Cassie and Mack’s breathing are just as labored as mine, but no one dares to suggest that we stop and rest. It’s not an option.
Through each winded breath, I give voice to my inner child that wants to be there already. “How much farther do we have?”
Cassie points ahead of her. “Almost there.”
Our feet hammer the road with unrelenting aggression. The sign comes into view just beyond the corner of the building we pass by. A welcome sight.
There are no chasers in the area. A handful of cars are scattered about the parking lot of the store’s perimeter. Their windows are busted out. Car doors are open, gouts of blood staining the concrete a deep, dark red.
We race for the rear of the building where the small loading dock resides. Our backs press to the dull gray cement blocks as our bodies deflate against the structure.
Wheezing, we scan the open field before us. Still, no movement can be seen, but the chasers’ yowls are still heard in the near distance.
Mack takes position in front of Cassie. He approaches the short staircase that leads up to the entrance of the store. Training his Berretta toward the ground, he motions for us to follow his lead.
He takes each yellow painted block with a cautious step. His gaze shifts toward the metal door just beyond the gray railing to our left. Mack hits the landing and pauses.
The Berretta comes up. He makes a fist.
“What’s wrong?” I quietly whisper.
His focused eyes stay glued dead ahead. “The door is cracked open.”
Cassie hits the landing and moves off to his right. Duke and I head up the short stack of stairs, and keep to his left. I remove the Berretta from the front of my pants.
The weapon trembles slightly in my hands as I bring it to bear. It’s not fear that grips me at the moment, but a heightened sense of what we’ve been through, and what may lie beyond the four walls.
Mack presses on. He reaches out and grabs the edge of the door. His head tilts slightly to the right, trying to peer inside the darkened space. He pauses, but only briefly.
He swings it open a bit more while carefully scanning over the interior of the loading area. The barrel of his Berretta remains at the ready.
The hinges stir the silence as Mack presses the door open wider. He stands in front of the opening, cautiously peering inside. He moves in.
Cassie falls in behind Mack with her pistol tilted toward the ground. Duke trots in after her as I bring up the rear. The wind picks up and brushes over my damp neck. Dead leaves blow across the pavement.
A crunching noise stops me cold. I spin about on my heels, facing the wide openness of the field behind the store. The Berretta springs up as I take in the brown vegetation that spans what seems like a mile or more.
There’s nothing there. I try to pierce the light brown blades of grass but can’t. An unsettling sensation bubbles inside my gut.
Off in the distance, I notice houses that are set on top of hills and low-lying land. I wonder if the occupants are still alive, hiding inside their homes, waiting for this dreadful nightmare to run its course.
Something grabs my arm from behind, which sends me on the defensive. The Berretta springs up with my finger over the trigger. It’s Cassie.
“Whoa!” She puts her hands in the air, and takes a step back.
I lower the Berretta and sigh. “Christ. You scared the crap out of me.”
“Likewise. Watch where you’re pointing that thing, will ya?” Cassie hisses with a nasty look painted on her face.
I glance back over my shoulder to the weeds that are swaying from side to side. “Sorry. I thought I heard something close by.”
Cassie nods in agreement. “Are you coming in? I think we found your friend.”
“Yeah.” I follow Cassie inside the store. I close the door gently behind me. Mack and Duke are waiting in the dim storage area with Lucas. He’s down on one knee, rubbing Duke’s face as he glances up at me.
He smiles and exhales a sigh of relief. “Thank God you made it. I was starting to worry that you hadn’t.”
I stuff the Berretta down the front of my pants. “Likewise.” I’m relieved to see that Lucas is still alive and in one piece.
Lucas stands up. He glances to Mack, then to Cassie. “I see you made some friends.”
“Yeah. This is Mack, and that’s Cassie.”
Lucas turns to Mack and extends his hand. “Good to meet you.”
Mack puts the Berretta away behind him. He takes his hand and shakes it. “Ditto.”
