"Hey, wake up," Sarah insisted. She was leaning over Joelle, gently shaking her and waving a bottle of orange juice.

"Yeah, I'm awake, what do you want?"

"Drink this, it'll make you feel better," Sarah said and shoved the bottle into her hands.

"How is orange juice going to make me feel better?"

"I laced it with four Tylenol and my last valium."

"You're too kind," Joelle said, shaking her head. She pinched her nose and swallowed the concoction of juice and pills. Finished, she handed Sarah the empty bottle and waited for the drugs to take effect. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to sort through the ammunition, have breakfast, and make your morning cocktail."

"Can you get us out of here?" Joelle begged.

"That depends on you," Sarah answered.

"Me? What can I do? I can't even walk on my own."

"No, but you sure blew the hell out of that door, not to mention half the walking dead on the streets. I always thought Graves was bullshitting me, but he was right, you've got a real talent."

"I left the bag outside. I need certain things to make explosives. I can't just conjure them out of thin air."

"What do you need? Maybe I can find something," Sarah interjected.

"Okay," Joelle sighed. "If you can find me some PVC piping, toilet bowl cleaner, plastic bottles with the caps, or potassium nitrate, we're in business, otherwise we're screwed."

"How about a shitload of black powder, would that work?" Sarah said, and showed her a glass filled ? full with the dark grains.

"Where did you get that?"

"I took it from the excess bullet rounds I couldn't use," Sarah told her. "So how about it, can you do it?"

Joelle grinned, "Count me in." She sat up in the bed. "I need a few things first though."

"Just name it and I'll get it."

"Get me a lighter, a screwdriver, a fuse or candle wick, a container that can be closed off, duct tape, and some toilet paper."

"You got it," Sarah replied. She produced a lighter and a screwdriver from her pocket and then went to a closed door at the far end of the room. "I found a bathroom here last night in case you need to go."

"No thanks, maybe later. And Sarah?"

"Yes?" She said, returning with a roll of toilet paper.

"Aren't we supposed to stay quiet?"

"Don't worry about it. Most of the zombies are downstairs and can't hear us. The few that made it up here are rotting in the other rooms. I checked before I woke you up. We just need a distraction to get us out of here and back to the car. Hey, how's this for a container?" Sarah bent over and picked up a two liter plastic Coke bottle.

"That works," Joelle said, and took the bottle from her. She used the screwdriver to make a hole in one side, then proceeded to stuff toilet paper down into the hole and jam the wad inside with the screwdriver, packing it tightly.

"Check my backpack for a fuse," Joelle demanded, then sighed. "Oh yeah, I left it on the street, dammit." She fished in her pocket and by luck discovered one there, but it was short. She stuffed the fuse into the hole she'd created with the screwdriver. "Hand me the black powder."

Sarah gave her what she wanted and watched in awe as Joelle stuffed the bottle full of the explosive material without spilling a single grain. Afterward, she put more toilet paper on top of the black powder and pushed it in with the screwdriver.

"I need some tape," Joelle said.

Sarah searched through her duffel bag. "I think I threw some tape in here when I raided that guy's storage haul. You should've seen the place downstairs. He has piles of canned food stacked to the ceiling and all sorts of domestic and international beer crammed into one room. I took a lot of the canned food but thought we could come back for the alcohol."

Joelle nodded, only half listening.

"Forget the duct tape. Just find some more bottles with caps on them and I'll make a few more of these. You know they won't cause much damage right?"

"That's fine. As long as we can distract those rotters outside we'll be okay."

They spent the remainder of the morning working together. Sarah quietly found and retrieved plastic bottles from an adjacent room while Joelle made the bombs. She couldn't find any more fuses so she had to rely on tearing apart her bra and using the scraps for wicks. She rubbed some black powder on the cloth fuses to aid in the ignition. After two hours they had eight explosives to use for their escape plan.

"They're ready," Joelle said, as she screwed the lid on the last homemade bomb. "When are we leaving?"

"You're staying here," Sarah told her.

"What?"

"You're going to throw a few of those bombs out the window to get the zombies to go outside, then, I'm going to run out while they're distracted and get the car."

Joelle's lower lip trembled. "But the car can't get here, remember? You won't leave me here will you?" Joelle grabbed onto Sarah and held on tight. "You can't leave me here to die, please."

Sarah shoved her away and straightened her jacket.

