by John O'Brien
I put my flashlight against the window with my hand between it and my eyes to cut some of the glare and play it around the interior. I see end displays with candy and donuts and can only glimpse items peeking out on the shelves themselves. The aisles look to be clear and the light reflects back off the glass cases of the refrigeration units in back. I move to the first window situated just around the corner. From this vantage point, I see more of the front counter and some of the floor. Again though, it is more of the same. I glance back around to Michelle and Robert to find them crouching behind.
Ducking under the window again, although I’m not quite sure why after the light display inside, I move to the front door and peek inside. Again, the natural lighting only extends a few feet inside before fading off into shadows and darkness. I play the light in towards the rear of the store again but it doesn’t penetrate all of the way back and only stillness prevails. I think about driving the Jeep to the front and using the headlights to give us more light inside but I don’t think I can get it angled correctly between the pumps and the door.
I reach up to the handle on the front door and give it a slight pull. Very cool, I think as the door opens. No demonstration of breaking taped windows today apparently. But my thoughts also drift to the locked car parked on the side. Locked car plus unlocked store possibly equals someone inside.
I turn back to my shadows and motion them forward. They don’t have to come far as they are beneath the front window right behind. I tell them what I saw and my thoughts. “If I tell you to leave, you both leave through this door immediately. No questions, no huh’s, no ‘let me see what’s going on’, you just leave immediately. You got it,” I whisper to them.
“Yes, Dad,” Robert whispers with a nod.
“Yes, Mr. Walker,” whispers Michelle.
“Just make that Jack from here on out. I’m rather used to it and more or less respond to that,” I whisper back to her.
A concrete cigarette butt stands next to the door across from me with a garbage can on the other side. I notice a concrete block at the foot of the butt stand, nod to myself, and reach across the door dragging the block over.
“As I open the door and go in, Robert, you grab it and move in behind me. As you move in, Michelle, you grab the door behind him and block it open with this. Robert, you stop about five feet inside focusing on the rear of the store, I’m going in and around to the right. Michelle, you have the door,” I whisper reiterating the plan and push the concrete block out of the way of the door and our path.
They both nod. Crouching by the front door, I swing it open and enter, low and quick, stopping about five feet inside. I look quickly around, my light playing around the interior as Robert settles in beside me. I hear the scraping of the block behind me as I search out the interior. Again, my light still doesn’t shine all of the way to the back but I can see a very faint line of light close to the ground in back that must be coming from the back door. The first aisle looks clear. I lean over the counter clearing the floor behind the registers. I kneel by Robert who is shining his light around the interior.
“That’s your area,” I say pointing to the back of the store with my light. “Stay right here until I return. I’ll be to the right,” I add. He adjusts his light and focuses on the rear of the store. It isn’t penetrating as far as mine did.
“Okay,” he whispers back.
“Is anyone here?” I call out, my voice seeming to echo around the interior. “Come out slowly if there is.”
Silence. “Okay then,” I whisper slowly walking low to the end of the drink counter and focus my light down the second aisle. Nothing but the front end of peanut cans, bags of cookies, and potato chip bags shine back at me. I peek around the corner and see the side door along with the Subway kitchen area entrance. All clear. The third aisle in front of the cooler section to the right is blocked from my view but I notice a musty odor permeating the air.
There is a sharp corner to the right a couple feet in front of me that leads to the Subway counter itself. I edge up to the corner keeping my light alternating between the aisle, the side door, and the Subway counter as more and more of it slowly appears. At the corner, I now play my light across the whole counter. It looks alien here in the darkened building, so different from the place I so often came to. I angle toward the counter focusing my light on the area behind and on the last aisle. I still can’t see too far inside the refrigeration units because of the glare.
Looking to the rear of the Subway, I see that the various cheeses, meats, and vegetables are strewn on the floor and counter; some squished beyond recognition. Adding to the mess, bread pans and loaves are scattered about. The once spotless plastic shield is covered in dried spots and bits of cheese. I play the light on the floor once again and the hair on the back of my neck stands straight up. There is a partial footprint in some of the cheese.
I turn my light quickly to the back of the store. Nothing. I move further in order to see the entire third aisle. Nothing. I turn to the kitchen entrance. There is no door there but only an opening. I focus on the floor near the entrance. There, faintly on the linoleum, I barely make out greasy footprints; a partial one here; a full one there. These could have been made any time, but with the footprint in the cheese, I don’t think it was that long ago. Unless, this was ransacked before. But why not take the items from the shelves and only mess with the Subway items.
I shine my light around the interior once again. Everything seems in perfect order. I have the feeling like something is here but just out of sight or reach. Like when trying to remember a song or name; it’s there and you know it but you just can’t quite bring it to mind. I trace out the prints with my light. They are very faint but head up the third aisle a few feet before disappearing altogether. I inch over to the kitchen entrance keeping as much distance from it as possible. The kitchen reveals itself to my light as I draw closer. I get into a position so that I can see the entirety of the kitchen, my gun held out and ready. But there is nothing but more food littering the floor.
