“Holy shit, did you see that?!” I yelled—but no one said anything. We were all frozen, watching one of those weird people sink their teeth into a woman’s throat as blood sprayed everywhere.

“Look at the others—they’re biting her too,” I said, eyes wide. The woman’s screams died in her throat as she collapsed, and the group just piled on her. There was blood everywhere.

We stood there in stunned silence, staring.
“This is crazy,” I muttered. “I feel like we’re in The Walking Dead.”

I turned to look at Mom and Jen. Their hands were clamped over their mouths in horror, their eyes glued to the chaos unfolding just yards away.

Then I spotted another attack—just ten feet from us. One of them—a woman this time—grabbed an older lady and bit into her neck. Blood burst out again, veins tearing open like something out of a nightmare.

We all started backing away slowly, heading toward the store next to the restrooms.

That’s when we saw the security guard.

He was lying in a pool of blood, head beaten in like someone had smashed it with a brick. His face was twisted in death—but next to him, glinting under the flickering mall lights, was a pistol in his holster.

“Mom, this is insane. But on The Walking Dead, they shoot the zombies in the head and they go down. That guard looks nasty, but he has a gun—and a backup one around his ankle, just like on TV.”

Mom stared in shock. “I have no idea how to shoot a gun…”

I looked at her. Jen looked at her. They looked more terrified than I felt—and I wasn’t going to tell them that I almost peed myself when I saw the first woman get eaten.

Suddenly, Jen screamed.

“Mom—those two! They’re looking at us! They’re coming this way!”

We turned and saw two of the things lumbering toward us, blood on their faces.

“What do we do?” Jen asked, frozen.

I looked at Mom—but she still wasn’t saying anything. Her hands were back over her mouth, as if shock had taken full control.

“Jen! You're closest—grab the guard’s gun! Aim at the zombie and pull the trigger!”

Jen didn’t hesitate. She dropped to her knees, pulled the pistol from the holster, and aimed it at the closest zombie.

BANG!

The shot hit its chest—but it kept coming.

Jen turned to look at me, panic in her eyes.

“The head!” I shouted. “Shoot the head! That’s what kills them!”

Still silent, Jen adjusted her grip, braced with both hands, and aimed again.

BANG!

The shot hit. The zombie crumpled to the floor.

“Excellent shot, Jen! Now shoot the other one—I’ll get the backup pistol from the ankle!”

I ran to the guard. It was harder than I thought to get the ankle holster undone—everything was soaked in blood—but I finally got the gun loose and sprinted back.

Mom stared at me, eyes wide.

“Natalie… you're only six years old. You shouldn’t be holding a gun.”

I looked at her like she was the crazy one.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Mom. Before I got turned into a six-year-old girl, I used to shoot paintball wars with my buddies. I was good, okay? But these things,” I said, holding up the gun, “are way heavier now than when I was a sixteen-year-old boy.”

Mom looked at me helplessly.

“I’ve never shot a gun in my life. Never even held one,” she admitted, still staring at the small pistol in my hands.

BANG! BANG!

Jen fired two shots and dropped another zombie.

“Good shot, Jen,” I said, catching my breath. “But remember—try to go for one shot, one kill. This isn’t a video game. We can run out of ammo.”

Jen looked at me—and her eyes suddenly widened.

I turned, just in time to hear Mom scream.

A zombie had grabbed her by the shoulder, dragging her backward as it leaned in—its blood-covered mouth aiming for her neck.

“Mom!”

I didn’t hesitate. I raised the pistol, stepped in close, and shoved the barrel under the zombie’s chin.

BANG!

Blood exploded out the top of its head. My arm and side were instantly soaked—thick red splatter, chunks of brain, and something that looked way too much like spaghetti all over me.

“Ugh... freaking disgusting,” I muttered.

“Great shot, Natalie!” Jen gasped. “You saved Mom!”

I turned to her, and for a second, I thought Mom was screaming again—except… no sound was coming out. Her mouth was open, her face twisted in shock, and blood was dripping down her cheeks.

She was completely silent. Covered in gore. Shaking.

A hand landed on my shoulder—I spun, ready to swing, but it was Jen.

“Man, you scared the crap out of me!” I exhaled.

She grinned.
“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen.”

I narrowed my eyes at her smug smile.
“I am not a drama queen!”

Jen just laughed.

“Mom, are you okay?” I asked. “Remember, I saved your life the next time you wanna ground me… or spank me.”

Mom finally let out a laugh—loud, hysterical, and maybe just a little unhinged. Then she pulled both of us into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered, holding us close. “Thank you, sweetie. You saved my life. But—there are way too many of them. We need to get out of here.”

Right then, a loud crash shattered the moment.

We turned around—and saw them.

