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Expand MallZombies III: The Zombies Bite Back Table of Contents
 
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This is a total and complete work of fiction, taken straight from the obviously disturbed minds of two fan fic writers. Seriously, you shouldn't want to say this is yours. Really. Gin belongs to herself. I belong to me, though the Muses like to tell me that I don't.

There are bunches of pop culture references going on in this one, ranging from music to television to movies. We don't own any of the recognizable characters, songs and content that you might find in here. They all belong to their respective creators and we're simply borrowing them here because we can. And because we're being silly and it fits. We'll put them back when we're done, though they might be a little sticky when we do. Please don't sue. No money.

Also. Dude. Props to Mel Brooks. The man is genius.
 
MallZombies III: The Zombies Bite Back
Chapter 1 of 1
Expand Author's Story Note
 

"Let me the fuck out of here!"

Thump! Thump! Thump!

"Let me the fuck out of here right now! Otherwise your dead, sister! D'ya hear me? Dead?"

Thump! Thump! Thump!

I sighed and glared at nothing in particular. Here it was Halloween and we were spending it in a fucking laundromat. How craptastic was that? "Open the fucking door! Its hot as shit in here!" The masculine voice sounded as if it was utterly displeased.

"Shut up or I'll pour gas on your plastic ass and see if it melts!" I snapped back. A woman coming through the door gave me a funny look, then promptly turned and hurried out toward her car. The sound of her engine revving was a sad statement on the evening. Gin giggled faintly.

"You scare more people off that way," she told me.

"Well, gee. Thanks for the news flash." I ignored the low pitched voice chanting out a curse and turned to look at her. "How the hell did it come to this?"

"The little bastard followed us home and camped out in the neighbor's yard. It was kind of funny seeing him try to dry hump that garden gnome." Gin smiled at me. I shot her a glare before giving in and chuckling.

"Damn thing will never be the same. He wore a hole in its ass."

"That gnome was asking for it, bitches! Now let me out of this fucking thing." Thump! Thump! Thump! I shook my head and frowned.

"You traumatized that gnome, Chucky. We'll be lucky if he doesn't sue us for physical and emotional damages. Now shut up and melt like a good psycho doll is supposed to." I told him. For good measure, I pounded my fist down against the metal of the doll's prison.

"Open the door of this dryer and I'll show you traumatized. I've got wood for you." Thump! Thump! Thump!

"You've got wood? You're made of plastic. Maybe you've got a couple of marbles in your shorts, but you've got nothing either one of us want or need." Gin shook her head. "I'd say we leave now, but we can't leave that little peckerhead in there unchaperoned. The first person to open that door would be in such trouble."

"The laundromat on Halloween. That just sucks little plastic ones."

"This isn't so bad. Be glad we aren't at the mall again this year." Gin grinned at me. She knew how I felt about the mall and Halloween. Strange things always happened at the mall on Halloween. Fortunately for us, we had no plans on stepping foot inside the mall this year. I was waiting for Christmas. I hadn't heard anything about zombie elves and a Santa last year. Christmas had to be okay.

"The mall sucks big green ones."

"Give me a can of spray paint and I'll give you a big green one!" Chucky called. A choking sound drew our attention around to the doorway. A woman stood there, staring at the two of us as if we were possessed. No, honey. That was the local Cabbage Patch at midnight. The nervous patron took a few steps into the place. "Let me out of here, bitch! I swear I'm going to gut you when I get out."

The woman blinked. "Where is that coming from? I think maybe you, uh, left something in one of the machines."

Gin feigned a look of confusion for a few seconds until the heavy sound of the doll thumping around inside the dryer filled the air. "Oopsie! I must have forgotten to check the pockets. Must be Freddie's cell phone."

"Freddie?"

"Yeah. He's such a dream. Figured I'd wash his shit before I chuck it out on the lawn."  I almost choked on my laughter. As it was, I had to turn and pay more attention to the television bolted to the wall or I'd start rolling on the floor. Ew. Seriously. Have you ever seen the floors in a laundromat? As if this was a common place event, Gin went on without regard for how the other woman was taking it all. My friend looked at me. "Have you ever seen him try to dial his phone? Don't think the man has ever seen a pair of nail clippers."

The woman twitched. Okay. So maybe Halloween in a laundromat wasn't so bad after all. Gin sighed and made like she was trying to see the bright side of things. "At least he doesn't pick his nose in public."

The woman jibbered just a little bit. Okay. It was time to play along. "How do you know?" I asked, as if I was really interested.

"Because he'd be less of a pain in the ass if he'd given himself a lobotomy." The door swished shut loudly. I turned to see that the woman was trying to let herself into her car. Chuckling, I turned to look at Gin.

"That was fun. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all."

"And when we're done here, there's that Halloween party we have to go to. Did you get everything for your costume?" Gin took a seat on one of the benches and stared at the TV screen. Chucky was too quiet, but I ignored it and settled beside her.

"Yeah. I'm going as a normal person. You know. Regular clothes and all that."

"That's a lame costume, woman. Wear something that will wow them," Gin sighed.

"You just want to see my cleavage again. I got brains and shit in it last year. No thanks."

"That won't happen this year. Remember? No mall. No zombies."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." I pointed at the TV. Gin turned to look and ended up muttering a curse under her breath. The reporter was perfectly coifed and made up, sitting behind a desk. A live feed image hanging in the space to the right of the anchor's head showed the mall. The camera was inside, near the center of the mall. People were running and screaming, looks of terror on their faces. The reporter who'd obviously been on location was nowhere to be seen. Maybe that explained the few speckles of blood that decorated the camera's lens. A lone zombie was shuffling toward the camera, moaning out its demand for food.

The voice of the in studio reporter came on, covering up the screams and moans. "This is not a Halloween prank. Actual zombies have been spotted at the mall. So far, we have no official numbers on the dead and there doesn't seem to be anyone who is handling this situation. But there are children in the mall for the yearly trip from one shop to the next, trick or treating in safety. Again, we here at channel five wish to repeat that this is not a prank. There are real zombies at the mall. We strongly urge you to avoid the mall entirely."

"Shit. That means every idiot for miles is going to be at the mall, hoping to catch a glimpse of the zombies." Gin muttered a curse under her breath.

"Ha! Take that, bitches! Let me out of the fucking dryer and we'll go off some zombies together." Thump! Thump! Thump!

"How about we leave you in there until your plastic ding dongs melt?" Another patron came and went in the blink of an eye. There was no laughter this time. Gin turned and looked at me. "We need to go take care of this. No one else is qualified to fight zombies at the mall."

"No. We've done it for two years and no one said thanks. I'm not putting my neck on the line for those ungrateful fucks again." I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at her. "Not happening."

"Let me out and I'll thank you properly." Thump! Thump! Thump!

"Shut the fuck up, Chucky! Or I'll see if there are any of those bunny slippers left from last year. You know how long it took to get that junk out of your hair last Halloween." There was a moment of nothing, then an agreeing grumble came from the dryer. Assured that he was going to be quiet for at least a few minutes, I gave my attention back to Gin. "Let them fend for themselves this year."

