A loud groan was heard echoing through the second floor of Macy's, although this one lacked the low pitch of the walking dead it didn't lose out in sheer intensity. The frustration it held was almost palpable.

"I just stole these, damn it!" Grey swore beneath his breath even as he quickly stripped himself of his pants and gloves. It wasn't because he was a sexual deviant by any means, he had zero wants to do a striptease for anyone zombie or otherwise, but he did not have much of a choice as his former pants soon developed a large gaping hole where the knees were. Even by today's fashion standards were torn jeans were trendy it was a ridiculous size. Although he was quick, he didn't manage to get away scot-free as he had a sizable acid burn the size of his palm on his right thigh. He was just glad that it wasn't bad enough to hinder his mobility and his hands were perfectly fine. Being unable to walk during a zombie attack might as well have been a death sentence after all.

He slowly walked back towards the staff room to rinse out his leg and treat his wound, the dissected remains of what was once a John Doe left behind him in bloody pieces. What was even more horrific was not only were guts and gore spread out on the floor, but that everything was melting as if they were made of wax on a hot summer's day. A punctured stomach with a ruined pocket knife lying next to it was the culprit.

"Seriously? What kind of brand name department store not keep a first aid kit around?" He grumbled to himself as he had to make do with cutting up a nearby shirt as makeshift bandages. He clenched his teeth as he poured a good amount of hand sanitizer on the acid burn, yet he couldn't help the hiss of pain from escaping. He wanted to curse out, but he honestly didn't have anyone to blame but himself for being so careless. These things were monsters that didn't make sense, to begin with, it was truly idiotic of him to assume the thing was harmless after he tied it up and broke its limbs, but seriously high-pressure acid glands?

Seriously?

What the actual fuck? Definitely magic or sci-fi bullshit at work, there is no way for humans to suddenly grow what was basically an entirely new organ within 4-5 fours. This is ignoring the fact that the thing was eating at his steel knife. Still, it was a good thing he learned this now in a controlled environment than out there in the field. A slight shiver went down his spine at the thought of being caught off guard and accidentally showering himself in the stuff by mistake. Yes, he'll take this pain, engrave it deep within his mind, and internalize it and let it be a lesson to him. Knowledge is power and he won't be caught by surprise again. After wrapping it nice and tight he got a new pair of pants and started on his plan.

His little game of operation had yielded a goldmine of information and he was ready to go after testing out his leg and ensuring there weren't any problems. Looking at the live feed of the entrance he could see there was only 3 currently outside, 2 had wandered into the Bed Bath & Beyond and the others had wandered around the corner. Normally the advice when facing zombies or escaping is to travel as light as possible, but considering how incredibly slow these things were and the fact that he recently learned regarding their bile, he decided to bring 2 backpacks with him along with a metal bar he detached from a clothing rack.

It was about as long as his arm with a decent weight to it. Part of him had wanted to go for an even longer one for the extra protection the reach would've given him, but considering that he had fight multiple opponents in close quarters he couldn't afford something so cumbersome. Plus the significant weight of the thing would've made him tire himself out quickly. His goal wasn't to eliminate the zombies, so direct fighting was left as a last resort anyways.

The plan was to get to stock up on supplies. He would first stop by the food court before making his way to Dick's sporting good on the other side of the mall to get some gear. It was the coldest month of the year and he wasn't sure how long water and gas will be a thing and the store had all he needed to camp. Time to make like a hoe and grab some Dick's.

From what he had learned the zombies react mostly to sound and if he was going to survive for any significant period of time in this fucked up place, he had to learn and fast. Deciding that 3 was manageable enough to handle even if he got caught, Grey slowly stalked towards one of them.

