“We’ll need to bounce once the dead have moved on. I’m gathering what ammo and other essentials I can find, but it’s slim pickings out there. I found a backpack someone left behind if you want to-”
A loud banging noise diverts his attention back to the main floor of the store. I turn, and peer out through the slanted blinds. My fingers part the plastic slats in search of the source. I skim over the space, but spot nothing.
It sounds off again, more violent and intense than the first time. I retrieve the pistol from the top of the bookcase and walk toward Bill.
“Where the hell is that coming from?” I ask.
Bill cranes his neck, trying to pier over the aisles. “I think it’s coming from up front.”
Glass shatters.
The ravenous growls of the chasers filter into the store.
Bill shuts his flashlight off, and I do mine as well. We funnel out of the office, and keep low to the floor. The darkness is our friend and conceals our presence.
Duke crouches down and stays by my side. He’s on high alert with his ears up. A low growl sounds from his throat, but he doesn’t bark.
Bill takes cover at the end of the aisle next to me. He has his back pressed against the shelves. I can only make out the silhouette of his body, and the gesture he’s making as he looks my way. He presses his finger to his lips, then peers around the end of the shelving to the front of the store.
Duke lays flat on his stomach at my side. I stroke his coat, and look out to the discord that has all three of us on edge. From my vantage point, I can’t spot the chaser. What light slips into the building reflects off the shards of busted glass that liter the floor. From what I can tell, it looks to be the entrance to the shop that has been damaged. Fortunate for us the shop has steel bars on the doors that keep the dead from rushing in through the missing window.
Bill cranes his neck a bit more. He leans forward, then back in a blink. “I spotted three dead out there milling about the front,” he whispers. “Could be more of them though from the sounds of it.”
One of the chasers comes into view. I sink back into the darkness, then poke my head out far enough to lay eyes on the creature. Its lank frame pushes against the steel bars as it fights to thread itself through the narrow opening.
“How did they know-”
I stop mid-sentence as the answer floods my mind. A single act of mercy has also become our undoing.
Damn it.
Bill sighs as he keeps a close watch on the entrance of the gun shop.
“Their numbers are growing. I see at least a half-dozen. Maybe more.”
I glance across the store to the door we came through. “If they stay up front, that’ll work. We can slip out through that side entrance and head down the alley. Sight unseen.”
Bill spins in the direction of the door. He lingers there for a moment. I don’t think he’s keen on my plan. It doesn’t matter, though. We’re short on options here, and that’s the best I’ve got.
“All right. Before we jet, I need to grab my gear from up front. We’re going to need the additional ammo I stuffed into that rucksack,” Bill says.
“You sure that’s wise?” I point to the dead gathering at the front of the shop.
Bill looks to the entrance, then points out the barrier that’s holding the dead at bay. “Those steel bars are keeping them back. The windows have them as well. Besides, I don’t plan on leaving here without that ammo, and the weapons I’ve already gathered.” He diverts my attention to the far side of the store behind me. “The backpack I found was on that side of the store. It’s on the floor behind the display glass. Stuff it full then retreat back to here. Say five minutes or so?”
I comply with a tilt of my head.
I’m not fond of his plan here, but agree with him just the same. With the way the chasers have been acting, and me going to rescue my friends and family from the Hive, I’m going to need all of the weapons and ammo I can get my hands on.
Bill turns and vanishes behind the aisle he was crouched in front of.
Duke looks to me with his ears on end and his body on all fours. I offer a few strokes over and down his head while I move away from the end of the long run of shelving.
“We’ve got to be quiet, boy. No barking or any noise, ok?” I say to him.
Duke licks at my face, then groans.
“Come on.”
Low to the floor, we make our way through the darkness until we hit the last row. We hook a right, and work up the aisle. I keep a vigilant eye on the chasers who hammer the glass window with their fists. They look about the store, searching for any life or cause of the commotion that drew them in.
It appears that we are safe, for now.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The dead continue to gather outside of the gun shop in droves. Hopeful pleas of a possible meal to satisfy their sullen stomachs draws more of the dead in.
The window pane at the far side of the store has given way to the creatures pounding of the glass. They’re crammed at the front now like sardines in a tin can. Smirched rags and bloody, gaunt bodies test the steel bars’ resiliency.
Bill retreats to the rear of the shop with his rucksack in tow. I’ve stuffed the backpack he found to capacity. There isn’t much more that can fit inside. Wouldn’t matter much anyway. It’s time to go, while we still can.
The large window in front of me shatters. Millions of tiny shards of glass rain down to the elevated gun display section. The chasers volume dials up another level, and floods into the shop.
Duke barks and growls at the mob of infected. I’m not able to stop it. The creatures search for the source, and spot us on the floor behind the glass display case.
Rapacious hands stretch out through the bars. Their fingers fidget and wiggle with the hopes of snaring a tasty morsel. Screw it. It doesn’t matter now if they see us or not. The cat’s out of the bag.
I stand up, and sling the pack over my shoulder. The front door rattles hard, which sends my head turning back to the noise. The chasers grab the steel bars and pull with every ounce of rage and hate they can muster. It doesn’t give.