"Children, girl. There are children in the mall."

"You know I hate children. Noisy, annoying, snotty brats who misbehave constantly."

"Imagine those noisy, annoying, snotty brats after they've been turned into zombies." Oh, that wasn't playing fair. Gin was definitely hitting below the belt. I frowned at her, prompting a smile. She knew she had me. "Let's get going. The sooner we fend off the newest zombie horde, the sooner we can hit the Halloween party."

"I just want to say that I'm doing this under duress."

"Fine. You've said it. Let's go." Gin was already on her way toward the door. I sighed and turned to follow her. The dryer took that precise moment to end its cycle. There was one final thump! from the machine, then the door flew open and the doll that had been inside came flying by me. Chucky's bright red hair stuck up in all directions and his clothes looked as if they'd perhaps shrunk a little. Oddly, there was a fuzzy pink fluff on his ass.

What the hell?

"Where did that thing fucking come from?"

"What thing?" Gin stopped. I merely pointed at the slipper humping away at the doll's butt. She watched as Chucky ran by and caught sight of the bunny. Gin sighed and shook her head.

"Probably the same place all those lost socks go. Stop gawking and get moving. Those zombies aren't getting any fresher."

"Fresh zombies. Now there's an oxymoron if I ever heard one." Keys in hand, I followed her out the door.

~*~*~*~*~

Naturally, the lot was full. Everyone had obviously seen the report on the news, so they'd all come down to stare at the zombies like they were at the zoo. Maybe they were going to throw their friends into the shuffling crowds and see if the undead really ate brains or not. All that meant for us was that it was going to be an assload more difficult to actually get in there and kill the sons of bitches. And we had to walk a fucking quarter mile just to get to the door. The night was not shaping up very well.

"Do we need to collect stuff to make a ZombieBlaster In A Box kit?" Gin asked as we climbed from the car. "I don't want to go in there unarmed yet again. Its such a pain to try and collect everything. And I don't want to have to run the risk of those perfume bitches trying to spray us again."

"Well, here's hoping that they've turned to dust by now." I used the fob on my key chain to pop the trunk, then moved to the back of the car. Pushing up the trunk lid revealed a pair of those cloth shoulder bags that school kids liked to use instead of a normal backpack. I took one out and flipped back the flap, then showed her the contents. There was a staple gun with a box of staples to refill with, an industrial sized bottle of Gold Bond powder, some hairspray, cheap mouth wash with a high alcohol content, a box of matches and some perfume. Gin blinked at that. "What? I don't want to come out of there smelling to high heaven. Zombie guts can really put a damper on the mood."

"What exactly is all this?" She motioned with one hand to the bag still in the trunk, as well as to a pair of battery powered chainsaws.

"I keep a ZombieBlaster kit in the trunk now. And I added Gold Bond. In case those girls are back again this year."

"Expecting the zombie apocalypse?"

"It never hurts to be prepared." She shot me a look that suggested she was concerned about me. I merely shrugged back. "But if there are any zombie Rogues this year, all bets are off."

"I don't think you need to worry about them." After returning everything to the bag, I slipped it over my shoulder and reached for the chainsaw. Gin scooped up her own and checked the charge on the saw. There was no need to worry. I'd charged them before leaving the house. Nodding in readiness, Gin turned and started for the door. I shut the trunk and followed.

After a five minute walk from the very outer edges of the lot, we made it to the doors just in time to see a pair of teens come running out. They were screaming at the top of their lungs. I made sure to check as they went past. There were no little pink blurs humping away at any part of their anatomy. That was a relief. Gin and I paused at the door and took a look inside to see if there were any zombies close by. Fortunately for us, I didn't see any shambling undead heading our way. If they got out of the mall... I didn't even want to think about it.

"Are you ready?" Gin asked, fingers curled around the door's handle.

"Let's go kick some zombie ass." I nodded. Just as she pulled on the door, a hand reached out over our heads to slap against the frame, keeping it from opening. I turned to look at whoever was behind us and had to do a double take. "What the hell?"

Gin stared at me. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" I looked back at the men behind us and nodded. "Are we hallucinating?"

"I don't think so. If we are, we're both hallucinating the same thing." I frowned and shook my head. "This isn't right. They shouldn't be here. This is the wrong god damned fandom."

"Why the hell not?" Gin asked, then glanced at them. "If we can have zombies at the mall for three years running, we can have the Winchesters here to help fight the fucking zombies." She and I looked at Sam and Dean again. The two of them were watching us as if they were waiting for something particular to happen. What the hell was it about this mall? I was willing to bet that this kind of shit didn't happen at other malls.

"Fine," I sighed. "But if the angels show up to deal with things, I'm so out of here. Angels in the mall. That's just weird." I reached for the next door, intent on opening it. Another hand clamped down on the frame to prevent me from doing that. I turned to stare at Sam and Dean. "Let go of the door. We have business to take care of inside."

"Trust me, ladies. You do not want to go in there." Dean was doing his best to sound as if he knew everything. Maybe he knew a fair bit about monsters in his world, but I was willing to bet he'd never encountered a MallZombie before.

"You're right. We don't." Gin replied.

"So why don't you just get in your car and drive away?" This was from Sam. Maybe they'd missed the fact that we were carrying chainsaws.

"Because all the other zombie hunters will laugh at me if I leave without popping a few walking corpses." With this, Gin lifted the chainsaw and made sure that they got a good look at it.

I smirked at her. "I know I will."

"You'd sell pictures," she accused. The smirk became a full on grin.

"Hell, honey. I'd post it to You Tube." I gave my attention back to the two men. "Gonna take your hands off the door or am I going to have to go into bitch mode here? I want to get this over and done with. Fucking MallZombies. I hate the fuckers with a passion. Three years now. Three! Last year I ended up with zombie guts and shit in my cleavage. That's such a nasty feeling."

Dean's gaze dipped. Yeah. Guys tended to do that around me. After a few seconds, he found my face again. "You should really let us go in there. We're professionals."

"Yeah, yeah." I waved a hand at him in dismissal. "You may be heap big monster slayers, but you're on our turf now. And you aren't going in there without us. So quit being macho and get the fuck out of our way."

"Sister, there are brain eating zombies inside. We aren't going to let you go in there and get munched on." He was starting to get belligerent. "You and your friend wait out here and let us go deal with the zombies."

"First off," Gin began. "Do not say brains around them. It only stirs them up into a frenzy. Secondly, she's right. This is our turf. We know these zombies. We don't go in, you don't go in."

"We just want to make sure that no one else gets hurt. Zombies are dangerous and it takes a trained professional to handle them." Sam tried for reason. Gin held her hand up and brought his speech to a halt.

"You don't get it. We know these zombies. MallZombies are a special breed. You go in with us or not at all. There is no discussion. There is no arguing."

I glanced from one man to the next. "You'll need us to help you get out alive. The mall is not for the faint of heart. Make a decision and do it fast. You're wasting valuable time." Silence fell over the four of us.