He made sure to connect all his phones into a facetime call and placing them in a way that the zombies wouldn't knock them over, but still gave a good angle so he could have a constant view of his path. It wouldn't do if he somehow got caught between two groups while he was collecting stuff. It was a young girl, 16 or so if he was to hazard a guess, he could still see the bright red lanyard with a school I.D sticking out of her pocket. Probably a student from Saugus High who had decided to play hooky. Another reason to thank his lucky stars for deciding to come in early, or else there might've been anywhere from 3-5 times as many people which in turn meant a lot more would be zombies. He silently walked behind her while keeping in mind all the tips and tricks he has heard or seen over the years. Some from friends who enjoyed camping and recreational hunting, others from youtube survivalist videos and other stuff online.

(i.e anime and web novels... Hey if zombies of all things were suddenly real whos to it wouldn't work?)

It was a bit hard to see as the sunroof of the mall was one of its main light sources and it was especially overcast today. The holiday lights weren't due to turn on for another 2 hours. Hopefully, by then he would've gotten everything he needed and secured himself a safe haven until the night passes. He would have to bunker down somewhere in the mall because he was in no mood to drive in the dark with who knows what out there.

It would really suck to escape from zombies only to die running into a moose, or worst, a zombified moose.

Suppressing a silent chuck at the humorous image of a cartoon zombie moose prancing around in the snow, he managed to follow the female walker into a toys store, there were only 10 feet separating them now and he was so close he could easily make out more details about his practice dummy than her obnoxiously bright pink hair. Both of her ears had at least 3 piercing and he could see just the barest hints of a tattoo on the nape of her neck. He made sure to keep the other 2 walkers within his peripheral vision as he followed along.

They walked into an aisle full of water guns and Nerf launchers and for a moment an incredibly stupid and gross thought wandered into his mind before he discarded it: What if he filled the water guns with the zombie's acids? However, trying to gather it would've been far too messy and dangerous with what he has. It wasn't worth the trouble, this wasn't D&D or some litrpg where he could conveniently store anything he wants. He had to plan smart.

He still took two Nerf funs and a bunch of ammo, backtracking to the front desk. Carelessly pushing aside the corpse there to rummage around until he found a pair of scissors to open the boxes. He took some of the leftover bandages he had stuffed in his backpack and wrapped them around one of the guns to muffle the sound. All these years of playing "Assassination" with his friends are finally going to pay off it seems. Looking through the mirrors placed around the store he quickly found his target and proceeded.

With a dull click, a foam Dart sped through the air until it landed perfectly on the back of the zombie's head... Before promptly falling to the ground, failing to find a surface to stick too with all the long hair in the way. It barely made a sound as it fell to the ground. Another confirmation. Zombies truly have no sense of touch it seems. This is completely a pragmatic move and not because he was feeling bored. Besides this is practicing his aim for when he has to use a real gun. He wasn't sure where he was going to get an actual gun, but considering how he lived in America he could probably find one... or 3... or a dozen depending on how lucky he was in a single home.

He chose to ignore the fact that shooting a toy gun well doesn't mean you can shoot a real gun. Hey, he was great a paintball, that had to count for something... right?

Half an hour later and a couple of boxes of fake ammo spent and Grey decided he was good enough. He could get so close that he could not only see the white of her eyes, now actually red from being bloodshot, but also the freckles on her face which now had a good amount of blue and orange darts sticking on it. He turned around to continue on his quest when suddenly a crash came from behind him. The undead girl had actually walked into a display. That wouldn't have been so bad as they were deep in the shop, but unfortunately, that particular display was full of toy puppies.

The annoying kind that your aunt gave your little brothers on their birthdays to punish you for some unknown slight. The ones that Never. Shuts. The. Fuck. Up.

Except in this case instead of one incredibly obnoxious and loud toy, there was 20, and instead of merely attracting completely justified irritation and hate, it was flesh-eating monsters. Joy. Giving up all pretense of stealth he walked up to the lone zombie and smashed its head with a downward blow. One hit, one kill. Although he could by no means call it a clean one as the gross bits of grey matter coated this year's "Hottest Game of the Year!" featuring some half-naked blonde chick on the cover. He tossed the toy gun away and crouched down to wipe his rod on the fallen girl's shirt when he heard more groans coming closer. A quick glance at his surveillance phone showed a total of 6 incoming a good distance away. Plenty of time to clean up these two mob monster and get away.

