the picture. His parents were behind him, also laughing. Also, there was an aeroplane in the background. Also, a cartoonish black cat sitting atop a pile of money. The slogan read: ‘Give your savings a break’.

“Neat,” Andy said, then something caught his eye. A body laid against the glass inside of the doorway. Its hand was propped up against the hingest. Its fingers were moving slowly, flicking at the glass. The body was emaciated like a dried, ashen fruit, mouldy and grey. Andy bent down for a closer look. Empty white eyes gazed back at him. Its jaw hung limp, creaking on its hinges like the trigger of a rusty pistol with an empty magazine.

“There’s zombies here,” Andy reported, rejoining the group. “But they’re mostly dead.”

“Aren’t all zombies dead?” Specs said.

Andy glared at him. “Alright, they’re mostly dead-dead.”

“What did you find?” Clara asked.

“There’s one over there, behind glass. Looks like the same strain as the ones we were fighting recently, except, kind of tired out.”

“Maybe it just woke up,” she said. “They’re active in the dark, quiet during the day.”

“Could be,” Andy said. “Or maybe they don’t do as well on their own.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the ones we found in the basement… they were all piled up. Maybe this far from the city, they’re separated from a group, and just sort of die.”

“We need more evidence,” Clara said. “It’s a theory, though.”

“There could be more of them,” the nerd said. “Give me a weapon. I need to be able to defend myself.”

“There’s a pistol in that bag,” Clara said, pointing at the supplies they’d taken from the jeep. “Give one to Riddhi too.”

“Are we ready to get moving?” Andy said.

“Just about.” Clara packed away the first aid kit. The merc thanked her, sitting upright. He had a large cotton patch over his eye. One of his hands was wrapped up like a glove.

Andy spotted a bandage around Clara’s thumb and wrist. “You okay?”

“Fine, just a sprain.” She set off towards the glass entrance way, Andy in tow. Then something caught his attention, the sound of an engine. Clara ran ahead of him, and they both scanned the roads outside. At one end of the car park, there was an embankment of weeds and trees. A jeep-sized path cut through the weeds where they had crashed down from the motorway earlier. The embankment dipped as it ran the length of the lot, flattening out at an exit point one-hundred metres away. Foliage stretched over the concrete divide, cracking the paving stones with their roots.

The sound of an engine sped behind the embankment treeline. Andy followed it until the foliage ebbed and the vehicle was visible, heading towards the car park entrance. Two goths sat atop the motorbike, dressed in leathers. They drove around the shopping district out of sight, but there were more behind them.

Andy counted the engines. “About four, maybe more.”

“I hear six,” Clara said, her head tilted to the sky.

“So much for a quick getaway,” Andy said.

“I don’t really fancy jumpstarting one of these wrecks while they’re harassing us.”

“They won’t get close,” Andy said, resting his hand on Julie.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“It’s not close, I’m worried about. They might miss nine out of ten shots, but they’ll have plenty of time to get lucky if we have to work on a vehicle out in the open. They’ll just pick us off.”

“I could create a distraction?” Andy said. “Or we could use one of the scientists as bait.”

“No,” Clara said.

“Not even the nerd?”

Clara scowled, her face shadowed by the brim of her cap. “Let’s get back inside. We can barricade the entrances to this area of the mall. Separate it from the rest. Secure it. Then, we head to the roof. We’ll have a look around and see what our options are.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Clara conveyed her plan to the others while Andy scouted the plaza’s entrances. Climbing the escalators, he discovered that the plaza’s first and second floors were isolated from the rest of the shopping centre, connected only by a passageway on the ground floor. There were shops everywhere, each of which undoubtedly possessed back doors to loading areas and fire exits. Likely dozens of doors. But instead of checking each one, he focussed on the main weaknesses: the glass domed entryway they’d entered through, and the connecting passageway.

Andy turned his headlamp on and followed the passageway around a corner as it snaked into the shopping complex. The sound of Clara’s voice disappeared as he delved deeper, until it was quiet, and he was alone. On either side of the corridor were stores. To his right, a looted jewellery store. To his left, a display of fungus topped doughnuts shone bright pink in his headlamp. A sign read: ‘Doughn’t miss out.’

He passed by clothing stores with display mannequins, keeping an eye on them, just checking that they weren’t alive. After his experience on the ghost train, he half expected anything humanoid to jump out at him. He considered putting a bullet in the mannequins' heads, just to be safe… but that was a bit extreme. Besides, they might have to conserve ammo for what was to come.