I looked at Gin. She shrugged. She didn't know what the hell was going on, either. But we waited while both Winchesters shared a look and came to a conclusion all at once. Sighing, the boys removed their hands from the doors. The looks on their faces suggested that they were unhappy about this and really hadn't wanted to give in to us. Tough titties. We knew more about the zombies we were up against than they were. They'd deal or they could go home.

After I molested Dean and stole the Impala from him.

We were greeted with the sound of Halloween type music being piped in over the mall's public address system. Ooo. that was original. Recalling last year, I started scanning windows to see if there were any glowing red eyes watching us. Fortunately, it seemed as if we were free of satanic pink bunny slippers from hell. Maybe we wouldn't need any of the Gold Bond this time around. As yet, we couldn't hear any screaming or moaning, but that didn't mean a damned thing. For some reason, the zombies liked to congregate in the center of the mall.

"So what's in the bag?" Sam asked.

"Zombie hunting kit."

"Shot guns?" Dean hefted the green duffel he used to carry what they'd need on a hunt.

I shot a look at him. "In a mall? Are you out of your mind? You don't use shot guns on zombies in the mall. That's just asking for trouble."

"Then what do you use on the zombies?"

"Chainsaws. Duh."

"Then what's in the bag?" Sighing, I stopped and flipped my bag open. One hand lifted each item out."Hairspray, mouth wash, matches, staple gun, staples, perfume and Gold Bond."

The two men glanced at one another. I could tell that they thought we were as cracked as we thought they were. One of Sam's eyebrows went up. Dean shrugged and made a motion with his head. Sam sighed. Looked like the younger brother got to ask the obvious question. "So... uh... I get the whole hairspray as flame throwers and chainsaw thing. But what is the foot powder for?"

"Its the Holy Bond Grenade," Gin replied. I closed the flap on my bag.

They blinked in response to her answer. "The what?" Sam sounded confused. Oh, right. They'd never had to deal with wanna be witches who'd conjured an army of demonic pink bunny slippers with humping on the mind.

"If you see anything pink and fluffy and horny, you'll want some. Trust me." Gin told them. I nodded my head at the logic in her reply. The two of them were staring at us as if we should have been locked up in a padded room while wearing a jacket that gave us lots of hugs. One of the doors behind us opened and a short figure ran into the mall.

"Get off me, you horny little son of a bitch!" Chucky came running past. His hair still stuck up all over the place and now he was wearing a pair of the slippers. One humped at his ass while the other was going at the back of his head. I pointed after him as he raced past.

"That." Then I looked at Gin. "There was only one before. Where did the other one come from?"

"They're bunnies. You know how they are."

"Fuckers. I guess we should be glad that they aren't zombie bunny slippers."

"Shut your mouth. You know that we'll be up to our ears in those now."

"Sorry." A look at Sam and Dean showed they were staring with wide eyes. Apparently, they'd never seen a child's toy possessed by the spirit of a psychotic killer who was having his ass and head raped by a pair of bright pink, fuzzy bunny slippers.

"Sammy, what the hell is going on here?" Dean asked, glancing around at the shops. "Where are we? This is like one of those jokes Trickster likes to play."

"I don't know, Dean. I've never encountered anything like this before."

"Where are the zombies?" Dean demanded, sounding as if he was losing patience.

"Center of the mall. That's usually where they gather." Gin pointed up the hallway in the direction that Chucky had gone. Assured that they'd get to kill something soon, the Winchesters fell into step with us as we began the long trek toward the very center of the building.

"I wonder if they ever got the brains off that banner?" I wondered idly.

"Real thing was better."

"Still... One of these times, I'd like some thanks from the people who own the mall. Cos, you know, its impossible to get brains out of clothing once they set in."

"If you didn't take your work so seriously..." Gin began. I was sure that the two men behind us were ready to throttle us or something. So what? This was out hunt. They'd have to wait for the fun to begin. We had just reached the center hallway when a scream rang out over our heads. We looked up to find a buxom blonde leaning over the railing on the second level. "Oh, for the love of... Is that who I think that is."

"Yup," I nodded, taking in the shiny white plastic uniform she was wearing. "It is. Hello Nurse!" As if hearing her name was all she needed, she turned and ran in the opposite direction of the center. A good handful of zombies began shambling after her. That was odd. There seemed to be quite a few zombies on the upper levels. "Maybe we should go up and investigate."

"Yes. We need to go up and investigate. That woman needs our help," Dean couldn't keep the eagerness out of his voice. I caught him looking at his brother. "What do you say, Sammy? Should we go up there and help her?"

"Definitely."  Almost before Sam had finished agreeing with his brother, the two of them were gone.

"You know, there really isn't any need to go save her," I called after them, though I'm sure they didn't hear a word I said. They were intent on helping the blonde. "The zombies have been trying to eat her for three years. We keep trying to tell them that they can't eat silicone, but they never listen."

"Neither do the Winchesters." Gin commented. She was busy looking at the upper level. We still hadn't heard screams, which made me wonder where all of the people belonging to those cars were. But there were moans to be heard coming from the upper level. Weird. The zombies hadn't been on the second story of the mall last year. Then again, most of them had been Rogue zombies and they'd had fewer brains than the others. "I think we need to go check out the shops upstairs."

"Yeah. There are an awful lot of undead up there." I glanced in the direction the Winchesters had gone. "Suppose they'll be okay on their own?"

"Let them play. You know they want to feel all manly and stuff." Gin was already on her way to the closest escalator. I shrugged and followed after her. Chances were good they wouldn't find any zombies down that way anyway. All that was down that way was a travel agent, a Glamour Shots and a candle place. Maybe a kid's clothing store and a shoe place. I didn't think the zombies were planning on traveling or anything.

Upstairs, the moaning was louder. Zombies were inside stores, begging for brains from the mannequins. Wow. The pickings must have been slim if they were trying to eat the heads off the mannequins. But the minute they saw us, the started shuffling toward the entrances of the shops. Gin was ready to fire up her chainsaw, but I stopped her. "Let the heroes get them. We know where the majority of them can be found."

She shrugged and kept walking. So far, we hadn't found any bodies or pools of blood or bits of brains, which was weird. But there could be an easy explanation for that. Like last year, when nearly all of the living people had been in the center of the mall. Could be they were there again. If they were, that meant most of the zombies were there. That would make it easier for us to kill them and easier for the cleaning crew to mop up the mess.

"Um..." Gin's voice startled me out of my thoughts of zombies being chewed up by the teeth on my chainsaw. I turned to find her looking really contemplative. "Can I change my character class now?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I asked, thrown off by the sudden, and weird, change of subject.

"If Sam and Dean are playing monster hunters... I want to turn in my zombie hunter sheet and play sexy damsel in distress." I sighed. This so wasn't the time to be thinking about that.

"No way." I shook my head at her, then shot her a smirk. "Besides, I've already got that covered."

Gin regarded me for a moment, then gave me her own smirk. "Fine. Dibs on Sam!"

I shook my head again. "I can't take you any fucking where."

