You heave a heavy sigh. Going back out there alone would be insane, and you know it. Besides, Buster is as big as a barn. He'll either be an undead killing machine, or in the least, he'll draw their attention away from you. It's a win-win.

"There ya are, Alex. Thought we lost ya," Paul says, coming out of the door, followed by the lot of them.

"Almost," you grumble, already half-regretting your missed chance. "What's going on?"

"Well, we've decided as a group that we're going to come with you," he says.

"All of you?" You stare around. They look like lost puppies, giving you hopeful eyes.

"We're family," Paul says. "We stick together."

Little knives pierce your heart at his unexpected words. How you wish to be with your own family - even if your dad tells one of his stupid, unfunny jokes. Even if your mother fusses about the state of your hair in public. You wonder what they're doing. Probably sitting in the food court at Starbucks, having iced coffees while they wait for help. Will help ever come? Or will they have to stay there until they fight their way out? If so, you have to be there to help them.

"Fine," you say. "The mall isn't far. I don't know if you've been outside lately, but it's kind of sea of undead out there."

"We'll have to go through 'em," Paul says thoughtfully. "There ain't no way 'round 'em. Rustle up some weapons, we're gonna kick some zombie ass. Mack, get the hatchets, they're light."

Mack is already picking up a chainsaw. With her thin, short frame, the machine looks very intimidating next to her. 'Psh," she blows. "I ain't no candyass, uncle. This here'll be just dandy." She says the last part with too much pleasure, making her sound psychotic.

They're all crazy, you think...but crazy is good in war.

You go for the weed eater that had caught your eye. The weight of it is a little alarming. Swinging this will take some muscle, but you think your up for it. Just in case, you locate some of the hatchets that Paul had mentioned and shove them into your belt loops.

At last it seems everyone is strapped up. Po has hedge clippers, a length of a garden hose, and a couple of gas cans. Roge is holding a power saw, Paul has a couple of long metal pipes, and Buster has a sharp axe.

"Remember to look for an old model car out there, Po. The newer ones have guards in the tank, can't cypher those," says Paul.

"'Kay, dad," says Po, with a nod.

"You slip out first, these guys need gas A-S-A-P," Paul says. "Be as quiet as a little mouse."

Now that Paul has made the connection, you realize Po does sort of look mousey. He's even smaller than Mack, but only slightly. You're trying your best to focus on insignificant things, because you might lose your nerve if you pay too much attention to the tattered and bloody undead, growing curious with all the noise.

Po starts to open the door, but Buster says to wait. He reaches up and wraps a big hand around the annoying little bell. When Po opens the door, there isn't even the tiniest of noises, and the undead are none the wiser.

Good thing you didn't dash out there alone, you realize. You'd forgotten all about that silly bell. You watch Po sneak around silently, and wonder how he isn't overcome with terror, right in the middle of all of those stinking, horrible creatures. But he's professional-like in his movements, determined to fulfill his task. He finds an old Car soon enough and gets to work. In moments, the liquid is flowing from the hose into the canister. The undead give slight notice. But the liquid mustn't be very appealing to them, because they lose interest quickly.

You continue to watch with bated breath as he moves to another vehicle. Po gets the hose in and the other end in his mouth. This time, the gas starts flowing too fast and touches his tongue.

"Pleh!" he spats.

Beside you, Mack lets out a yelp of panic. Like an alarm has been set, the undead snap into action.

Wait for Buster continued on CHAPTER 25