“I’m opening the side door,” I call out reaching for the door wanting to let a more light in if possible.
I close my left eye and squint with the right as I push open the door not wanting to be blinded by the light nor lose what night vision I had acquired. Light floods into the small area and I feel the sun cascade down. It feels good, the sun in some way filling me back up. The fact I feel this way about being outside leads me to think there is something quite abnormal about being inside the store. Perhaps it’s just the tension and weirdness of the past few days, I think yet another aspect within reminds me that the subconscious will pick out clues that the conscious doesn’t and relate them to the mind in the form of vague feelings; intuition. I do know a small amount of tension leaves knowing there is another way out. Another concrete block sits to the right of the door and I maneuver it to hold the door open before heading back in.
“Coming back your way,” I say and walk to the front near Robert clearing the aisles again as I go. Still nothing; for which I am grateful.
“Okay, we still need to check out the back and the coolers. Shift up by the corner there and cover the right,” I say to Robert nodding to end of the drink counter.
I glance back to Michelle at the door, “I’m heading into the back. You doing okay?”
“Yes, Mr. Walker.”
“That’s Jack, remember.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I give up,” I mutter and orient to the rear of the store.
Creeping past the register counter, I approach the bathroom door on the left switching my light between the area in back and the store interior. I give the handle a twist, push the door inward, and immediately flash the light inside expecting something or someone to be hiding there. It’s a standard store bathroom with a toilet, sink, and wall-mounted paper towel dispenser and no one seems to be using it at the moment.
From this position, I can see the far wall of the back room. The flashlight has a
pretty intense beam so there is little radiant light splashing around the room; just a circle of light where the light shines. From this vantage point, I see the back door and part of the back wall with the room opening up on both sides. Shelves are filled with cardboard boxes, cans, and such with more on the floor next to them. My current angle prevents me from seeing the room entirely although I see the door of the cooler. With trepidation, I venture slowly up the small hallway leading to the back room. The light reflects off the cooler doors so I cannot see what is behind them. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the small line of light at the bottom of the back door darken momentarily as something flashes between me and the door.
“Oh shit!” I half breathe to myself.
“Get out! Get out now!” I yell bringing the light and my gun around as the sound of footsteps quickly heading my way explodes into my consciousness. My light seems to take forever to sweep around whereas, in truth, it is only milliseconds. A loud shriek pierces the once silent room and I see something large flying in the air toward me, caught in the light as my flashlight finally comes around.
I fire and shift to the right attempting to dodge the thing coming at me, the action coming instinctively. My round must have hit as I notice its trajectory alter in mid-air before slamming into my chest and left shoulder. The impact spins me around and drops me to my knees. It knocks the flashlight from my hand and I hear it hit the floor with a metallic thunk; thankfully not breaking and the light still shines. I feel like I have been hit by a truck and put my hand out to catch myself from falling completely over. I begin to rise and glance up only to be met with the sight of something large once again hurtling toward me; temporal distortion causes everything to appear as if in slow motion.
I make it to my knees but can’t get the gun up in time I do manage to bring my left arm up in front of me before the impact hits me square on; blanketing me. The impact is so hard that I become airborne momentarily before slamming down on my back and skid along the linoleum with this thing on top of me. Looking beyond my feet, I see Robert and Michelle silhouetted against the light from the front door.
“Get the fuck out of here!” I yell while attempting to twist out from under whatever it is on top of me.
The flashlight, somewhere on the floor, casts a pale light around revealing the outline of a human form on top straddling me. My left arm is being twisted and shaken violently around as this thing has taken hold of my forearm with its teeth. Shock must be preventing me from actually feeling its teeth ravage my arm let alone the damage it must be doing. A dank, musty odor assaults my nose; a mixture of body odor, wet dog, and breath that hasn’t been introduced to toothpaste in some time. The weight and violence of the tugging on my arm brings the now growling thing down close to my face.
I tilt my face slightly to the side and notice the flashlight has come to rest against the wall and facing it. With this feeble light helping me see, I raise my right hand with the gun and lock the muscles of my left arm. I need to slow down the twisting and shaking movements so I don’t actually shoot my own arm. I bring the gun closer, putting the barrel against the head of the snarling and growling thing and pull the trigger. The muffled gunshot is followed a millisecond later by a wet sound on the floor beside me. There is a second explosive-like sound and then the full weight of the thing settles on top of me. Something wet and warm trickles down the side of my face and neck. Gunpowder and burning hair are now mixed in with the musty body odor along with the iron-like smell of blood. There is another smell in the air. It is hard to describe but is associated with death. Not decomposition or anything like that, just the smell of death. If cold and nothingness had a smell, it would be similar.
I push against its shoulder, rolling it over and slide out from under it. Crawling to the flashlight, I shine it around, the light shaking slightly because of the adrenaline still coursing through my body. Breathing heavily, I check the back hallway and then focus the light ahead.