About ten minutes into his stroll, the corridor ended at two escalators heading downwards with an access elevator beside them. Andy considered how they’d barricade the escalators. He spotted something lurking down the corridor beyond, another zombie. Andy clapped his hands. The zombie picked its head up and stumbled towards him. Sunlight streamed in through glass panels along one wall. Andy watched as the zombie reached the bottom of the elevator and tumbled on the steps. It crawled on its hands and legs like a baby, climbing the escalator.

Andy observed its ascent, downloading information on the strain, then once it reached the top, he kicked it in the head, knocking it backwards. It clanged off the railings and landed in a heap. Its neck was snapped and twisted around. It glared at him, grinding its jaws, but couldn’t move its limbs. Paralysed.

Andy listened out for anything else attracted by the sound, but there was nothing. He returned to the others and told Clara about the escalators.

“Yeah, that’s tough to defend,” she said. “Better we barricade a section on the first floor of this plaza. At least then we can narrow our perimeter down to just two main entrances.” She pointed at the two escalators in the plaza.

Carrying their gear up to the first floor, they set it in a pile near the balcony and explored. The floor was decorated with the corpses of neglected plants, standing in marble bowls full of pebbles. The smell of gunk and algae permeated from a large fish tank inside a pet store, overflowing with dropping plants. There was a picture of a happy fish in the window wearing a chef’s hat, giving the thumbs up. Clara moved inside an adjacent restaurant, where there were heavy wooden tables inside.

“This will do,” she said. “It’s near the escalators, so we will have an overwatch on the plaza below, but not too high up and out of the way that it will be difficult to escape if we need to fall back.”

“How can we help?” the woman scientist asked.

“Move these tables in front of the window,” Clara said. “Robert, can you have a look in the kitchen and offices for any back entrances?”

“I’ll map it out.” He pulled his belt up, adjusting the pistol in his waistline and set off.

Specs lounged on the floor, payload in his lap. His eyes were black bags as he scowled up at Clara.

“The sooner we fortify this area, the sooner we can have a little rest,” Clara said. “Remember what I told you. We’re professionals. We’ve done this before. Follow my orders, take my advice, and we’ll all get out of here alive.”

Clara extended a hand to help him up, but the man looked away.

“I need five minutes.”

“I trust you,” the woman said. “Linton, we must do as she says.”

“We’re just doing our jobs,” Clara said.

“No,” she said. “You risked your lives for us.”

Clara laughed. “That’s our job.”

The woman’s shoulders bunched and she bowed her head. Her back was to Andy, but he could guess she was crying, maybe? Clara’s expression changed, she seemed sad too now. What was the big deal?

“Aww, come here.” His sister hugged the woman briefly, then pulled away and squeezed her shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Finally, Clara left the two scientists alone and they headed towards the roof together. As they travelled up another escalator, he heard the heavy tables being scraped across the floor, and the rev of a distant engine through the walls. It was easy to pick out sounds when the rest of the world was deadly silent. Then, in the far distance, came the low rumble of an explosion.

“This way,” Clara said, following a door into a stairwell, then up onto the roof. Andy squinted as sunlight struck his face. He retrieved his rickety sunglasses from his jacket’s inner pocket and put them on. Metal boxes poked out of the gravel floor at regular intervals, adorned with fans, grates and electrical panels. Andy hopped over a ventilation tube to get at the edge of the roof and surveyed their surroundings. The circular plaza section of the shopping complex stood like a tower at the end of a long rectangular structure with a flat roof, with an access ladder leading downwards. Behind the shopping complex were untended fields and overgrown roads, likely once used for farming. The only viable way in and out of the complex with a vehicle was the two roads connecting the vast carpark to the motorway.

Motorbikes patrolled along the motorway, like wasps around an enemy hive. Andy heard another explosion in the distance, and followed the sound to the edge of the roof. He squinted. Clara peered through binoculars beside him. Another explosion sounded, then the pop of distant gunfire.

“What are they doing?” she said.

“They must be fighting something. Could be another gang. Maybe this isn’t their turf.”

Clara checked her wrist terminal, lining her map up with the direction of the explosions. “We’re right near the border of three different apocalypse zones. That way,” she pointed to her right, “is unknown. But towards the explosions,” she trailed her hand towards the left. “Is killer toads–threat level one. Nothing serious. I can’t imagine they need this many explosives to fight toads.”

“Probably a rival gang then.”

“Probably. Bit of a coincidence though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, think about it. Who carries explosives like that to engage in a skirmish with a rival gang? It sounds like an all-out assault. Why now? They’re supposed to be chasing us, aren’t they?”