Over a hundred zombies—maybe more—pushing their way through the airport's glass wall. Shattered doors, broken panels, and slow, groaning figures spilling in like a flood.

“We need to go—and we need to go now! RUN!” Mom screamed.

We bolted in the opposite direction, feet slapping the floor, heart pounding in my chest like a war drum.

“Mom, where are we running to?” Jen called breathlessly. “There are zombies everywhere! The only good thing is they’re so sluggish.”

Mom kept looking around frantically, not answering at first.

“I don’t know where to go,” she finally shouted. “All I know is I don’t want to be anywhere near those things!”

“We know we can kill them,” I said, gasping for air, “but we’ll run out of bullets eventually. I think we should head to a sporting goods store. We could grab more ammo—maybe other weapons too.”

Jen gave me a skeptical look.
“Why the hell would an airport have a sporting goods store—or bullets?”

“Well,” I said, pointing ahead, “I know for a fact they have a sporting goods section in Pawxie. They’ve got everything—camping gear, survival tools, ammo. We’re heading the right way.”

Mom and Jen both looked at me, surprised.

I shrugged.
“Hey, being a sixteen-year-old boy had its perks. I pay attention to that kind of stuff.”

I could see my 14-year-old sister staring at me.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. I’ll stay in front like I am now, you turn and watch our backs, and since Mom seems kind of out of it, she’ll go in the middle. Okay?”

“Sounds good,” I replied.

Just as Jennifer turned to make eye contact with me, her foot caught on something—one of the dead zombies or maybe just a slick puddle of blood. She slipped hard, falling to the floor with a yelp.

“Jen! Are you okay?” I rushed toward her.

She grabbed onto Mom for support. I tried to help too, but I was way too small now to hold her up on my own.

Jen leaned up against Mom, wincing in pain. Her ankle was swelling fast—twisted or sprained, for sure.

“Jen, keep your shooting arm ready in case we’re surprised. I’ll take the lead now, and you cover the rear. Okay?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “Okay. I’m fine… just don’t leave me behind to get eaten by these crazy-looking zombies.” Her voice cracked. She was crying, trying to hide it, but I could tell.

“Just another hundred feet,” I said. “We’re almost there. Stay close to the wall, so we only have to watch the front. Jen, do you think you can make it to Pawxie? Look—you can see the entrance now.”

She looked up through teary eyes and nodded quickly.

“Yes—yes, I can. But don’t leave me.”

Mom and Jen leaned into each other for support. I knew it: if one of us got hurt any worse, we were screwed.

We turned a corner and spotted a security guard slumped against the wall. He was clearly dead—covered in blood, his body twisted under a control cabinet.

No weapons.

But... there was a key hanging from the cabinet above him.

“Hey! Do you see that security guard over there?” I pointed. “It looks like he was trying to activate the gate controls—like the ones that drop the metal barriers when the store closes. If we can get those gates down, we’ll be sealed inside Pawxie. We’d be safe.”

“But there are zombies already inside Pawxie,” Jen pointed out.

Mom looked from me to Jen, then back again.

She nodded once, determined. “Natalie’s right. If we can lock the gates, at least no more zombies can get in. Then we just have to deal with the ones inside. I’ll carry your sister—you’re the only one small and fast enough to get to that key and figure it out.”

“Okay. I’ve got it. Like I have a choice.”

We pushed inside Pawxie.

I ran ahead while Mom helped Jen limp through the shattered glass doors.

The control panel was right where the guard had died, the key dangling. I grabbed it and stared at the stainless steel panel.

Dozens of switches. Letters. Dials. My heart was pounding—I didn’t know what I was doing, and the zombies were getting closer.

Then I saw it:
CODE ADAM

I turned the dial.

Red lights started flashing. A loud clang echoed as steel gates began to descend from the ceiling, sealing the windows and doors one by one.

A voice crackled over the loudspeakers:

“This is a Code Adam. There is a missing child in the store. All entrances are being secured. Police have been notified. Please remain calm.”
I turned back to see Mom and Jen catching their breath as the last of the gates slammed shut behind us. The zombies outside reached the metal barrier and began clawing and slamming against it, growling and groaning. But they couldn’t get in.

We were safe—for now.

“How did you do that, Natalie?” Mom and Jen asked in unison.

Mom helped Jen gently to the floor as they both looked at me in awe.

I wiped sweat (and probably zombie guts) from my forehead and tried to stay calm.

“Back in high school, the police came to talk to us about a kid who got kidnapped in a department store. They told us about Code Adam—how it locks the place down immediately. When I saw the label on the switch, I just turned it and got lucky.”

BANG! BANG!

Mom and I turned around—Jen had her smoking gun aimed at a zombie that had been right behind me. I watched as it collapsed to the floor.