We were about to round the corner and head into the food court to see what was happening when a zombie came shuffling along. It looked as if it was about thirty years past its expiration date with one arm partially gone and a few ribs poking through here and there on its torso. I was about to bring up the chainsaw and take its head off, but the damn thing tripped on one of its toes and went face first into my cleavage. It started rooting around, trying to get its mouth around my flesh. Lucky for me, it didn't seem to have any teeth. I sighed and looked at Gin. She was laughing.

"Those aren't brains. You have to get your face out of there." She reached out and took hold of the thing's shoulders, then heaved it away from me. It stumbled and fell into a fake plant. Something small and round and dry dropped out of the remain of its pants. Oh gross.

Time to make a joke or I was going to blow chunks and ruin my bad ass zombie killer reputation. "Wow. Finally. A man more interested in my brains than my boobs."

Gin chuckled. "Unfortunately, he's dead. And he smells bad."

"Well, you can't have everything." But seriously. Ew. What was it about zombies and my boobs? I reached into my bag and found the perfume, then sprayed my chest with it. It didn't do much to hide the fresh from the grave a century ago odor that the zombie had left on me. "Do you think we'd get in trouble if we stopped into one of the stores and picked up a clean shirt for me? Because this thing smells of zombie now. I'll never get that stink out."

"Wait until we're done. We're going to get dirty."

Gin and I stared at each other, the look on her face insisting that waiting was best. I heaved a sigh and shook my head. "Alright. Fine. Let's go. But I don't think the perfume will cover this stink."

"With all these zombies hanging around, who'll notice?" she asked. Hmmm. She had a point. I shrugged and fell into step with her as we rounded the corner and found ourselves in the food court. There were zombies milling around a few of the tables, a couple of them holding trays. They didn't seem too interested in us, but it was obvious no one had said the "B" word yet. Still, the night was young and anything could happen.

We were saved from the odor of decay by the scents of various hot and freshly fried foods that wafted from nearly every food counter in the place. The luscious smell of fries fought with pizza and Chinese and a dozen other things and each one started my tummy rumbling. Damn it. I knew I'd forgotten to do something. Maybe I could snag a few Cinnabons before we left. And maybe the pope shit in the woods.

"Damn," Gin's voice startled me. I turned to find her staring at one place in particular. There were no zombies milling around the counter but the guy manning the register looked oddly familiar. She started walking toward the counter so I followed after. "I could so go for a corn dog right now."

I frowned at that, then looked at the menu board hung behind the register. Nowhere did it say anything about using one hundred percent beef in their dogs. "Deep fried mystery meat? Are you kidding me? For all we know, it could be ground up zombie nuts in those things. Besides. Didn't we go through this before? Rule number two!"

"Forget rule number two. Those rules are no longer valid." She waved a hand at me in negation as she came to a stop before the counter. I shook my head. How could the rules not apply anymore? There were fucking zombies in the mall! Again! They kept coming back. The rules had to apply somewhere. "And its a proven fact that deep frying anything destroys supernatural diseases, curses, and taints."

I crossed my arms and leaned a hip up against the top edge of the stainless steel counter. "Uh-huh. And where did you hear that?"

She held up a wrapper that had been left on the counter top. "It says it right here."

"Right. Fine. Get a corn dog. But make it quick. We have some mayhem to engage in. Those zombies won't kill themselves," I reminded her.

"Can I help you ladies?" This came from the guy behind the counter. I turned to stare at him and blinked, then blinked again and did a double take. Standing there, waiting patiently on us, was a hunchback with a hump. He wore all black, including the hood of the cape he wore that covered his head. The chorus from an old parody song rolled through my head. She's got Marty Feldman eyes. The man was a dead ringer for Marty Feldman as Igor in Young Frankenstein.

It couldn't be. It just couldn't. My gaze shifted so that I could look at the shiny gold and white name tag pinned to his shirt. Sure enough, the name that was on it was Igor. I looked up at his face again and found him waiting expectantly, as if he knew what was coming. Who was I to disappoint him? "You must be Igor." I made sure to pronounce it ee-gore.

He smiled and shook his head. "No. Its pronounced eye-gore." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gin's lips twitch. She'd been waiting for it to happen, too. I did my best to hold back my laughter, tried to force a stern look onto my face. It didn't want to go.

"But they told me it was ee-gore."

"Well, they were wrong then, weren't they?" Even the inflection in his tone matched the movie note for note. I laughed out loud and watched as the man's smile grew. Seconds later, a stern looking woman with a prunish face and an harsh bun joined us from the back of the shop. A large mole sat on the right side of her face, under the corner of her mouth. She was dressed rather matronly and pursed her lips at us sourly.

"Is there a problem, Igor?" she asked. Though it was only a short sentence, it was easy to hear the not quite authentic German accent. Igor shook his head. I read her name tag and almost lost it right then and there.

"No. No problem."

"Then I suggest you get back to vork."

"Ja wohl!" he saluted. Turning back to us, he took his place behind the register. "Can I get you ladies something?"

"On second thought, I think I'll pass," Gin replied and looked at me. "I don't think I'm all that hungry after all. Let's go. We've got work to do."

"Right." I nodded and watched as she walked away from the counter. I followed for a few footsteps, then stopped and glanced back at the counter. Igor still stood there, watching us almost expectantly. His supervisor was only a few steps from him. I couldn't hold it in any longer. I had to do it. "Blücher!" I said loudly enough that they both heard me. The woman shot me one of her patented sour looks.

Somewhere in the mall, horses whinnied.

When I caught back up to Gin, she was frowning at me. "What?"

"I can't take you anywhere." She shook her head and motioned toward an empty space at the railing. It was a silent indication that we should check out the lay of the land. It was hard to hear anything over the cheesy Halloween music playing over the PA, so there was no way of knowing if there were zombies below us. It seemed more than likely. They tended to avoid the large chains because what zombie had enough taste to steal from Macy's? Also, last I'd heard, no one had rebuilt the Hello, Kitty store.

We hadn't taken more than a handful of steps when Gin reached out and laid a hand on my arm, effectively bringing me to a halt. I glanced at her. "Whoa."

"What?"

"Did you see that?" she asked, then shook her head. "Never mind."

"See what?" I asked, then glanced around. Nothing seemed out of place. The zombies in the food court were still milling around the same table, still carrying their trays.

"I've been at this zombie shit too long." I had to agree. This was the third year we'd done this and I felt we'd been at it too long that first year.

"What did you see?"

"Nothing." Gin sounded disgusted. I was about to give her a ration of shit for making me worry about some new, weirder thing when I noticed some small thing wiggling mindlessly across the floor. What the ever loving fuck?

"Hold it." I pointed to where the bit moved. "What the fuck is that?" Gin's eyes followed in the direction that my hand was pointing.

"Its not a half eaten corn dog inch worming its way across the food court. Because that's just too fucking ridiculous to be possible."

I looked at her as if I'd never seen her before. "Pam Anderson is too fucking ridiculous to be possible. That's a fucking zombie wiener on a stick. That is a sad statement as to what our lives have become. Fighting zombies in the mall on Halloween. All the most stylish zombies congregate in cemeteries. We get the fucking idiot patrol zombies."

"That's racist," Gin informed me. "I'm sure zombies have feelings, too. And no doubt they hate being called fucking idiot patrol zombies."