"I'm not leaving you," she said. "I'll get another car, park it close to the building, and come get you out of here. Did you honestly think you could crawl away from this place without getting bitten? Those things would tear you apart. This way, we'll just have to get you into the car."

Joelle wiped her eyes and sniffed.

"Pull yourself together, boss," Sarah demanded. "I need you to throw some of those explosives onto the street. Can you do that for me?" She huffed.

"Promise me," Joelle said, staring in her. "Promise me that you'll come back."

Sarah frowned and crossed her arms. "I'll return for you, I promise. But you have to trust me on this one, okay?"

Joelle nodded. She stacked the bombs near the windowsill and waited.

"Go ahead," she ordered. She never looked to see what type of expression Sarah wore on her face. She didn't know if this was going to be the last human company she would have before the zombies came for her and didn't want to ruin it if Sarah's expression contained even a hint of malice.

Sarah snatched the duffel bag, stuffed it with leftover food that was on the floor, and drew her handgun. She watched as Joelle squeaked open the window, lit the cloth fuse, and dropped a bomb outside.

For a moment, nothing happened. The zombies continued to shuffle outside and crows were cawing far away. When the blast came it sent a loud BOOM echoing down the haunted streets.

Joelle waited for the hungry flesh eaters to congregate to the side of the building before she dropped another one.

"See you later," Sarah said, and slammed the door behind her.

"Later . . ."

The sounds of Sarah's gun blasting through the zombie horde downstairs made Joelle cringe. She lit another bomb, tossed it out the window and waited. Sarah's gunshots got further and further away and eventually disappeared altogether.

Joelle heard shuffling feet outside the door. She curled up into a tight ball and covered her mouth, hoping they didn't find her.

Fingernails scratched on the wooden frame, cracking and breaking off in an attempt to gain entrance.

Joelle whimpered. A moment later, her bomb outside exploded.

The rotters outside her door dragged themselves downstairs. She could hear hundreds, maybe even thousands of them milling around the building, searching for the maker of the loud noise.

Joelle rocked herself on the bed. She tried to block out the worry rising in her stomach by focusing on the pain surrounding her broken ankle. In the Old World, such an injury would require only a cast and a few months of recovery. Now, such an accident could cost her life. She would lack speed now, one of the few advantages she had over the living dead, and that alone would make her weak, and the Marauders didn't tolerate weakness. If she couldn't keep up with them she would be left behind, much like Sarah had left her. She couldn't blame Sarah for leaving her. Sarah was a survivor and wanted to live. In the back of Joelle's mind, she actually believed Sarah would return any minute pounding on the car horn and running upstairs to rescue her.

"I'm such an idiot," Joelle sobbed, and buried her head in her hands.

From outside of the room came a guttural groan. Joelle gasped. They had found her. The zombie beat on the door; others soon joined it.

Joelle gathered the rest of the homemade bombs and began tying the fuses together. She would only have one chance to escape and not a very good one at that.

The door bulged inward and cracked as countless rotting bodies slammed against it.

Joelle finished uniting the fuses. She searched the room, begging God or the Fates - or anyone else who might be listening - for a gun, but Sarah had taken all the weapons, leaving her to her own devices.

She used the nightstand by the table to stand. If she was going to die she'd do it on two feet or one if she had to. The nightstand would provide her with the support she needed to face her opponents and a bludgeon as well if it came to that.

The wooden frame cracked and splintered as dozens of eager hands broke through the bedroom door.

Joelle lit the single fuse to the collection of bombs and tossed it at them. The explosives landed halfway across the room. Joelle cursed herself. She should've thrown it farther.

The zombies poured inside, clawing their way to her.

"Come on . . ." she willed the bombs to ignite.

The zombies stumbled over the explosives and continued shuffling forward. A moment later, the black powder exploded and blasted the horde apart, sending rotting flesh and bone chips into the air. Unfortunately, the explosion hadn't killed them. Relentless, the survivors dragged themselves toward their prey.

Joelle advanced. She hopped on her good foot and bashed the closest zombie with the nightstand. Her objective wasn't to kill the walking corpse but to push it backward so that it would knock the others over. When the nightstand connected she pushed with all her might and succeeded in toppling the zombie over, it in turn brought three others down with it.

Joelle hopped over the corpses, wary of their snapping jaws. She made it through the door and into the hallway without much difficulty. The major problem she faced was the staircase, but once she made it to the lower level and out on the street she'd be free.