“James! Get your ass back here, now!” Bill yells out.
The infected yowl and gnash their teeth. The mere sight of us has offered them ample incentive to keep fighting to get inside the store.
We hoof it to the back of the shop, and meet up with Bill. He watches the front as the infected try to rip the door off its hinges.
“They’re a tenacious bunch. I’ll give them that,” Bill says. “You good to go?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
We can’t leave here fast enough.
Bill looks to the side entrance, then rubs the scruff of his chin. “All right. Let’s move.” Bill bolts for the door with Duke trailing behind him.
I give one last look to the office. The weight of what had to be done is added to the burden that I’m lugging around. The only comfort I can take from this, is that Lucas is free of the affliction, and is now at peace.
“James!” Bill calls out.
I snap out of it, then shake my head. Bill has his hand on the doorknob as I scurry over to them. He presses the side of his head to the door and listens.
“Well?” I inquire.
He listens a moment longer, then shrugs. “Can’t make anything out because of those damn things.”
Bill steps back from the door. His pistol is trained dead ahead. I bring mine to bear, and wait for him to make his move. He turns the knob and carefully cracks open the door. He leans forward and peers out to the alleyway through the narrow slit.
I gulp, swallowing the dense clump of fear that fills my throat. I’m still a bit shaken from what happened earlier with Lucas, but I’ll manage.
Bill pulls the door open wider, but all I can see is the reddish-brown brick building across from us.
Duke stands at my side, his attention on the front of the shop where the chasers are trying to find a way in. I take a few hearty steps back and check
on the infected. They haven’t let up, and the mass of bodies has grown denser.
“Ok. I think we’re good to… Christ!”
A chaser appears to the left of the entrance and rushes Bill. His pistol barks its harsh report as he backpedals away from the creature. Multiple shots pelt the infected man’s stomach and chest. It slows him down some, but it doesn’t stop him. I pull the trigger without aiming and fire a wild shot that misses by a mile.
Damn it.
Bill spins on the heels of his boots as the chaser reaches for his jacket. Bill grabs the rail-thin man and shoves him forward into the ends of the shelves.
The chaser collides with the unforgiving metal. The thin layer of flesh covering the infected man’s skeletal frame rips open. What few items reside on the shelves fall to the floor next to the flailing creature, adding to the chaos.
Duke attacks with his snout open and fangs ready. He grabs the chaser’s bicep and locks his jaws as it pushes up off the floor. He jerks his head from side to side and tugs with a mouthful of flesh and bone. The chaser wails and chomps at Duke. It reaches across and tries to nab a handful of Duke’s fur.
“Duke!” I call out.
I attempt a shot at the chaser, but Bill steps in. He kicks the infected in the jaw, snapping the creature’s head back in a blink. It plops to the floor in a heap. Duke doesn’t let up. He pulls, and tears at the limb without pause.
Bill hovers over the infected, then shoves the sole of his boot into the small of the chaser’s back. He trains the barrel of his pistol at the dazed chaser’s skull, and squeezes the trigger.
Fire spits from the muzzle. The slug punches through bone, killing the infected.
A flash of something moving in the alley catches my attention. I spin toward the side entrance and open fire. The flashes from the muzzle illuminate the two chasers rushing headlong at me. Their gaping mouths and blood-stained chins fill my wide eyes.
I sweep to and fro, pulling the trigger until it clicks empty. The swarm of hot lead hammers the chasers’ chests, with a few lucky shots finding the sweet spot between their eyes. They knock me off balance before going limp and crumbling to the floor. I trip over my feet, and fall flat on my ass.
Bill sprints to the entrance in a mad dash as more infected try to take advantage of the open doorway. Chomping mouths and outstretched arms flash before me as he fights to close the door.
“You good?” he inquires while leaning against the door.
Each violent hammer from the chasers’ fists is conveyed through the door as Bill’s body recoils.
I pull myself off the floor, and give Bill a hand. I lower my shoulder and ram the door, pushing it into place. Bill flicks the deadbolt and steps clear.
Cornered, with nowhere to go, is not a good feeling. We’re surrounded by death at every possible exit.
I dig my flashlight out of my jeans, and hone in on Bill. He gasps for air with a lost look lingering in his worn eyes. Duke has released the dead creature’s limb and trots over to me.
Bill looks about the shop for another way out. “Plan B?”
I shrug. “I’m open to suggestions.”
We stand there, plotting out what the hell we are going to do next.
I think back to the small town I met Cassie in, and the abandoned store we fled to. There was an escape hatch in the ceiling that led to the roof. It served us well and saved our lives.
The light washes over the white speckled tiles above us. I search for any sort of steel ladder that may lead to the roof.
“What are you doing, James?” Bill probes.
“Looking for a hatch or something that might lead us out of here.”
“I didn’t notice anything like that, so going through the roof isn’t an option for us.”
He’s right. It had been worth a shot though.
I lower the flashlight, and train it on Bill.
The door behind him rattles. He spins and trains his gun at the door. “We’re going to have to think of something fast, or we’re screwed here.”