"They're in a mall. How fucking smart do you think they are?"

"I say they're plenty smart." I lifted a brow at her, inviting her to prove me wrong. Everyone knew that zombies ate other people's brains because they didn't have any of their own. "Fine. Just have the chainsaw ready in case its needed." I lifted my chainsaw and followed her toward the nearest zombie. When she was close enough to touch it without it being able to grab her or anything, she tapped it on the shoulder. Together, we watched as it slowly turned itself to face us. "I have a joke for you."

"Brrrraaaaiiiinnnnsssss?"

"Knock knock."

The zombie frowned for a second or two. "Brrrraaaaiiinnnnsss?"

"Dead on."

"Brrrrraaaaiiiinnnnssss?"

"Dead on arrival."

"Brrrraaaaiiiinnnnnssss!" it moaned, then turned away from us to face the table again.

"The zombie didn't like it much. It was a sucky joke." I didn't like it, either. Apparently the zombie and I had the same taste in knock knock jokes.

"Its all about context," Gin told me.

"Riiiight."

"In any other context, it'd be a lame joke. But because there are zombies here..." she began. I shook my head at her.

"Zombies or not, its still a lame joke."

Gin sighed and gave a slight nod. "So's the price they charge for those damned corn dogs."

"There aren't that many zombies up here. We need to find out where they're all at and plan our attack accordingly." To emphasize my statement, I motioned to the few zombies hanging out in the food court. She nodded and, together, we made our way to the railing, some distance from the zombies. Just in case. Glancing down, we found we'd been right. A large bunch of zombies seemed to be shuffling aimlessly around the large open area directly below us. "So what's the best course of action?"

"We go down there with the chainsaws and kick zombie ass." Gin's tone suggested I should already know this. Probably she was right. But one never knew when the plan changed.

"We gonna go down the escalator?" Last year, the zombies hadn't been able to figure out how to navigate the moving stairs. This year, they didn't even seem to notice the escalator. It was like they were waiting for something. Weird. Made me wonder what that something was. It looked like they were all in costume, too. Double weird.

"I don't know. They can see us coming and you never know how they're going to react." She sounded as if she was deep in her thoughts. Probably she'd noticed the strangeness of this bunch of zombies. Strangeness that had been evidenced by a zombie trying to answer a knock knock joke. "Maybe we should head down to Sears and take the elevator they have down to the first floor."

"Could take the stairs."

"Elevator is easier with the chainsaws."

"Six of one, half a dozen of the other." I frowned and glanced again at the zombies. Maybe they were acting the way they were because there were no living people in the mall? Except, there was Gin and I. And the Winchesters. What the hell was going on this year?

It didn't appear that Gin was in any hurry to leave so I stood there with her and kept an eye on the zombies below us. Her voice startled me out of my thoughts on weird zombies. "I have recurring fantasies of blowing Sammy in the backseat while Dean drives us off into the sunset."

I turned to look at her, blinking in response to her sudden announcement. "Yeah? So what am I doing?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Kinda busy with the whole giving head thing. Do whatever the hell you want."

Hmmm. Whatever I want. That sounded awesome. "So... What? I can jump Dean?"

She turned to look at me. "You think he can handle you and the wheel at the same time?"

He was Dean Winchester. He could do just about anything. At least, that's what I thought. But she was the one dreaming this shit. "Its your fantasy..."

"Mmmm..." she hummed and then immediately became lost in thought. So I stood there and waited. And waited. And waited. She was lost in whatever she was thinking for a good long while. A couple of glances at my watch told me that her thought was really good. She was in it for almost five minutes.

"Earth to Gin!" I snapped my fingers at her in an attempt to get her attention. It didn't succeeded. Desperate times called for desperate measures. "Hey! Brain eating zombie attack here."

"Mmmm..." she answered. Fine. If she wanted to play that way, I could get downright mean.

"If a zombie finds Sam and gives him head, you still gonna suck his zombie wiener?" I asked her. That grabbed her attention. She lost the fantasy really fast.

"Huh? What? Where? Keep your slimy, decomposing mitts off that boy!" she ordered, her head whipping around as she looked for both the boy in question and the zombie that might be attacking him. When she didn't see either one, she turned to glare at me. "You know, that was totally unfair. I was having a damned good daydream there."

"Sorry to burst your bubble." I totally wasn't and she knew it. I tossed her a smile that was meant to placate her. "I just thought you might like a chance at the real thing before it gets zombified. Cos, really, who wants to eat an old, decaying wiener?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" she asked. Point. I'm sure there were a few out there who wouldn't care one way or another. I shook my head.

"Never mind." Gin gave me a smug look. I took a look at the zombies milling downstairs again before allowing my brain to follow the same smutty trail hers had been. I turned to look at her. "So, um... Can he?"

She blinked at me. "Can he what?"

"Can he manage to keep the car on the road while I jump him?" I had to know. It was her fantasy, after all. Gin frowned.

"He who?"

"Dean! Dean Winchester!" I nearly shouted. Damn, talk about being lost in the moment. "Can Dean manage to keep the car on the road while I jump him? Damn it, don't leave me hanging here."

"I dunno," Gin shook her head, then offered me a smile that made me feel all squirmy inside. That kind of look didn't bode well. "Why don't you ask him yourself since he's standing right behind you?"

I turned slowly, hoping she was joking. Oh. My Gods. She wasn't. Sam and Dean were standing right behind us. And based on the way they were both smirking, they'd heard more than enough. Crap on toast. Maybe the floor would open up and swallow me whole. Or maybe one of the zombies would nibble on my brains. Right. Time to change the subject. "So did you save Hello Nurse?"

"There was no need. The zombies kept falling all over themselves but they never really touched her." Sam sounded disappointed.

"Hello Nurse has been here for three years. The zombies have yet to munch on anything important. Like I said before, they don't eat silicone." I motioned to the zombies down on the main floor. "See? Center. Though I've never seen them just stand around like this before. Maybe there's a leader zombie and they're waiting for a sign from it or something."

"You're not serious?" Gin turned to me. "A leader zombie? There's no way. Who would be the brains of the operation? You know they aren't that organized."

"How else do you explain it? The past couple of years, they were all about eating the B word. Now... Its like there's a light on but nobody's home." I motioned to them again. They were just kind of standing there, doing nothing.

"Dude! They're zombies! They have no brains. There isn't anyone home. There's never anyone home." Gin gave me a look that suggested I had no brains. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at her. She rolled her eyes before having another look at the zombies. "So what's the plan?"

"Well, there's an escalator over there," Dean pointed toward the moving stairs. There were about six or seven zombies hanging out by the bottom. "We go down the stairs with guns blazing."

I shook my head. "You'll get swarmed by the zombies before you have a chance to shoot them all. It'd be better if Gin and I went in first. Chainsaws don't require accuracy. And they don't need to be reloaded."

"If you think we're going to let you just walk into a mob of zombies with nothing more than a chainsaw..." Dean began but I cut him off with a look.

"I left the swords at home. Fucking chainsaws require two hands."

"Not to mention they were never paid for," Gin commented.