“Thanks, Jen,” I said, heart pounding. “Guess we can never let our guard down. The second we stop to take a breath, we almost get killed.”

“Let’s head to the sporting goods department—grab more bullets while we still can.”

We started moving slowly toward the "Camping" sign overhead. Blood and guts coated the floor, and a still-alive zombie—well, partially alive—was dragging itself along with its one remaining arm, growling as we passed.

“Ugh, that’s seriously gross,” Jen muttered. “It’s bad enough these things kill you, but they mess up your hair and make you look hideous while they do it.”

I glanced at her… then at Mom.

We both burst out laughing.

“Are you okay, Jen?” I asked, chuckling. “These zombies are literally eating people alive, and you’re worried about your hair?”

Mom giggled too, shaking her head.

“Well at least I’m not naked,” Jen added. “I mean—wouldn’t that be the worst? Turning into a zombie naked? Like, is there anything worse than that?”

I looked at her, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re right. I should totally get my hair done and my nails done before I’m bitten. That way, I’ll be a pretty zombie—with my head bitten off and flawless nails.”

Mom rolled her eyes, laughing as she shook her head.

“Yeah, well, Natalie,” she said, “we’re going through the girls’ department now.”

“What? Didn’t we just go shopping for me earlier?” I groaned, eyeing racks of dresses as we passed.

I turned around and saw Mom holding a little dress up behind me.

“This would look so cute on you, sweetheart,” she said.

I groaned.
“Seriously, Mom? One minute you’re speechless in shock, and the next you’re playing fashion show?”

BANG!

Mom and I spun around.

Jen had just shot another zombie. And Mom? She went right back to flipping through the dresses.

“Mom!” I said. “Are you serious? We could get swarmed at any second—” I paused, catching a glimpse of a sparkly blue dress.
“Ooh, that’s actually pretty...” I muttered, before shaking my head to get my mind back on track. “Wait, no! We’re surrounded by zombies and you’re shopping!?”

BANG!

Another shot. Another zombie down.

Jen gave us a look. “Okay girls, let’s get out of here.”

We started moving—but just then, Mom screamed.

Several zombies had grabbed her from behind.

Jen and I turned simultaneously and fired. The zombies collapsed on top of Mom.

“Go—save yourselves!” she shouted. “I’m done for!”

The dead ones toppled over her, and even more began climbing over the pile. I couldn’t even see her anymore.

Jen grabbed my arm. “We better run, Natalie!”

I nodded, tears burning my eyes.

“I’m coming. You watch the front—I’ll cover the back.”

BANG! BANG!

I dropped a zombie who looked like she was having the worst hair day of all time, covered in blood—hers or someone else’s.

We pushed forward, running full blast toward the sporting goods department. When we got there, we ducked behind the counter.

The wall was packed with rifles, shotguns, and every kind of weapon imaginable. Boxes of bullets were stacked behind the counter.

“Look, Natalie—you were right! They’ve got tons of ammo,” Jen said, kneeling down beside me.

She started opening boxes, her hands moving quickly.

“Why would an airport have this much ammo anyway?” she muttered. “There are all these different sizes—how do we know which ones we need?”

I stared at the labels, overwhelmed. “I’m... not even sure.”

“Don’t worry—I figured it out.” She started loading her gun. “Here—take these,” she said, sliding a box toward me.

I opened it up and checked my pistol. There was only one bullet left inside. I started reloading.

“Wow, sis—I was down to my last shot.”

Jen peeked over the counter. “I don’t see any more zombies. Maybe we got them all…”

I joined her, loading up as I talked. “Maybe. I still can’t believe Mom’s... gone.”

I heard Jen sniffle softly beside me.

“No, sis,” I said quickly. “Don’t cry. Not here. Not now. On TV, sound attracts zombies. We cry later—when we’re safe.”

She nodded, wiping her eyes.

Then I noticed her looking over at the semi-automatic rifles on the wall.

“Hey, little sis... you ever shoot one of these before?” she asked.

“Nope. Never shot a real gun before today. Only paintball guns. But hey—how hard can it be?”

She winced, rubbing her ankle.

I slowly stood up and spotted a few more zombies staggering toward us.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Jen had grabbed a semi-auto and fired.

“Wow, that was awesome! Did you see that?” she laughed.

I looked at the zombie still crawling toward us, slower now.

“You shot him in the balls, Jen.” I blinked. “What the heck was that? You need to hit the head!”

Jen grinned.
“Please. He’s not a ‘he’ anymore—he’s an ‘it’. No balls, no dick—no baby-making ever again.”

I cracked up. “You’re so messed up.”

Jen raised the rifle again and fired one clean shot between the eyes.

“Headshot.” The zombie dropped. We both laughed.

Until we heard growling.

Lots of it.

We turned.

They were right on top of us.