suddenly dropped out of sight behind a table. Tom eyed the table. Had he seen me…or Hannah? Why did he suddenly hide? From the hall Tom and Hannah had entered through came the soft sound of a whispering voice. It was too low to make out the words, but this is surely why Camo ducked down. Tom couldn’t see the opening from his vantage point, but as the voices got closer he recognized one of them as April’s. What are they doing? Tom was pissed. They were going to walk right to their deaths unless Tom or Hannah did something. Tom slowly twisted his head to see what Hannah was doing. She had her eyes focused on the open doorway, surely watching them enter. Her face dripped intensity, focus oozing from his pores. The whispering voices got louder. He had to do something. With a slight twist he was able to get his rifle pointed through the open doorway. Cack …cack …cack … He sent three rounds into the table Camo had disappeared behind. Wood splintered and small holes ripped through the thinly paneled tabletop. April let out a wicked scream. Rifle fire erupted from behind the overturned table. Tom could just make out the muzzle flash near the front edge of a tipped over chair. He fired off a volley of shots near the floor. A shout of pain issued from the other side. “Kitchen! In the kitchen!” The man shouted. Hannah’s rifle roared as she sent shots into Camo’s hideout.
Tom rattled off another volley as well. Wood chips flew into the air as holes were hammered into the furniture. The withering gunfire left the table in ruins. Giant chunks of wood were missing, leaving gaping holes like portals on ship. Through one of these Tom could see the man’s camouflage clothing. It was motionless. Tom jumped when there was a thud at the kitchen door behind them. Boom…boom… Someone was pounding the door into the table he and Hannah had slid in front. The banging stopped. “Frank! You in there?” Someone shouted from the other side. Whispering followed. Tom strained to hear what was being said, but it was unintelligible. He looked over at Hannah. She had a view of the door and was staring straight at it. With a twist she spun around and pointed her rifle directly at the door. Her rifle thundered and kicked with three rapid shots. Brass shell casings ricocheted off the wall, landed on the tile, and rolled slowly toward Tom’s feet. An eerie silence followed. While Hannah kept an eye on the door, Tom spun around and watched the cafeteria. Camo remained in place behind the obliterated table and chair. “We should move.” Hannah said. Tom agreed. The remaining ghosts knew their location and nothing good could come from that. “Good plan.” He was just beginning to rise to his feet when loud voices forced him back to a kneeling position. They were crazy loud and rapidly getting even louder. An object slid into view in the center of the cafeteria, near Camo’s body. The voices were emanating from the device. The old tape recorder was blaring an old Cosby standup routine and the roar of laughter was extremely out of place. A bang sounded from outside the building. Tom pointed his rifle at the tape player and squeezed the trigger. The round went high, narrowly missing the noise box. He pulled the trigger again, but nothing. He swiftly dropped the empty mag out and reached to his chest pouch for a spare. Shrieks and growls sounded from just outside the cafeteria double doors. The pounding of feet, like rolling thunder, raced in front of the horde that was drawn to the sound of human voices. Tom slammed the fresh mag into the well and charged the weapon. A quick squeeze of the trigger ended the standup routine, but the damage was already done. Giant shadows were sprinting into the room. “We need to move.” Hannah said as she back peddled away from the stainless counter. Tom rose to a half crouch and looked to the