And so he nonchalantly took his sweet time cleaning up and getting ready, confident in his ability to take care of 2 "lowly zombies", after all, he had managed to take down 6 of them at once by himself unarmed.

He wasn't scared of these things and that was a big mistake. One he would quickly realize far too late in all his arrogance.

As he took a loose stance against the two fleshy punching bag approach him he failed to notice a third shadow hidden behind the others. The pair made quite the site. One was a lanky skater boy with a coffee stained shirt and the other an obese walrus of a man wearing a sweater far too short and exposing far more belly folds than he had ever seen before.

He idly watched them and positioned himself so that he was in a narrow aisle only big enough for one of them to come at a time. With his long legs, the former pretty boy reached him first and lunged for his throat with a bloody maw. It seems there were, in fact, other survivors. He had made sure to check whether zombies would eat other zombies "living" zombies, dead zombies, or animal flesh (although considering he only had some slices of ham and a cold sausage for the last one, he wasn't quite ready to write that off just yet) and it all turned up negative. Heck, he even tested freshly dead humans from the initial contact with the virus or whatever!

Adding a mental note to keep an eye out for other survivors he swung his pole as if it was a baseball bat, caving in its skull at the temple. It dropped like a sack of potatoes.

As his eyes zoomed into where he knew the other zombie was coming from, but a sudden shriek caught him flat footed as between the legs of the re-corpses-ified man was a small girl in a bright yellow sundress. He had seen some pretty disturbing things in his life even before the dead started to rise again. The action of the KKK, Videos or phone calls during and of the aftermath of 9/11, the tragedies of the Jim Crow laws. Whether it was history of ages long pass or the modern era, humanity has always been a fucked up species, and while logically he understood what he was getting himself in too when he decided to leave the relative safety of the Macy, planning his badass escape that could make any World War Z hobbyist zombie green with envy...

Well, there was a stark difference between knowing and seeing, and the visual of a little girl looking as if she had gotten mauled by a pack of wolves jumping to get a bite out of him even with the fact that she was missing the lower half of her jaw shook him for a moment. The sudden weight crashing against his leg normally would've made him stumble at best, but the shock had left him dumb and the impact to his fresh wound made him instinctively backtrack. A poor decision as he ended up with a rabid murderous child on top of him wailing away as if its unlife depended on it.

A long wet and slimy thing slipped under his jacket's collar, wiggling as if a giant worm trying to crawl under his skill while he felt a sharp pressure at the side of his neck. Like a demented bobblehead from hell's gift shop, the little girl raised what was left of her head back before slamming it onto his neck. Again and again, back and forth, with such force as if mimicking an axe trying to fell an oak tree. He watched her do it in a daze.

Can that slender neck really keep up with all this abuse? He was a bit worried she would give herself whiplash if not outright snapping it considering what little amount of neck she even has left. A loud bang resulting from the bloated undead kicking his pole he dropped earlier woke him up. He shoved the thing off him and got up on his feet, eyes darting side to side for something he could use as a weapon, but all around him were only fragile toys in cardboard containers. A glance back told him that the shuffling tube of rotten lard was almost here and he had his back to the wall and no weapon to speak off. Zombies are stronger than they were in life with their body no longer limiting muscle performance to prevent hurting itself or so he presumed. Add that to the considerable amount of mass on his asshole and how narrow space was meant he wasn't going to be able to take it down piece by piece like the others.

Goddamnit Murica, why did 1/4 of the population had to be obese?

His brilliant idea to take them down had backfired horribly. With how much fat that body had there was no way for him to move it and nothing able to break the skull he was fucked. His heart raced as he walked his death inch ever closer, the force of his pulse made his fingers twitch in rhythm as he strived to think of a way out of his current predicament.

Time was running out.