Lucas steps toward Cassie and offers a warm smile as he shakes her hand.
Mack glances out of the open, single plastic door to the front portion of the store.
“James here told us what you were looking to do if you find a battery charger. I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think it’s going to happen. They’re crawling out of the woodworks out there. We barely made it by the skin of our teeth.”
“I’ve had to scrap that idea. The two I had hot on my ass quickly turned to four. Before I knew it, there were too many to count. They nearly had me cornered in one of the buildings across the street, but I managed to give them the slip.”
Cassie half-smiles at Lucas’ statement. “Seems like you two took that sign as an exaggeration.”
Lucas shakes his head in disagreement. “Not at all. Just didn’t have any choice in the matter. We were hoping we could score a ride quickly, and be gone before anything went down.”
Duke trails off through the open door into the front portion of the store. I go after him. “Hold on, boy.”
“It’s fine, James. I’ve already checked the place over,” Lucas calls out. “Had a few loners that I dispatched and stuffed into the men’s restroom. We should be clear. Just need to refrain from making any undue noise until we figure out our next move.”
Duke presses his nose to the ground. He sniffs around the various auto parts that lay scattered over the white tile floor. Cassie and Mack weren’t kidding about the store being picked clean. There isn’t much left to rummage through. Nothing more than some windshield wiper blades and some air filters. These wouldn’t be of much use at the moment. There are also empty packages of spark plugs and other items that I’m not sure what they are.
For my own two cents, I scout out each isle in search of any chasers that Lucas may have missed. I trust his word, but my paranoia beckons me to do my due diligence anyway.
I clear the remaining isles, and turn back toward the others who have come into the front portion of the store.
“So, what’s plan B, then?” I poise.
Lucas rubs the scruff protruding from his chin. He holds his hands up in the air as if he’s unsure of what to say. “We still need to find a ride, but we can’t just go strolling about now from car to car, and see what works and what doesn’t.”
I agree. “So, what, then?”
Lucas remains silent.
“Awesome.” I slip the pack free from my shoulders, giving my back a reprieve from its bulk. Duke comes over and rests on his hind legs near me. I toss my gear on top of the counter near the cash register.
I spy the open till that is void of any currency within its black sectioned spaces. Who would’ve stolen the money? Is it still worth anything, or is it now nothing more than printed monopoly money? The thought seems outlandish, but then again, it doesn’t.
Mack walks toward the large glass pane windows of the store’s entrance. Lucas follows as the two scout for any chasers that may be close by.
Cassie comes over, and leans against a rack of empty sweets that would generally demand attention, especially now with me being hungry. “You ok?”
“Peachy.” I pull open my pack, and take out any food that resides inside. Some beef jerky and Vienna sausages round out my assortment to choose from. I’ve got multiple packages of the dehydrated beef product and a handful of cans of the potted meat. I glance down to Duke, who is watching me with keen eyes.
“What are you thinking,
boy? Beef or sausage?”
His ears stand on end. His tongue licks the outer portion of his snout repeatedly. He groans and paws at my legs. I don’t think it really matters.
I crack open the sausage, and place one of the cans on the floor before him. He dives in without pause. The can scoots along the tile as he laps the meat free from the interior.
Cassie stands there, staring at me as I wrestle open the package of jerky.
“Want one?”
Her face contorts in a disgusted manner, and she dismisses the offer with a wave of her hand.
“Your loss.” I devour the hickory-flavored beef in just a few bites. My stomach rumbles and pleads for more food. I’d love to, but I can’t be greedy. I need to make it last. Who knows when we’ll find more, or if we’ll still be alive to find it?
Silence fills the space between me and Cassie. Only the sound of Duke’s tongue can be heard as it probes at the can’s empty contents. He scoops out the lightly tinted jelly that the meat resides in.
The sight claws at my stomach, and temporarily stays any notions of being hungry. “That’s gross, dude.”
