by Michael Bray
Nicu’s face grew serious, the smile fading as he held up a warning finger.
“There is no escape. No way out. The only way to leave is when we choose to release you. Any attempt to leave of your own accord will be punished severely and treated as an unnecessary act of aggression. Put simply, if you choose to do anything silly and cause a problem, those responsible will be dealt with in the most extreme way. There will be no mercy. No second chances. No excuses. If you do as we say, everything will go smoothly. If you don’t…” He looked at the bloody corpse of the girl with the severed head, then turned his gaze to the crowd, ensuring they had received the message... “Do I make myself clear?”
There was no response. Part in fear and part in disbelief, the people watched and listened. Nicu paused, waiting for any objections. Satisfied there were none, he clapped his hands together.
“Very good,” he said with a smile. “We require no more than ten of you. Please take as long as you need in order to decide who will be given to us. The rest of you will be set free. By all means, feel free to help yourselves to any food items in the store.”
With a curt nod, Nicu walked smoothly to the door marked staff only, taking care to step over the bloody pools on the polished floor. He entered and closed the door softly behind him. Bo stayed just long enough to glare at Garrett before following, hurrying after Nicu like a well-trained pet. Everyone who remained looked at each other with frightened, disbelieving eyes, and Garrett was dismayed to find most eyes fell upon him. He looked to Mark for some support, but he and Leena too waited with expectancy. Only Bernard— making himself visible again now that the imminent danger had gone— showed apparent disinterest, and watched in half smug, half disgusted amusement.
“So what now?” he said, looking directly at Garrett.
“We discuss it and decide what’s best.”
“They already told us what the situation here is. We have to choose.”
A few murmurs of agreement made Garrett more aware he was currently standing alone.
“Look, Bernard, I know we got off on the wrong foot, but if anything these events have justified why we gathered you together.”
“Justified?” Bernard said with a smug grin. “You tried to make me go out there.”
“That’s not how it was. I––”
“He knew what was going on here, and he tried to send me outside.”
Bernard was addressing the people around him, looking at them with the closest thing to puppy dog eyes as he could muster.
“I think he knows exactly what’s going on here, and he’s trying to keep himself safe and out of their hands.”
A few more murmurs of agreement made Garrett squirm. He glanced at Mark again but was met with a neutral look of indifference.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I only called in to grab a few things for my wife. I’m no different to any of you.”
“That’s what he says,” Bernard said to the crowd, pointing at Garrett as if he were some kind of criminal. “I for one don’t believe him.”
“You’re being unfair. We need to stick together.”
Bernard was on a roll now and began to walk around the rough circle that had formed. Garrett was again convinced he must be a lawyer or at least watched enough TV shows to have the act down to a fine art. Either way, he was good, and was now smiling, the fear in his eyes not quite betraying his confident demeanor.
“Stick together you say, and yet earlier tonight, he asked me to go outside and retrieve a mobile phone from his car, knowing full well I would be killed if I tried. Isn’t that right, Mr. Garrett?”
“You know that’s not how it went. I was trying to make you see sense. Your head was so far up your own damn ass that I had to try something! I would never have let you go out there.”
It sounded weak and Garrett knew it.
“You leave him be, ya’ hear me. I was there, and that’s not how it was,” Donald said, pointing a finger at Bernard.
Garrett could have hugged the old man. Bernard glared at him and tried his best to intimidate, but Donald stood firm, meeting Bernard’s gaze without wavering.
“This is no concern of yours, sir,” Bernard said smoothly, trying to get back on track.
“Bullshit it isn’t. This concerns us all, and standing here conducting some half assed witch hunt isn’t going to help anyone.”
All eyes were on Donald now, but he seemed less uncomfortable than Garrett. He looked unwaveringly at the crowd who stood around him.
“Donald…” Helen said softly, putting a hand on her husband’s elbow.
“No, Honey, this arrogant ass is trying to pin the blame and I won’t stand for it.”
He whirled towards Mark and pointed a finger at him.
“What about you? You know how it went. You can vouch for him.”
Mark lowered his gaze and then looked up into the faces of the expectant crowd, catching the eye of Sally and Ellie, their faces full of hope and innocence respectively. “Look, I don’t care about who said what to who. I just want out of here, but yeah. He didn’t know anything was wrong here when he came in. I was the first person to talk to him and point out what was in the fridges.”
Bernard began a sarcastic slow clap; a wide lion’s grin on his face.
“How convenient. His two friends vouch for him, and we’re expected to buy it. I’m sorry, but I’ve been around for far too long to believe in such big coincidences.”
“It does all seem a bit too convenient,” said one of the men behind Bernard. He was wearing a checkered beanie hat and had a scruffy stubble beard.
“Are you serious?” Garrett said, feeling a fresh surge of anger. “I could say the same thing about you. Any of you. Maybe it was you people playing a prank on me. I wouldn’t say anything so stupid as that, though.”
“Why?” the scruffy man said, looking less sure of himself.
“Do you have to ask?” Garrett said. Without letting the scruffy man reply, he snatched a package of dried human ears and tossed them to the man, who caught them instinctively. He unleashed a squeal which didn’t seem to fit his personality and tossed the macabre package to the floor.