Screwed is right. I haven’t seen any other ways out of…
Hold on.
I turn to the back wall of the shop, and search for that doorway I spotted when we first came in. The light moves over the shelves as I sweep from side to side. I spy the bathroom door, which is closed, but find another room with a door that is cracked open.
“There!”
“You find something?” Bill asks.
“Perhaps.” I sprint to the partially open door, and grab the brass knob. “I don’t know where it leads, though.”
The groan of tortured metal from the front of the store sends both of us on the defensive. The combined bulk of the chasers has worked the steel bars from the structure of the gun shop. Our pistols train at the infected who have pulled and tugged at the steel bars of the glassless front door until it has come loose and is hanging on by a mere thread. Growling and fighting to break through, they refuse to yield.
Bill glances to the void of empty space, then sighs. “Hopefully it’ll lead somewhere other than here.”
CHAPTER NINE
The infected break through the battered frame of the entryway and surge into the confines of the gun shop. The swell of bodies flows in like a tidal wave of chattering teeth and decaying flesh.
Bill takes point and approaches the doorway. I hand him my flashlight since his is stowed away in his rucksack. He slings open the door. A stretch of hallway meets our gaze that spans into more blackness beyond.
He moves inside with us close on his six. The side entrance bursts free of the jamb, sending chasers flooding into the store.
I pull the door to and step away. Bill and Duke are halfway down the hall, heading for the unknown. I charge down the narrow passageway as the loud rantings of the chasers grow to a fever pitch.
Bill pauses. I catch sight of some stairs before us that descend into nothingness. He tilts the light down and shines the beam over the space below. It’s cluttered with boxes that are piled high and other junk that fills in any gaps.
It doesn’t look inviting, not by a long shot. But our options are limited. Face the horde of infected and die, or descend into the unknown, and possibly die.
“Do you think we’ll find a way out of here down there?” I ask while craning my neck.
Bill sweeps the cramped space in search of any infected. “Looks like a dead end to me, but hard to tell with all of this crap they have down here.”
The unyielding clamor from the chasers sways our decision and sends us bolting down the flight of stairs. Our bulk punishes each step to the bottom of the staircase. We hit the landing and pause.
Bill points to his rucksack. “Grab my flashlight out, will ya?”
He hands me my light as I unzip his gear. I rummage through the packed contents, and pull out his small, black Maglite.
“Here.” I hand it over his shoulder, then secure his pack as he turns toward me.
“How’s your piece sitting?”
Oh yeah. I forgot it clicked empty.
“I emptied it up top on those two chasers who charged inside.”
My hands fumble with the sidearm, searching for the mechanism to eject the magazine. I find the small button and pop it free.
Bill trains his light at the spent mag.
“You need to reload while we have a moment to do so. Did you manage to grab any extra magazines for it?”
I confirm with a nod of my head. “Yeah. I think the ones I grabbed will work.”
The spent mag is tossed to the side and a fresh one is pulled from my back pocket. I clap it in place and cycle a round.
Bill shines his light around the dreary periphery of the damp, dark, dungeon-like storage area. It’s hard to see the walls, or anything else for that matter, with the stacks of boxes in our way.
“I think it’s safe to assume if there was anything down here, we would have already found out,” I say.
It’s quiet. Dead quiet in fact. Minus the chasers up top, and
the subtle dripping of what sounds like a leaky pipe, there isn’t much ambient noise down here.
Bill points to the far wall behind me. “You take over there, and see what you can find. I’ll check back here.”
“Copy that.”
He trains the beam to the narrow passageway that leads to the sales floor of the gun shop. He lifts up on his toes and cranes his neck. “We need to hurry. It won’t take them long to test that door, and see what’s down here.”
Duke comes with me as we slip through the narrow path that weaves through the mounds of boxes. Bill vanishes with only the gleam from his light indicating his location.
It takes a moment to find the wall through the cluttered mess, but we finally do. My nose crinkles from the unwanted stench of mildew, and who knows what else that has amplified tenfold. I thought it was somewhat bad from atop the stairs, but being down here on the ground floor, it has gotten much worse.
Duke groans then offers a low muffled growl that seeps from his maw. So far, I’m coming up short on any such way out of here. Nothing but solid brick and some slimy goo that is on the wall. No clue as to what that is.
The door to this dreadful basement is hammered hard by the chasers on the other side fighting to get at us. I turn toward the landing of the staircase and stare at the door. It hasn’t given way, yet, but the constant barrage of the infecteds’ angered fists will weaken it sooner rather than later.
“I got less than nothing here!” I call out in frustration.
The chasers pound the door harder, which pulls a sharp bark and growl from Duke. I pat his side and rub his head, trying to calm him down. If he gives in to his protective instincts and unleashes a wave of barking, that will for sure whip the infected up into a wilder state, if that’s even possible.
Fortunately for us, they haven’t thought to check to see if it’s even locked. I tried to engage the deadbolt, but it wouldn’t budge, so I left it be.
A loud grinding causes me to squint and the palms of my hands to muffle my ears. Like nails down a chalk board, the unsettling sound grinds in my head.
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