~15 minutes earlier~
Sam was taking a piss when the zombie broke down the door.
He didn't even get to finish when the zombie barreled through and started screaming.
So much for a relaxing experience.
Sam screamed and backed away quickly, the other men in the bathroom doing the same. The zombie was female, ironically, with papery green skin that hung in clumps and sunken eyes that rolled around in her head. Not hot at all.
Sam looked around frantically for some kind of weapon or escape hatch. He wasn't scared, not yet, his mind couldn't process what was happening. Right now it was time to act.
There. A window. Closed, and painfully small, but it was better than nothing. Sam was about to run when the lights flickered off. The crippled woman screeched again, not a human sound. The sound was something like a fork scraping on a plate. Something paranormal.
Sam froze and looked back. The crippled woman was staring right at him, her figure barely outlined in the darkness. The other men ran away freely, their dark clothes blending in with the darkness. Only their scuffling sounds gave them away. The moonlight that filtered through the grimy old window seemed to shine on Sam the hardest. He looked down at himself.
Oh right. The bubble boy coat. Bright blue. It almost glowed, and the cripple was looking right at it.
Sam's voice rose in another scream and he bolted to the window. Up close, his escape looked even more hopeless. The other's had already left. He was alone in the damp smelling washroom with this monster. Sam pounded at the small window, running his trembling fingers over the sides to look for hatches. He looked around frantically for some kind of heavy weapon.
Too late. Sam's attention got snapped back to the zombie as it yanked one of the urinals from the wall. His eyes widening in horror, Sam watched the cripple rip the fixture from the wall, and cradle it in awkward arms. Sam pressed himself against the window. The moonlight shone on random bits of the monster; a dirty sleeve here, a rotten foot there. Through his numb mind, Sam reached for a half-baked plan and latched onto it. Sam braced himself against the window as the cripple came closer, swaying under the weight of the urinal. Sam's legs were shaking so badly, he was worried they wouldn't last long enough.
Sam forced himself to wait until the cripple was right in front of him, her features garish in the moonlight. Sam could barely stand to look at her, the smell of rot and burned flesh wafted off and circled Sam. Her hot breath hit Sam's face and made his skin feel like it was going to melt off.
Sam forced himself to wait until the cripple held the white shiny urinal over her head, aiming. Sam forced himself to wait until the last second, when the urinal came swooping down towards his face. Sam let his trembling legs fall, and he slid to the ground, covering himself with his arms.
Against all odds, his crappy plan worked. Instead of hitting Sam, the cripple threw the urinal right at the window, cracking it open and throwing a shower of glass over both of them. Sam's breathing hitched and he rejoiced for a second, before standing up and frantically shoving away the cripple, who was now without a weapon. Sam could hear screams from outside the washroom and he knew he only had a few seconds left. With all the might his muscle-less arms had, he pulled himself up and through the window on his stomach. The cold air hit his face, sweet and deliciously cold. He kicked his legs madly to propel himself forward, his feet connecting with the soft flesh of the cripple. He could hear her screaming in frustration and Sam let himself smile in victory. He wasn't dead.
Sam got up on his feet and started to run away from the Cineplex. Looking back, he saw in horror the rush of screaming folk leaving through the front door. There were other people, not quite walking right, attacking the onrush. Torn limbs littered the floor and Sam could hear the distant howl of sirens. He felt a new wave of panic rush through his body and freezing him.
His friends. Sam reached into his pocket and yanked out his little phone, nearly dropping it on the frozen ground. He pressed the ON button, but his phone screen wouldn't light up. Battery dead.
Sam swore and squeezed his phone in a clenched hand. He thought about all the times Helena pestered him about his knockoff phone, and now he wished he'd gotten a new one like Helena had told him.
Sam had emerged from behind the Cineplex and he looked down at the back ends of the other stores. There was the Home Depot, and past that, the Wall Mart. Sam figured maybe someone from Home Depot would have a phone or something, since it was a hard ware store.
Sam creeped quietly through the back lots of the Cineplex, heart in his throat. He was the only one here, but Sam didn't know what lurked behind buildings or what nestled in corners. Paranoid, Sam looked everywhere and nowhere at once. His breath swirled around him in the frosty air.
He slipped on a patch of ice and fell hard onto his ass. Sam swore, his whole body shivered from cold and fear. His jeans were wet and ripped. He fought back the sobs that built in his throat.
He felt lost and pathetic, all joy from earlier had faded. He wondered about his friends again, and looked up at the dark cloudy sky. Were they safe? Alive, even? Where were they?
Sam looked down one of the alleys separating the Cineplex with Home Depot. He could see figures running past the opposite entrance, causing long dark shadows to appear and disappear down the alley.
Suddenly, one of the figures turned towards him. Sam stared at the black silhouette, and watched as it raised a hand.
It was waving at him. Sam stood up straighter and got up on his knees. He strained to look harder at the figure, but it was too dark to make out details. Against his own judgment, he tentatively raised his own hand.
The figure started to run towards him, two others following behind. Sam was rooted to the spot, torn between terror and wild hope. The cold air ran through his blood, he was so cold.
"Sam! Hey man!" He recognized that voice. Recognized it since the first grade.
Brendan emerged from the darkness, the moonlight washing him into the clearing. Rory and Salar came out right behind him, their faces red and shiny despite the freezing wind.
"Brendan!" Sam gasped and he ran towards them, forgetting about the ice patch he still stood on. Rory laughed aloud when Sam fell back onto his already sore ass. The sound broke open Sam's emotions and he fought to stay calm.
"You okay man?" Salar asked. His glasses were missing, and he had a scratch along the side of his cheek. Sam couldn't see his expression, he was still halfway in the alley.
"Not really," Sam said. He carefully stepped over the ice. "How did you guys see me?"
Rory laughed again as Brendan said, "Come on, bubble boy. Look at your coat. We could see you a mile away."