Cassie’s face lights up. “I think I know where we can get a car from.” She heads toward the front of the store and motions for me to follow her.
We approach the glass where Mack and Lucas are standing watch. Cassie nears the front door. She glances at Mack and points to her right toward a gas station that’s across the street. “Didn’t Dwayne keep a truck in his garage? That far stall at the end of the building?”
Mack cranes his neck and peers over to the white brick building. “There is a truck there, but not sure if he ever got it finished or not. Last I saw, he still had the engine in pieces.”
“How long ago was that?” Cassie counters. “He may have finished it out.”
Mack rubs his head. His eyes narrow in thought. “Maybe a couple months back. Not sure.”
She glances at Lucas and me. Her face looks hopeful. “It could be finished, and it’s right there. What do you think?”
“I say we check it out. We have nothing to lose here. Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?” Any sign of hope that I can possibly grasp onto, I’m willing to take that chance.
“Maybe the infected figure out we’re in here?” Mack answers promptly.
More of a reason to do it now than while the chasers are close by. We can’t stay in here forever, and I don’t currently see any chasers meandering about out front. This might be the best shot we have at getting out of here. I nudge Lucas on his arm with my elbow. “What do you think?”
“If we’re going to do this, we need to do it fast. Don’t want to give the chasers any more time to figure out we are in here.”
I reach for the flat metal handle to the door.
Lucas grabs my arm. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to get the truck.”
He peers over to the garage, then back to me. “Slow it down there, James. I think it should be me to go check it out.”
I pull my arm free from his grip. “I can’t ask you to risk your life again for me.” I look to Cassie, then Mack. “None of you.”
“James, you’re not asking me to do anything,” Lucas responds. “We’re trapped here just the same as you. We’re risking our lives regardless. Besides, do you know how to hotwire a car if the keys are not in the truck?”
Damn it.
Good point.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lucas stands ready at the door. His right hand rests on the gunmetal handle of the door’s frame. In his left, he clutches the shotgun. His face is poised, focused on the task at hand. I refrain from any more argument about the matter. After all, it does make sense for him to go.
Mack peers to his left, his neck craning out of the window’s slightly tinted glass. His arm hovers in the air, signaling for Lucas to hold his position.
Cassie maintains a watchful eye to the right. She peers back over her shoulder and nods. “You’re good this way.”
Mack lowers his arm, giving Lucas the go ahead to move. “I don’t see any infected. I think it’s safe to go. I’d be quick about it, though.”
“Make sure you’re ready to move. We may not have much time.” Lucas slings open the door and bolts.
I grab the handle, and pull the door closed. My hands rest on the window. I watch with nervous eyes, hoping that he’ll make it to the garage without incident.
He makes a mad dash for one of the vehicles in the parking lot. His body stays low to the ground as he stops at a black sedan. He presses his back to the dirty panels of the car. He glances to his left, then to his right down Highway 20.
“He’s still in the clear as far as I can tell,” Mack offers.
Lucas gives a thumbs up. He turns and presses his shoulder to the passenger side of the car. He glides along its body till he reaches the front portion of the vehicle. His head pops up over the hood. He scans over the highway once more for good measure.
“Still looking good over this way as well,” Cassie adds.
Lucas springs to his feet. He runs hard and fast across the highway. The pack on his back bounces from side to side as he reaches the gas pumps. He pauses, but only briefly. He takes one last look before moving on.
I narrow my eyes, and squint to watch him. He approaches the entrance of the station with cautious footing. He peers inside. Bringing the shotgun to bear, he reaches with his free hand, and swings open the glass door. He dashes in and disappears within the interior of the station.
Now, we wait.
This is always the hardest part. Waiting for the good or bad news. I’m hopeful that our luck will change, but I remain ready to fall back to plan B, whatever that is.
