Apocalypsis 03 - Exodus

outside the door.
    “Where’d they get to?” said Jamal. “They were just with us.”
    “Maybe they’re doing it,” said Winky.
    “Shut up, Winky!” laughed Gretchen. “How old are you, anyway?”
    I pulled away from Bodo and pressed down on my hair, trying to neaten it up. I smoothed my wrinkled shirt down and pulled my shorts out of my butt crack, clearing my throat.
    “We’re in here! Come see all the guns!” I looked down and noticed a bulge in Bodo’s shorts. “Turn around!” I whispered. “Geez!”
    “What?” he said, looking down at himself. “Dat’s normal. Dat’s not a problem.” He looked up at me. “Are you embarrassed?” He was smiling at me, enjoying my discomfort.
    “Yes! Now turn around and act busy!”
    Bodo did as I asked, picking a gun up off the rack and sighting down the barrel, aiming at the wall, facing away from our friends.
    I stepped towards the entrance to meet them, just as they were coming out of the hallway and into the room.
    “What were you guys doing in here?” asked Winky, her voice full of suggestion.
    “Holy you-know-what,” said Jamal. “Would you look at all the guns?”
    “Crazy,” said Ronald, shaking his head. “We won’t need to find guns ever again.”
    “Where’s the ammo?” asked Bianca. “Guns don’t mean crud without bullets.”
    “Over there,” I said, gesturing to locked cabinets lining the side of the room. “There’s tear gas or smoke bombs, I’m not sure which, pepper spray, pistols, rifles, you name it. Anything you need to quell a riot. They even have shields and bullet proof vests and helmets and crap.”
    “I guess we’re all set, then,” said Ronald. He walked over to the door. “Anyone else ready to head back?”
    We followed him to the door.
    “Should we take any of this with us?” asked Gretchen.
    “If you want,” I said. “Couldn’t hurt.”
    I was walking out the door when I heard a rifle being cocked and Gretchen’s voice behind me, all humor gone from it.
    “Stop right there. Before I blow a hole in your back.”
    My heart plummeted and I froze in place with all my friends in the doorway. I put my hands up in surrender and turned around slowly, expecting to see a couple of lunatic canners who’d pretended to be girls in distress, ready now to fill me full of bullets.
    Gretchen and Bianca were standing there, both of them pointing rifles at us, looking dead serious. For about five seconds. Before they both collapsed in giggles, falling into each other and crossing their legs.
    “Ohshit, ohshit, ohshit,” said Bianca, laughing hysterically. “I’m gonna pee myself!”
    “That was … that was … aaahhhh, God, that was awesome!” said Gretchen, also laughing like a maniac. “We really had you going there, didn’t we?” Tears were coming up in her eyes as she hooted away.
    I breathed out a sigh of relief and put my open hand back over my shoulder. “Someone give me a slipper.”
    Winky slapped one in my hand, and we all advanced on them, taking about five minutes to beat the crap out of them with prisoner shoes, while they laughed and laughed and laughed the entire time.
    ***
    We made our way back to the front lobby, all of us exhausted from the immediate overdose of adrenaline caused by canner-fakers, followed by the hysterical laughter associated with a sound slipper beating. We’d almost gotten to the lobby when the door burst open and Jenny came stumbling through.
    Gretchen and Bianca ran ahead to catch her as she fell, dropping their rifles in the process.
    “What’s wrong, Jenny?” asked Bianca.
    “You have to come. Quickly,” she said, totally out of breath.
    We all rushed down the hallway, going as fast as we possibly could. Jamal got there first and grabbed the door, pulling it open for all of us to run through. My mind raced, coming up with all the terrible things that could have inspired Jenny to get up and run as fast as she apparently had. Canners? Sweepers? Murderers? I rounded the corner and my eyes fell on Peter. He was crouched down by the lobby desk, using the bushes outside as his shield.
    He saw me coming and waved me away; then he put his finger to his lips and pointed out the front windows.
    I held out my arms to keep anyone from going by me. “Shhhh, you guys. Calm down. Someone’s outside,” I whispered.
    “Who is it?” asked Ronald.
    “How am I supposed to know?” I whispered back, frowning back at him. “I can’t see around corners.”
    “Are they