“Hey, there was no need for that, man,” the scruffy guy said, his eyes darting between Bernard and Garrett.
“There was every need. Anyone who thinks this isn’t a real and dangerous situation doesn’t need to take my word for it. Just go look on the shelves and see for yourselves.”
“He’s making sense,” the bearded man said to Bernard. “I mean, he’s got a point, don’t you think?”
“Don’t be fooled by him,” Bernard replied.
“I’m not taking sides here. What do you suggest?”
Bernard grinned, an expression more made from nerves than happiness, although Garrett was pretty sure he was enjoying every second of being in the limelight.
“I suggest we don’t take any chances, and offer these three in exchange for our own freedom.”
Under ordinary circumstances, the watching crowd would have laughed or ridiculed such a suggestion. These weren’t ordinary circumstances, and instead, they watched. Watched and formulated opinions with almost matching neutral expressions. It dawned on him then that it didn’t take much to make a crazy idea seem sane.
“Listen to yourself. Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re suggesting murder!” Garrett blurted.
“He’s got a point,” the scruffy man said, now more agitated than ever.
“It’s not murder. It's an offering. The sacrifice of a few in order to save the many. I believe in the military they call it collateral damage. And besides, it’s no more than he tried to do to me earlier.”
“You son of a bitch!” Garrett hissed and started towards Bernard, who took a cursory step back. Garrett was restrained, held back by a tall, long-haired biker with arms that were more ink than skin.
“Don’t do it, fella,” he whispered in Garrett’s ear, his accent thick Irish, breath laced with the ashtray stench of a heavy smoker. “It’s e
xactly what he wants.”
Garrett knew the man was right and stopped struggling.
“See?” Bernard said calmly. “He would have attacked me. And you can be certain he would have marched me to that office and—”
Without warning, the biker whirled and punched Bernard hard in the face. He staggered back and crashed into a triangular display of boxed cereals, landing on his ass and holding his bloody nose as he stared at the immense biker in more shock than pain.
“You shut up now, ya hear? You open that mouth ‘a yours again and see if you don’t get another smack.”
With Bernard now silenced, it seemed his spell was broken on the crowd, and they reverted back to their normal, if frightened, selves.
“Now we have all had a lot to take in, and I for one could do with some time to process it all,” said the biker, taking his turn to address the crowd. “I suggest we all grab ourselves a bite to eat and just take a bit of time to think. Okay?”
A few murmured agreements followed, and then the circle broke, people heading away in different directions in groups or on their own. Bernard got to his feet, his suit now streaked with blood from his nose, which looked like it could well be broken. He glared at them in turn.
Mark.
Leena.
The Harwells.
The Biker.
Finally, Garrett. He said nothing, and stared with a smug smile on his face before turning on his heel and walking away.
“Fuckin’ prick,” the biker muttered under his breath.
Garrett turned towards him. He was six-five if he was an inch, and clad in the only kind of attire Garrett would have expected to see on a biker, black jeans and boots and a faded Sex Pistols T-Shirt with a sleeveless denim jacket over the top exposing his tattooed arms. His hair was black and long, and he wore long lamb chop sideburns. Despite his attire, his blue eyes were friendly.
“Name’s Lee,” said the biker, holding his hand out towards Garrett.
“Ray,” he responded as they shook. “Thanks for stepping in there. I thought things were about to get messy.”
“Ah, I wouldn’t worry about him, fella. He’s as afraid as the rest of us. He just don’t know it yet.”
“Well, I appreciate it all the same.”
Lee nodded. “So, what ya think about our little friend’s speech there?”
“I don’t believe a word of it. That’s about all I know for sure right now.”
“It’s deliberate,” Donald chimed in. “They want us to bicker and fight and offer ourselves to them on a damn platter.”
“But why? I mean, I don’t get it,” Mark asked quietly as he fidgeted from foot to foot.
“I see you found your voice at last,” Garrett said with barely hidden anger.
“Look, I’m sorry, man. It’s just… I don’t know. That Bernard guy, he has a way with words.”
“Yeah,” Lee interjected. “I noticed that too. We need to keep an eye on him, that’s for sure.”
“You think he might be dangerous, son?” Donald asked. “I listened in on his little sermon earlier, and it did nothing for me. It sounded like crazy talk.”
“Maybe, yeah. I think so.”
“Is it something we need to… deal with?” Donald asked carefully.
Lee shook his head.
“If you mean what I think you mean, then the answer is no. At least not yet. We do need to keep an eye on him, though, and a bloody close one at that.”
“I don’t see how he can be a threat on his own,” Garrett said.
Lee’s expression changed, and Garrett saw how behind the bravado, he was just as afraid as everyone else.
“That’s the problem,” he said quietly. “He has a mouth on him and likes the sound of his own voice, and if it comes down to believing his rambling or becoming one of them—”
He nodded towards one of the mindless, broken minded shoppers still making their endless circuits around the store.
“— then people are apt to start listening. And that’s when we might have a major problem on our hands.”