I make for the counter where my gear is. Duke has polished off all of the cans of sausage and one package of the jerky. He stares at me with that familiar glint in his eye, wondering when the remainder of his food is coming.
“Sorry, boy. That’s it for now. We’ll see if we can score you some more later.”
He groans and lowers his head. I imagine what little I did feed him only teased his partially empty stomach. I know how he feels.
Duke walks off toward the front of the store while I secure my pack. I pull the zipper closed, sealing the remainder of the contents inside. I grab the thick, padded nylon straps and pull up. A banging noise catches my attention from the rear of the store where we came in earlier.
What was that?
I release the straps, peer back over my shoulder, and train my ear. There it is again.
I catch sight of some daylight coming from the storage room. It fades in and out with each noise that is made. I could’ve sworn I closed the door, but did I secure the dead bolt?
I can’t remember.
Crap.
I reach down, and take hold of the machete’s handle. I give a quick glance up to Cassie and Mack who are still keeping a watchful eye out for Lucas and the infected. The disturbance hasn’t caught their attention. I refrain from saying anything to them as we need eyes peeled for when Lucas heads back this way. Besides, I can handle securing the door. It’s probably just the wind pushing it open.
I make my way through the cluttered mess of the store to the stockroom. Despite my assumption of what is causing the racket, I still proceed with caution. I pause just shy of the open entryway, and peer inside.
Flashes of light illuminate the dimly lit space. The wind can be heard gusting through the openness of the metal door. It bangs against the jamb, before swinging back open.
Regardless, my fingers cinch down on the machete’s leather straps. One foot over the other, I enter the stockroom. My eyes scan over the nearly empty room as I approach the door. Nothing appears to be out of the ordinary. It’s still the same junk in the same place.
My hands press to the door to keep it from slamming shut. I go to pull it to, and stop when I catch sight of it. Is that what I think it is?
Blood.
Streaks of the dark red fluid ar
e smeared across the door’s surface. On the floor, droplets of blood trail from the landing to inside the building. My body tenses up. I draw a deep, unsteady breath as a cold chill of dread washes over me.
I take a step back, and try to reconcile the growing panic boiling within me. This could’ve been here when we first came in, and I didn’t notice it. I was so concerned with the chasers right on our tails, that I didn’t bother taking in any of the little details. It doesn’t work to stay the uneasiness inside of me, though. I need to get back to Mack and Cassie.
I turn to leave the stockroom, but a chaser blocks my way. Blood leaks from an open wound from atop his right arm. Streams flow the length of his pale skin, down to his forearm. His lips are missing, displaying his gums and enlarged teeth that chatter wildly.
The chaser rushes at me. I go to strike with the machete. The blade catches his right shoulder, and slides down at an angle across his meager chest. Flesh to bone, the blade opens him up with ease. He wails aloud, but the blow does little to thwart his advancement.
He pushes me backward in a fit of rage. I slam into the unforgiving cinderblock wall with a hard thud. The machete slips free of my hand as the air is ripped from my lungs. The steel blade rattles on the floor. I heave, and try to regain my composure.
Through the opened flesh on his chest, ivory colored bone peeks through. Blood pouring out down his stomach. Still, he comes.
I reach for the blade but can’t find my grasp around the handle in time. My arms come up in front of me to meet his advancing bulk.
He chomps and bites at the air. The foul smell of his breath turns my stomach end over end. My arms start to give, and slip from his moist flesh.
He’s gaining position on me, his chattering teeth coming closer to my flesh. I’m afraid that the end of my journey may be near.
“James!” Mack calls out for me from the store. Feet pound over the linoleum floor. I go to respond, but I’m unable to. Fear has gripped me so tight that I can’t seem to form the words.
I catch sight of him from the corner of my eye as the chaser inches closer to my face. The light from outside reflects off the machete Mack is wielding. He strikes hard and fast.
Dead State: Survival Road (A Post Apocalyptic Survival Thriller, Book 2) Page 12