"Well, we needed something to defeat the zombies with. Smiles weren't going to do it. The fucking mall could, just once, write off the cost of the shit we had to use to save the fucking place. Really. They're a bunch of ingrates."

"Just because they wouldn't dry clean your Halloween costume."

"I spent good money on that bodice and the chemise. The least they could do was pay to get the zombie guts and stench out of them. Cheap bastards." I frowned. I might have ranted more on the lack of respect the mall people had shown us after we'd saved their asses two years in a row. Actually, it was going on three, but that was beside the point. I never got a chance to because something even stranger than zombies in the mall happened then. A giant disco ball lowered down from the ceiling and a series of lights came on so that little blips of reflected light flashed around the center of the mall. "What the fuck?"

The song that had been playing on the PA went off suddenly, only to be replaced with a familiar childhood song. The zombies, every last one of them, suddenly lined up and began shifting to the music. Then the words started and I wasn't sure if I should laugh at what I was seeing or if I should shake my head sadly because... That was just wrong.

The zombies were dancing to the "Hokey Pokey" and they were doing a pretty good job of it.

They put their right legs in. They put their right legs out. They put their left legs, left feet, left arms, left hands, right legs, right feet, right arms and right legs in. They put them out. They put their head in and out. Some of them lost body parts, the strain of trying to dance too much for them. It was kind of funny to watch one put a leg in and then fall over because it didn't stop going in. Soon enough, arms, legs, fingers and toes littered the floor. And still the zombies kept dancing.

As if that wasn't bad enough, a group of zombies on roller skates soon began rolling around the rail on the upper level. This was the first time I'd ever seen zombies on roller skates. And they were doing the Hokey Pokey, too.

Most of them moved simply by virtue of kind of leaning forward. A few of them seemed to have enough wits about them to actually move their legs. Like their friends down on the first level, some of them were leaving bits and pieces of themselves behind. Fingers and bits of skin flaked and fell off. Someone lost a nose. I wasn't sure if I should be frightened or impressed by their display.

"I've never seen zombies act like this," Sam said as he watched the zombies roll by.

Gin shook her head. "Obviously this is your first time encountering MallZombies. Nothing these things do surprise me anymore. Come on. Let's put an end to the party. I didn't like the Seventies the first time around. I don't want to live through it again. One of you boys bring up the rear."

The four of us started for the escalator. I had to agree with Gin. We needed to put an end to this insanity before it got any worse. She took the front and we followed after her single file. The zombies were close to the rail so we kept to the middle of the walkway. At least until we reached the entrance to the escalator. Gin was on her way to step onto it when one of the zombies zipped past. She reached out and put a hand on it, giving it a push.

The zombie flailed and went sideways. We all watched as it landed on the steps of the escalator and rode them down to the main level. The zombie's arms and legs flailed like a bug turned onto its back. Surprisingly, the other zombies avoided us as they zipped past. Gin shot me a smug look, then stepped onto the escalator. We followed her. As we approached the bottom, she pointed to the zombie that lay there. "Watch out for that last step. Its a doozy."

We missed the zombie. We didn't miss the fact that the song had changed and a large group of zombies was now engaged in doing the Electric Slide. At least the ones who hadn't lost a leg or foot were. This time, the song was "Disco Duck." How they could do the Electric Slide to "Disco Duck" was beyond me. But they were managing.

"Damn it. We should have brought a camera. This would have been the biggest hit on You Tube if we'd filmed it and uploaded it."

"Doesn't anyone find it troubling that there are all those cars out in the lot, yet we haven't seen any people?" Sam asked.

"I bet these zombies belong to the cars. I bet they all ate the corn dogs. I told you that deep fried mystery meat was a bad idea. Aren't you glad you didn't have one now?" I looked at Gin.

"That counter guy was kind of weird."

"Let's not even mention Frau Blücher," I added. Again, horses whinnied from somewhere deep in the mall. I giggled. I couldn't help myself. That never got old.

"Disco Duck" became "The Hustle" and we were treated to a large group of the undead trying to do the hustle. More limbs flew. I thought it was kind of amusing. Apparently, I was the only one. I heard Dean sigh behind me. "Couldn't they have picked better music than this? Whose idea was it to go back to the Seventies?"

"Well, if you can think of something better than this to listen to, by all means. Go find the office and change the music. I'm not a fan," Gin invited.

"I will. You stay here and keep an eye on them, Sammy." Before the younger Winchester could say anything, Dean turned and hurried back up the escalator. I watched him go with a frown on my face.

"Damn it, Gin. If he gets his face eaten off by one of those zombies, I'll never forgive you. How often will I get the chance to jump Dean?"

"There's always next Halloween," she shrugged.

"Zombie wiener."

"Gross."

"Exactly."

"Shhh." Gin waved a hand at me. The last song was dying down, letting us know that the next one was getting ready to play. I blinked at her. "I want to hear the next song."

"I thought you didn't like disco."

"I don't, but watching them dance is amusing."

I'd thought that the previous two songs had been bad. I'd been wrong. This time around, we were being treated to the Bee Gees. "Stayin' Alive" was just starting up when the zombies began shifting around, moving toward the outer edge of their dance floor. As they did so, we could see that they'd come dressed in clothing from the Seventies. There were bell bottoms and polyester shirts, leisure suits and platforms. Women were wearing shiny spandex jumpsuits with low cut fronts and belled legs and dresses with no straps and layers of gauzy material that flowed as they moved. A couple of the guys had afros.

There were furry pink slippers in the afros. "Ew."

"Totally."

A single zombie took center stage. Gin and I stared. It was a zombie John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever, complete with the tight white suit and the black shirt. If he hadn't been in a stage of rotted decay, I would have said the guy was a dead ringer for Travolta. I looked at Gin and pointed. "See, I told you disco was dead."

"You were right. This is just so wrong." She looked around at the various bits and pieces that littered the floor. Then her gaze sought out the zombies upstairs. "Roller skates and bell bottoms. Does anyone see a problem with this? Anyone?" She caught the eyes of one of the skaters. "How about you there? Do you see a problem with this?" The zombie attempted to nod and spin at the same time. It wiped out, going to the ground in a mess of flailing, flying limbs. There was a moan of the B word that sounded as if it was filled with pain. "Ooops. Sorry. That looks like it hurt."

"Staying aliiiiiiveeeeee..." the John Travolta zombie moaned out as his body moved in time with the song. Damn if the son of a bitch didn't have all the moves down. Then a female zombie with brown hair and wearing a red dress joined him. The two of them began doing the dance together. We watched them for a little bit.

"You know," Gin began. "He's kind of hot."

"He's dead. And he's wearing bell bottoms," I pointed out.

"But they're so tight."

"Its probably rotted up and fallen off by now. It just can't go anywhere because those pants are that tight."

"Ew." It was Sam who said it this time.

"I agree."

"So why are we just standing here? Why aren't we in the middle of things, killing these zombies?" he asked us.

"Because I'm kind of enjoying the show," Gin told him. "They can actually dance pretty well."

"This is the weirdest hunt I've ever been on," Sam muttered.