A group of zombies appeared from behind her. They lurched out of an adjacent bedroom and pushed each other to reach her first.

Joelle jolted them back with the nightstand, knocking all three down. She hopped toward the staircase, and grabbed at the banister for support. In her effort to get down the first few steps she dropped the nightstand. The wooden piece of furniture tumbled end over end until it landed at the bottom of the stairs.

"Dammit!" She cursed.

The zombies she'd knocked over were now on their feet again, and headed straight for her.

Joelle hopped down the stairs faster, taking them two at a time. She could smell the rancid odor from the rotters as they slowly dragged themselves after her. One of them slipped and toppled down the stairs. Joelle watched him roll past her and was relieved when she heard a satisfying snap as his head was twisted around, stilling any further movement.

When Joelle reached the lower floor she paused and drew in a quick breath.

Zombies, hundreds of them, were packed inside the building, blocking every available exit and killing any hope of escape. Vacant eyes locked onto her, hungry, relentless eyes, waiting to see her torn limb from limb.

Joelle had always feared she'd become one of the walking dead, but knew at that moment it would never occur. The undead would tear her apart, devouring every inch of her body until there was nothing left. She wouldn't be reanimated. She was going to be a red blemish on the floor in a minute, and nothing more of her would remain.

The sound of a noisy engine outside drowned out the zombies' cries for her flesh.

"Sarah . . ." Joelle whispered. She had to get outside. If Sarah saw her she would turn around and take her away from this hideous place.

Joelle hopped toward the door. She looked for something on the floor to use to beat the zombies back but found nothing. The door was too far away for her to get to and the zombie horde was getting closer. She had lost. There was no escape, only pain and death. She bunched her hands into tiny fists and waited. If she was going to die here, she'd go down swinging.

The roar of a car engine reaching maximum velocity made her heart flutter. Through the front windows she could make out a red truck headed her way. Sarah had come back for her. Now she just had to manage to live long enough until she got outside.

The truck increased speed. The way it was going it would crash through the faade of the Liberty building, taking dozens of the flesh eaters with it, and her as well.

"Shit, what the hell are you doing, Sarah?" She snapped, and headed back to the staircase. She was halfway back when the red truck broke through the front of the building, sending bricks and shards of glass flying into the zombie horde. The truck came to a halt at the back wall with smoke billowing from its smashed hood.

The zombies were momentarily stunned. They stared at the truck as though not comprehending where it had come from.

Sarah leapt out from the driver's seat. At first she wobbled, unsure of her footing, then seconds later she'd recovered from the crash enough to draw her handgun.

"I'm baaaack," she sing-songed. "Did you miss me you rotting sacks of shit?"

The rotters came at her together, groaning after her warm flesh, and Sarah fired. Each bullet broke apart a skull and thinned the crowd. She made her way to the staircase and was shocked to see Joelle looking back at her.

"Watch out!" Sarah screamed over the gunfire and hungry moans.

Joelle felt a skeletal hand grip her shoulder. She spun around in time to witness the zombies who'd followed her down the stairs reaching for her. Joelle slapped the decomposing hand away and punched her attacker's face. Her fist sunk in, breaking the zombie's nose and frontal lobe. She withdrew her hand from the mess of broken cartilage and bone, and the zombie toppled over in defeat. Not this time.

Joelle ignored the others as she hopped toward the truck. Bullets whined past her head, slamming into the pack of zombies catching up to her.

Sarah waved her to move faster. "Hurry up, I'm running out of bullets," she said, and fired three more rounds before her pistol landed on an empty chamber.

Joelle shoved two zombies out of her way and made it to Sarah.

"Get inside the truck," Sarah ordered. She opened the driver's side one handed and slammed the butt of her gun into the head of a fat faced zombie with the other.

Joelle climbed inside and slammed the door.

The zombies swarmed the truck, rocking it back and forth in an attempt to flip it over.

Joelle discovered a shotgun on the vehicle's floor and picked it up. She rolled down the window and fired point blank at a decomposing head. The shotgun's retort destroyed the zombie and the one close behind it. She fired another round, this time aiming for the crowd. Buckshot flew everywhere, lodging into the zombies but doing little to slow them down.

Sarah tossed her pistol onto Joelle's lap, "Load my gun, there's bullets in the glove compartment."

Joelle emptied another round into the encroaching zombie horde before opening the compartment.