Andy shrugged. An engine revved from the opposite side of the roof, carrying over the quiet landscape. Clara skipped over the roof to the other edge. “The ones circling us don’t seem to be in a hurry to join their friends.”

“No, they’re surrounding us,” Andy said. “We could just take the payload out on foot, slip these bikes.”

“It’s about one hundred and fifty miles back to Quadra. That’s about a week on foot.”

“We ambush one of these motorbikes then, steal it and go.”

“And get chased the whole way by the gang?”

“We’ll be sneaky. Do you prefer our chances here?”

Clara gazed off the roof, contemplating.

“Think we can take vamps?”

“Maybe that thing will take some time to reconstitute itself.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Andy shrugged. “Why risk it?”

“Okay, we need to be out before sunset. But not on a bike, we’re too exposed like that, and I don’t want to leave anyone behind.” Clara walked along the edge of the roof, searching the car park below. “See anything roadworthy?”

“I don’t remember everyone being part of the mission,” Andy said.

Clara refused to look at him, ignoring the comment. Andy’s chest tightened. This was no time for charity. He wouldn’t risk Clara’s life for one of theirs, not even a little bit.

The high pitched sound of a gunshot whistled through the air, followed by another. Andy searched for where it came from, his senses suddenly sharpened as the ice cold taste of his Augmentation’s hormones trickled into his veins. When a third gunshot sounded, Andy’s attention flicked to a derelict lorry stationed on the motorway, the compartment of which poked above the embankment’s treeline. Two figures knelt on the roof. A muzzle flashed, then something chipped the brick wall fifty yards below and to the right. It was an embarrassingly bad miss, but the shooters kept on trying.

“Looks like they’ve spotted us,” Andy said.

“Where are they?” Clara asked. Andy pointed them out and she looked through her binoculars. “What a couple of idiots.”

Andy drew Julie and aimed down the sights, then adjusted his shot to account for drop off and a slight wind.

Attention: Unable to calculate ballistics, his AI informed him.

“What do you bet I can hit them from here?” Andy said.

Likelihood of success: Implausible.

“Talking to you, sis,” he clarified to the voice in his head.

Clara thought for a moment. Another shot spattered on the brickwork a mile away. “If you miss, you have to go up to Riddhi and ask her how she’s doing. If she’s alright.”

“Which one’s Riddhi?”

“The woman, obviously.”

“Do you mean Ballpit?”

“What? Who?”

“The chick with the lab coat.”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, deal,” Andy said. “But if I hit, I get to shoot her in the head.”

“What? No-”

Julie boomed in his hand, drowning out Clara’s protest. A plume of dust burst from the concrete path at the edge of the car park, a good ten metres away from his target. “Damn.”

“Ha!” Clara laughed. “Guess you gotta go pretend to be a person for a minute then, yeah?”

Someone called for Clara inside the centre. She left Andy on the roof to go see what was up. Andy strolled around, observing the landscape. “What do you think,” he asked of the voices.

Processing… Request: Clarify priorities.

“The payload. Mine and Clara’s lives.”

Calculation: Walk west for two-hundred and twenty six hours towards allied settlement: Quadra.

“But that would suck.”

Processing. Walk west for one-hundred and thirteen hours. Rest for six hours. Walk west for one-hundred and thirteen hours.

“You can tell you’re not the strategic model.”

Affirmative. Programmes optimised for combat enhancement protocol.

“Andy,” Clara buzzed over his radio. “Don’t freak out, but you’re going to want to see this.”

“Why would I freak out?”

“Don’t freak out.”

Andy jogged back inside and followed her directions down the first level, past where the two scientists had barricaded the restaurant and into the backroom of an adjacent storefront. It was hard to tell what the store had been before the cataclysm, since all the shelves had long since been picked dry.

At the back of the store was a closet. Clara was standing in the centre of the closet, examining the shelves. Specs excited the closet with a stack of bottles, placing them in a trolley outside.

Booze.

“Oh my God.”

Andy barged him out of the way and rushed inside the closet. The shelves were dusty and covered in clutter, but Clara pointed with her torch towards the back of the room where, beneath a bunch of discarded posters and plywood, was a stash of untouched, apocalypse-aged absinthe.

“Oh my God!”

“We’re having this to share,” Clara said, putting a small 50cl bottle in his hands. “The rest, we can make bombs from.”

“This will do me,” Andy said, unscrewing the lid and knocking it back. It tasted like peppermint diesel with a liquorish twist. Yum.

“To share!”