"Be glad you weren't here last Halloween," I replied.

The last strains of "Stayin' Alive" were finishing up. Zombie Tony and zombie Stephanie took a bow. One of her boobs fell out of her dress. A few hands went flying because the zombies were clapping too hard. One of the leisure suit wearing zombies, complete with the male sign lying against his chest, dangling off a gold chain, walked up to us. "Braaaaaiiiiinnnnnsss." Though he said the only thing we'd ever heard the zombies say, there was a tone to his voice that made it sound like he'd just said: "Hello, baby. What's your sign?"

"Oh my gods! Did he just hit on us? That is so fucking nasty. That's it. These bastards are toast." I shuddered and jiggled the chainsaw in my hand. Gin nodded and lifted hers, ready to start it, when the first note of the next song began. "Oh, no. No. This is not happening." I shook my head.

"What?" Sam looked at me. The disco ball was slowly being raised up and the zombies were once more spreading themselves out on the open floor.

"Its the ultimate zombie song," I whispered. Could we leave? Fuck the mall and the zombies. Fuck it all. I didn't want to be here for this. But no one moved and "Thriller" kept playing. I thought I saw a sparkling white glove floating overhead, but that might have been just a little too weird for me. So I didn't check to make sure.

Gin's exclamation drew my attention to her. "Aha! I knew it!"

"Knew what?" I asked.

"He was a zombie all along."

"Who?"

"Jacko. Look at him." No way. She had to be mistaken.

"Where?" I asked. She pointed toward a figure wearing a red leather jacket, jeans, white socks and black loafers. Holy crap on toast! It was Michael Jackson. "Oh my gods!"

"We should have guessed," Gin shook her head. I glanced at Sam to see that his eyes had kind of glazed over. Probably it was best if he just went with it. This wasn't something he'd likely ever see again. He could chalk it up to a bad night's drinking later. "The unnatural pallor, the sunken nose, always checking his crotch like he was afraid they'd fallen off..."

I watched the zombie Michael as he began doing the moonwalk. "You know, I've got to say. He looks better dead than he ever did alive."

Sam looked from zombie Jacko to Gin and I. "Is this normal for you?"

"Halloween has gotten really surreal here at the mall. We just go with the flow and drink lots of alcohol when its all said and done." I told him. "Alcohol makes it all go away."

"I don't know if there's enough alcohol in the world to make this nightmare go away," Sam said. Mostly to himself.

"You started the apocalypse and went to Hell. You can't handle a few MallZombies?" I shook my head.

"Hey! Look! They're doing the dance." Gin sounded excited. I turned to look at the zombies and wondered if maybe Sam hadn't been right about there not being enough alcohol for this. Every single one of the zombies, lead by zombie Michael Jackson, were performing the dance made famous by the "Thriller" video. They did rapid fire pelvic thrusts, jerked and jumped, shuffled back and forth with arms swinging in perfect time. Zombie Michael grabbed his crotch. Body parts flew again. I boggled.

"Okay. That's enough. We have to stop the torture. Now, before it gets any worse." I lifted my chainsaw, intent on firing it up. But the song ended and there was silence. All of the zombies stopped moving and stared around them, as if they were awaiting further songs. Curious.

"This next one is dedicated to all you zombie hunters out there and to the brain eating sons of bitches you're here to kill." Dean's voice was kind of yummy on the PA. And then "Monster Mash" by Bobby Pickett started playing. Not a bad song to kill zombies to.

All of the zombies stopped and looked right at us. Gone was the lack of interest they'd previously had in us. Now they were very interested in us. Damn it. A long, loud chorus rose up from them. "Braaaaaaaiiiiiiinnnnnnnnssssss!"

"Damn it! Didn't we tell him not to use the B word? We told him, didn't we?" I demanded, already in the process of firing up the chainsaw. Gin was doing the same. Sam had a shotgun in his hands. "Aim for their heads."

Screams erupted all over the mall, letting me know that there were still living people inside. Shit and two were eight. Not only did we have to kill zombies but we had to rescue stupid humans. There had better be alcohol and sex later after we were done or I'd never come back to the mall. Ever.

Before we could charge headlong into the fight, a piercing scream from the left side of the mall brought our heads around to see a large group of people running from the Radio Shack. They were all wearing red, gold and blue shirts with familiar emblems on them. I groaned. Just what we didn't need. A group of Trekkies.

A body followed them out of the shop, landing more or less before us in a messy pile. The top of the guy's head was gone and it was plain to see that a zombie had already been munching on his brains. The others were not quite so observant because a few of the undead fell upon the bloodied corpse and went seeking out any kind of leftovers they could find. The rest of the zombies started shambling after the screaming Trekkies. One of them stood and stared at the body. "Oh my god! Oh my god! What do we do? Someone help him."

Another member of the group, dressed in blue, got close enough to look at the body under the zombies. "He's dead, Jim."

"What was his name? We need to remember him," the girl looked around. The zombies had yet to go after her, which left me wondering if they associated women with silicone. After chasing Hello Nurse for three years, one would think they might have picked up on that.

"Um... Joe Something. Smith? Or maybe it was Jones." The speaker shrugged before being assaulted by zombie. The guy shrieked like a girl and tried slapping the undead away.

"I told him he shouldn't have worn red," one of the others commented. He was wearing a gold shirt. Two seconds later, a pair of zombies rode him to the floor. Guess it wasn't a good day to wear gold, either.

"If I were you, folks, I'd beam up. Now." No one heard me over their yelling. "Should we help them?" I asked Gin.

She looked at me, then at the screaming, running Trekkies, then back at me. "No. It would be a violation of the Prime Directive."

"Helping them would violate the Prime Directive how?" I had to admit, I was curious. I shouldn't have been but I was.

"Yeah. Any culture too stupid to avoid the shambling dead needs to learn about trepanning first hand, as it is obviously incapable of learning from a more advanced society." Sam chuckled at that. Yeah. Okay. Whatever.

"You really shouldn't make fun of the dead," I told her.

"No?" She sounded curious.

"No." I shook my head for emphasis.

"Bad Gin. Bad, bad Gin. I soooooo need to be punished." With the last of her statement, she turned and fluttered her eyelashes at Sam. I snorted and shook my head.

"Ignore her. Everytime zombies show up, she thinks she's funny."

"Um... okay." Sam didn't sound as if he was really with us. Not that it mattered because the zombies chose that moment to decide we were a viable food source. Gin and I fired up our chainsaws and dove into the mass of undead.

It was hard to hear over the roar of the chainsaws, but there were people all over the mall that were screaming in fear. There was the occasional explosion that signaled Sam had fired the shotgun. Zombie bits were going everywhere. We had to dance around the fallen Trekkies and their blood made the floor slick, but the zombies were falling before our growling implements.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, the zombies who had been gathered in the center of the mall had been turned into nothing more than bits and pieces. Gin and I let off the chainsaws and looked around. Sam was splattered with zombie parts but was otherwise unscathed. Dean joined us, looking around at the carnage. "What the hell happened? They weren't like this earlier. What brought this on?"