They stood in silence for a few seconds, the atmosphere heavy and oppressive.
“Well, I’m hungry. Anyone feel like finding a bite to eat?” Donald said, breaking the tension.
“I don’t know about that, pal,” Lee replied with a half-smile. “But I could use a beer.”
The group began to make their way to the fridges at the back of the store as Bernard watched them venomously from a distance.
No More Favours
Garrett didn’t think he would be able to eat. The thought of chewing and swallowing anything after what had happened repulsed him, yet not only could he eat, he was ravenous. He tucked into his second turkey sandwich— ensuring it was one of the prepackaged name brands he recognised— and thought about what to do. He looked around at the group— his group, or so it seemed. Like him, they seemed to have all found their appetites, and were sitting in small groups of two or three. Lee and Donald were drinking beer and chatting by the fridge, a completely unusual and unlikely pairing that somehow looked right all the same. Helen and the now awake Leena were sharing a large pack of Doritos and engaged in quiet conversation. Then, there was Mark. He wasn’t eating or drinking. He was standing and staring into space. Garrett wondered just how far away he was from joining the ranks of the ones who were lost, and if he wasn’t already part way there. Garrett set down his sandwich and walked over.
“Not eating?” he asked, trying to keep casual.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You should eat something. You might need your strength later.”
Mark looked at him then, and Garrett was shocked to see bitter anger on his face.
“What do you care anyway?”
“What do you mean? I thought we were in this together, all of us.”
“So did I. But it didn’t stop you from looking after yourself earlier and leaving us to… to whatever might happen.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Garrett said with dismay.
Mark grinned, and Garrett wished he was wearing those oversized aviator glasses, because his eyes… his eyes said crazy, and in a situation like this, crazy could be infectious.
“Earlier,” Mark blurted, glaring at Garrett, “when that woman came out of the office.”
He paused, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes darted from side to side.
“You sprinted for the door like you were the only one who mattered. You left us to our own devices.”
Garrett wanted to argue, to fight his corner, but when he recalled it, when he took the time to replay the entire sickening incident in his head, he realized Mark was right. Garrett had seen the chaos, and he had seen the open door leading to freedom, to his wife and unborn child— and he had run. Run and hoped he would be spared, no matter what happened to anyone else. Ashamed, he stared at his feet.
“I’m sorry, I… I just reacted.”
“It’s fine. I get it. Just don’t play the hero card now that it suits you and expect me to like it.”
“Hero card?” Garrett spat. “You think I asked for this? You think I know what to do? By all means, feel free to take the lead here if you think you know how to deal with this any better. You came to me earlier tonight; you might want to keep that in mind.”
He looked around and saw the rest of the group was watching with interest. He lowered his voice.
“Look, I get it, okay? You’re scared. And you’re worried about Leena, but we’re all in the same position. And despite everything that’s happened, we need to stick together and get the hell out of here.”
Mark smiled, but there was no humor in it.
“You know, I think that Bernard guy might be right. Maybe, there is more to you than it seems. Maybe you are out for number one and are just keeping us onside to help yourself.”
“You came looking for me. You should keep that in mind.”
“Maybe, maybe not. However you look at it, you showed us a side to you t
hat you had kept hidden. You can’t blame me for being a little bit pissed about it.”
“I get it, and all I can do is apologise. I reacted. I wasn’t thinking straight. Hell, is anyone?”
“You don’t have to explain. Either way, I think we should just keep our distance.”
Garrett knew then it was futile to argue. Mark had made up his mind, and it was obvious there would be no changing it.
“If that’s how you feel, then that’s up to you.”
“It is,” Mark said as he grabbed Leena by the hand, disturbing her mid conversation with Helen.
“The two of us will go our own way from now on. You do the same. Just to be absolutely clear, we’re square. Even. No more favours, okay?”
“Mark––”
“Okay? Don’t make this any more uncomfortable for any of us than it already is. I hope you get out of here, Ray. I really do, but I have to do things my own way now. I’ve made commitments to help people get out of here. I need to be able to trust people around me. I think for now I’m better alone.”
There was nothing more to say. Garrett lowered his head and looked at the floor. Mark looked at the rest of the group in turn.
“Good luck,” he said, then led Leena away. Garrett watched them go, trying to ignore the guilt that simmered in his stomach.
“Don’t worry about it,” Donald said, handing Garrett a beer.
“I let him down.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, son. The boy is scared that’s all. He’ll be back once he cools off.”
“He’s not the only one. I’m pretty terrified myself.”
Donald nodded, and the two men drank in silence for a while.
“You know, Ray, sooner or later we’re going to have to decide what we intend to do about this situation.”
“I know, but how can we possibly make a decision like that? People’s lives are at stake here. It’s not something we can just decide on a whim.”
“I know that, son, but if we don’t, you can bet your ass he will.”
Donald jabbed his thumb in the direction of Bernard, who despite his bloodied nose was still talking animatedly. Where there were only a couple of interested people before, he now had an audience of ten people hanging on his every word. Garrett felt a momentary flash of panic, although he wasn’t sure why.