The body is lying on its back against a shelf, staring with bulging, lifeless eyes at the ceiling. The exit wound just above the right ear stares back at me. The once shoulder length, blond hair is matted with blood and gore on the side; a flap of skin and hair hangs down with blood leaking out, forming a slowly widening pool on the floor beside. A trickle of blood runs from the nostril and over the cheek. In the light, I see this was once a woman but the skin appears to be a pale, mottled gray with darker veins showing through the skin on the cheek as if the skin were translucent.
Continuing to pan my light, I see her right arm extends out from a red, flowered, short-sleeve blouse over tan slacks. Blood covers the shoulder of the blouse, causing it to stick to the skin. The first three fingers twitch spasmodically and I notice the same pale, mottled skin with dark veins running down her arm. I place my fingers on her wrist. No pulse. As I rise, my light shines on the shelf above her which is now covered with the spray of blood and chunks of bone, hair and brain. There is also a spray of white, foamy liquid mixed in and slowly running down part of the shelf. Curious. Raising my flashlight, I notice that a can of shaving cream has exploded, apparently being hit with the round or part of the round exiting her cranium.
I look back toward the front and see only the sun shining through the front door and windows. The door is still open and blocked by the concrete block. No sign of Robert or Michelle. Good. I’m afraid to check my arm as I don’t feel any pain or injury and flex my fingers while holding the flashlight. They appear to be working fine, however, with my arm having been twisted and gnawed like that, I should feel something wrong. I turn the light on me only to be both fairly amused and relieved.
That thing, I guess I can’t really call it a woman, had latched onto the roll of duct tape around my wrist. The tape itself has bite marks and is shredded in places. I am amazed and thank the spirits for their protection. I feel over the rest of my body, and, except for a sore shoulder where I was first hit and my hip where I hit the ground, I seem to be doing well.
I turn toward the back room and edge once more to the hallway, slipping on the now wet floor and edge into the back room against the cooler wall, exposing more and more of the room with my light. I am only greeted by more shelves and cardboard boxes on the ground. Inside the room is a nook with a desk and chair against the far wall of the opening to the right; a monitor and various sheets of paper littering the desk. I open the back door and notice yet another concrete block on the inside by the door. Blocking the door open, the light now penetrates most of the room. I walk to the cooler door and pull it open, ready. With the adrenaline fading, I now just want to get what we need and be gone.
Shining my light inside, I see cases of various items stacked against the rear walls. The cooler makes a right at the end. Grabbing a case of beer, I set it against the cooler door propping it open and head toward the corner with my light leading the way. Oh my god, there’s not going to be anymore beer!? A quick glance with my light reveals only more boxes so I head out of the cooler and walk out the back door.
Walking around to where the Jeep is parked, I replace the two rounds I fired. There isn’t any sign of Robert or Michelle. I walk towards the front and finally see both of them a slight distance away from the front door by the pumps, aiming at the front door; the tension in them screams outward like physical waves. I am rather glad I didn’t come out that way.
“Expecting something?” I call out standing a short distance away.
The startled way they jump and turn in my direction makes me glad I didn’t follow through with my thought of walking up behind them and asking what they were looking at. Wouldn’t do at all to go through what I had only to be nicked by one of them. Plus, considering what they have both been through today, it just wouldn’t have been a very cool thing to do. Amused me perhaps, but in light of everything, maybe not really that funny.
They walk over with their eyes opening wide as they get closer. “Are you okay?” Roberts asks staring at my head.
“Yeah, I think so,�
� I say walking to the side mirror of the Jeep to look.
There are streaks of blood drying along the left side of my face and neck with small chunks of other miscellaneous matter in my hair. I walk to the back of the Jeep where I keep several rags. Soaking one with some of the bottled water I keep close by, I wipe the gore from my face.
“Better?” I ask walking back to the front. They both nod.
“The store appears clear now so let’s get some supplies. I’m going to see if I can find the keys to the Honda. If I can find them, then let’s load that up with the supplies. Concentrate on getting canned food and water. You two get the supplies and load the car. I’ll keep an eye out. I wouldn’t highly recommend going up the aisle between the bathroom and the first shelf.
“Oh, and next time I say get out, do so! When I tell you to do something, do it immediately!” I tell them as we start toward the front door.
“What happened?” Robert asks and I give a very brief and non-detailed answer, showing them the duct tape on my arm, as we walk to the front.
The darkness within is a lighter shade of gray due to the doors being propped open allowing us to see in greater detail. I walk over to the corpse still lying on the ground. The fingers have stopped their twitching and I reach down patting the front pockets checking for keys, noticing the slacks have a hole with a large, dark stain surrounding it on the left side at about the mid-thigh. This must be where my first round hit. I feel a lump in the right front pocket and, reaching in, pull out a set of keys. A small amount of change falls out and a quarter rolls along the ground. My eyes follow it as it makes a complete circle around me, falling over only when it hits the pool of blood on my other side and disappears beneath the dark liquid. In the back room, I find a couple of green aprons and cover up the corpse as best I can.