"You said the B word! Didn't we tell you not to say the B word? Didn't we? Stupid fucking..." I began only to have Gin kick me in the ankle.

"Don't pay her any mind. She gets crabby when she doesn't get to steal a few Cinnabons," Gin told him with a smile. Screams echoed up and down the broad corridors. The long, low moan of "Braaaaaiiiiinnnnnnssssss" followed after them. There were still zombies out there and people were still in need of assistance. "Okay. We're not done yet. You guys take the upper floor and we'll take the lower. We'll meet back here when we're done. Leave no zombie untouched."

Sam and Dean looked at us, then at one another. Both of them shrugged and headed for the escalator. I reached out and smacked Gin on the arm. "What was that for?"

"Dude, we totally could have paired off."

"You can't hide out somewhere and have sex. The zombies will get you. This way is better. When we're done, then you can throw yourself on Dean and hump him all you want." As if on cue, a small army of pink fuzzy bunny slippers came hopping toward us. Damn it. Leave one of the fuckers loose and he'd multiply. It was like fucking Tribbles or something. Gin reached for her bottle of Gold Bond.

The bunnies didn't seem to be interested in us. Instead, they kept moving in the opposite direction. Watching them go, we saw a small, redheaded figure running away from them. Aha! They'd found out they liked Chucky. "Probably we should go help the little bastard," I said.

"Let the bunnies have him. Its the least he deserves for what he did to that garden gnome."

"I heard that, bitch!" Chucky's voice floated back to us.

"He'll live. Let's go finish off the zombies." Gin stared forward, prompting me to fall into step with her.

We made our way from one shop to the next, searching every back room and dressing room for any remaining zombies. We occasionally heard the loud booming sound of a shotgun going off on the upper floor, letting us know that the boys were finding a zombie here and there. Anytime we found one, the chainsaws buzzed and more bits flew as we chopped the zombies we found into pieces. The going was slow because we were taking our time. I don't know how long it was before we were once more in the center of the mall, where the main bit of carnage had taken place. The floor was strewn with bodies, body parts and bits of flesh. There was a small pool of blood covering the tiles.

My stomach grumbled. "Shit. I knew I forgot to do something."

"Well, if the mall is safe for one more year, we can leave and go get you something to eat."

"Fine. But before we do, we're going to Hot Topic." I turned and started for the escalator. Hot Topic was upstairs.

"Why?" Dean asked. I could tell Gin was already following me. No doubt the two Winchesters would be along behind us.

"Because I am not leaving here wearing these clothes. I stink like zombie. Its not attractive and its so going to turn you off when I get you alone," I replied. Gin chuckled at my words. I didn't dare look back to see what kind of expression either of the boys had on their faces.

We made our way from the top of the escalator toward Hot Topic. I was hoping we wouldn't find a bunch of teen girls trying to cast spells this year. If we did, I might have to forget myself for a minute or two and open a can of whoop ass on them. Every so often, we saw the remnants of a zombie laying in front of a store or somewhere inside. There were spots of blood here and there, too, along with bodies of people who'd gotten munched on. Why was Halloween always so gory? Couldn't we have one with some good old fashioned fake gore just once?

Our destination loomed before us, the place seemingly undisturbed by the zombies. Not that I could blame them. There were a few good things to be found in Hot Topic, but not enough to want to spend much time there. A pair of giant wooden doors marked the entrance to the place, each one adorned with a facsimile of some gothic knocker from a few centuries ago. Dean and Sam looked at the doors with something like confusion. Oh, right. They didn't ever hang out in malls. "What knockers." It was Dean who said it.

I looked at Gin. She looked at me. We both smiled at the same time. "Oh, thank you, doctor." We both said it at the same time. Sam and Dean looked at us.

"Never mind. Hang on. This won't take long." I stepped into the shop and began browsing. A black mini skirt, a top with a low plunging neck line and a tight fit, a pair of thigh high fishnets and a pair of shoes. Fuck 'em if they didn't think we need paid. I'd take my own payment and wear it out of the mall. If they wanted to argue about it, I'd let the zombies take over next Halloween.

With my choices in hand, I ducked into the one changing room and switched from one outfit to the next. I brought my filthy clothes with me when I came out and tucked them into a Hot Topic bag. They could go in the trunk and I'd deal with them later. As I was passing the glass case, I found a bottle of my favorite cologne and spritzed myself. Morbid. I loved the way that stuff smelled. When I was finished, I rejoined everyone outside. "Look, Gin. Now I'm in costume."

"Yeah. As yourself. Don't kill yourself in those platforms."

"Don't worry. I've got the hang of them. And if I do fall, I'll be sure to fall into Dean so he has to catch me." I made sure to smile at him. If the smile on his face was anything to go by, he wasn't entirely put off by the idea. Oooo. It might not be such a craptastic night after all.

"So what now?" Sam asked.

"Now we get the hell out of here," Gin told him. "Our work here is done. The mall is saved for yet another year."

"I'm getting really tired of doing this. I hate zombies." I sighed.

"Could be worse," Gin replied.

"How could it be worse?" I questioned. I probably shouldn't have, but I really did want to know.

"Could be werezombies."

I blinked. "Werezombies?" Jesus Christ. If that came to pass, would we have to kill them with a silver chainsaw?

"There." It was Igor. He'd kind of just popped out of one of the shops and stood pointing off back toward the center of the mall.

"What?"

"There, zombie. There, exit." His hand switched from pointing toward the middle of the mall to pointing in the general direction of the door we'd come in by.

"Why are you talking that way?" I asked. I never got tired of the shtick.

"I thought you wanted to," he replied. I could feel my lips twitching. But I had to finish it out before I could give in to the laughter.

"No. I don't want to."

Igor shrugged at me. "Suit yourself. I'm easy." Then he whipped out a camera and took a picture. The flash was bright and left me partially blinded. Gin was the one who growled out the next bit.

"Damn your eyes!"

He looked at us, allowing us a good ten or fifteen seconds to make note of his bulging eyes before pointing at them. "Too late." Before we could say anything else to him, he ambled off in the same manner that Igor had walked in the movie. The man was spooky good. That left the four of us staring at one another.

"What do we do now that we've got that done?" Dean asked. "Is this where we drive off into the sunset?"

"I don't know about you, but I could use some food," Gin said. I seconded that. There was something about killing zombies that helped a girl work up an appetite.

"I was thinking we could hit IHOP first. Can't drive off into the sunset on an empty stomach. After that, we'll see if I can get between Dean and the steering wheel," I told them.

Gin grinned. "IHOP sound good. I need some of that strawberry syrup."

I looked at her and shook my head. "I can't take you anywhere." She just smiled at me and started for the exit. I watched Sam and Dean follow after her.

Hmmm. Maybe some of their maple syrup wouldn't be such a bad idea. The uses were endless. I wondered if I could sneak a jug out the door with me. We made it to the doors in record time. Apparently, food or strawberry syrup or blowjobs in the back of the Impala sounded good to everyone. I watched them file out of the door and waited to go last. I had to try something. Just one more time.

"Frau Blücher!"

Somewhere in the mall, the horses whinnied.

 
Chapter 1 of 1
 
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