The Good, the Dead, and the Lawless: The Undoing

by Archer, Angelique

  “Well, it looks like everyone had the same idea we did,” Haven muttered.

  Rosemary reached forward. “Lock your doors just in case.”

  Haven pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “We aren’t going anywhere for a while. Might as well save gas,” she said as she turned off the car.

  The women sat back in their seats and looked around. The quaint little town bustled with negative energy.

  Rosemary broke the silence. “You’d think that some form of law enforcement would be directing traffic, something…”

  Haven nodded. She remembered that whenever there was severe weather, or even a broken traffic light, a uniformed officer was there to assist everyone in the right direction.

  Finally, the cars began to crawl forward at a snail’s pace, and after another half hour, they arrived at the store.

  “Wow, I’ve never seen it this crowded, not even during Christmas!” Haven exclaimed. “I don’t see any parking spots.”

  “Honey, people aren’t even parking. Look at that truck. He just zoomed in and took up three spaces!”

  Haven honked angrily at the black F350 as its driver shut off the engine. She made eye contact with the man behind the wheel, threw her hands up in fury, but froze when she immediately recognized him.

  Rosemary narrowed her eyes. “Isn’t that Cade Foster?”

  Haven remained motionless.

  She and Cade Foster had quite the history. To begin, they had gone to high school together. She had made the mistake of letting him sit beside her on the school bus in tenth grade, pitying him when all of the other kids poked fun at him for wearing military fatigues on a daily basis. Interpreting her kindness as an opportunity for romance, he had pursued her relentlessly. It became so intense that she’d seriously started to worry for her safety.

  One night, her grandmother was returning home from a walk with their old dog when suddenly, the canine had started growling, its fur standing up on its spine. Before Rosemary could stop the golden retriever, it tore out of her grasp, chasing something that she couldn’t quite make out. As soon as the dog began bounding towards the house, a figure took off across the yard. Shining her flashlight ahead of her, she realized to her horror that it had been crouched in front of their living room window. As the person disappeared into the dark depths of the neighborhood, Rosemary caught sight of a flurry of fatigues and combat boots. She had tried to dash after him herself, but her old age didn’t get her very far. To her dismay, upon returning to the house, she discovered that Haven was napping on the couch below the same window the shadow had been moments before. The thought of her granddaughter being watched with only a thin pane of glass separating her from imminent danger angered and worried Rosemary. She had immediately called the police to report the incident. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to do much without a solid lead so no further action was taken.

  As time went on, more ominous events transpired. At one point, their house was broken into while they were on a cruise to the Caribbean. The only items missing were a picture of Haven in her volleyball uniform, a bright smile on her flushed face after a much-deserved championship against a rival school, and a few pairs of her underwear. The family knew that Cade was the culprit behind the crimes, but it could never be proven. Again, the police arrived and even swept the place for fingerprints, but since the stolen items were of no value and no prints were found, once more, nothing happened.

  One afternoon, Cade followed her home after soccer practice. Haven always walked back following practices as she didn’t get a car until college. When he tried to corner her in the woods behind the baseball field, she tazed him with a small Taser her brother had purchased for her at a flea market, punched him solidly in the nose, and ran to the closest house where she called the police. He was arrested within the hour, furiously resisting the officers as they escorted him to the police car.

  Aside from his trial, she hadn’t seen him since. Much to her relief, Cade had received some prison time out of the deal. When she left for college, Haven put the whole ordeal behind her. Now that she knew he was back, all of those feelings of anger, resentment, and fear boiled up inside of her.

  Haven glared at him and shifted into reverse, heading away from her demented former admirer. Unable to find any available parking spots, she maneuvered the car under a tree in the parking lot of a nearby Friendly’s. She hoped that Cade had lost sight of her. He wouldn’t try anything in such a crowded place anyways.

  Rosemary clutched her purse as Haven tucked her Mace into the back pocket of her jeans and slipped a pocket knife into her boot, just in case.

  The women made their way to the front of the store, their mouths agape as they looked around. People were in the parking spots nearest the doors fighting over bags of groceries, ripping them to shreds as the contents tumbled to the ground. Others not involved in the fighting took advantage of the distraction and scrambled to pick up the rolling cans and crushed boxes.

  Cade was quickly forgotten.

  Haven protectively walked closer to her grandmother and crossed through the automatic doors.

  The inside of Wal-Mart looked even worse. Scattered paper, broken glass, tattered boxes, and ruined, smashed food greeted them. The store was so crowded that it almost seemed impossible to breathe. The lines to the cashiers were flooded, the cashiers themselves despondent with stress as they tried to bag purchases as quickly as possible. It was so loud with yelling, screaming, worrying, and fighting that a conversation at a normal decibel would have been impossible.

  A young man, clearly unwilling to stand in line, slipped a bottle of vodka under his jacket and walked towards the doors.

  Haven raised a skeptical eyebrow as he attempted in vain to hide the alcohol.

  “Of all things…” she murmured. “Hey, buddy, I think you forgot to pay for that!” Haven exclaimed over the noise as she headed in his direction.

  Rosemary pulled her back. “Haven, don’t. People are desperate right now. You don’t know what he could do. Let the employees handle it.”

  “Look at this place. The employees are completely overwhelmed. We could waltz out of here without paying a dime, and no one would know differently. Where the heck are the cops?”

  The lack of law enforcement was really starting to worry her.

  She finally managed to grab a stray shopping basket with broken handles.

  “Alright, here goes nothing,” she said, grasping her grandmother’s hand as she pushed her way through the crowd.

  Getting to the grocery section was much harder than either of them had anticipated. People elbowed them, pushed them, shoved them. At first, Haven had reacted angrily to a jab to the ribs, usually shoving back, but after a while, she began to ignore them and narrowed her focus to reaching their destination. Stronger than her grandmother, she led the way until they finally found themselves staring at nearly skeletal-looking aisles.

  “They stripped nearly everything off the shelves!” Haven yelled above the chaos.

  “Come on, grab whatever you can!” Rosemary replied, pulling her into the aisle normally stocked with canned goods.

  There were several people fumbling around in the aisle, scooping up what they could and shoving it greedily into their pockets and purses as there was no room to maneuver through the throng of frenzied people with a shopping cart.

  Haven began to grab boxes of spaghetti, hastily throwing them into the warped basket. Rosemary scrambled to the last remaining can of black beans just before another woman reached it.

  The woman tried to yank the can out of Rosemary’s hands, roughly shoving her backwards until she lost her balance and fell at an awkward angle. Her face tightened in agony, pain radiating up her hip.

  Haven turned around in time to see the scuffle and ran to her grandmother, horrified. She suddenly felt an inexplicable surge of anger welling up inside of her, a darkness that threatened to undo her as she watched her beloved grandmother grimace in pain on the floor.

  Rising to he
r feet, she lunged at the woman whose back was to them as she stuffed cans into her bag. Haven grabbed her shoulder, spun her around so that she was facing her, and pushed her roughly.

  When the woman rushed at her angrily, spewing vicious insults, Haven shoved her back into the shelves and held her there with her forearm, her nails biting into the stranger’s shoulder as she pinned her in place. Then she reared her fist back and punched the woman repeatedly in the nose.

  And to Haven, it felt good.

  She couldn’t hold back the faintest of smiles when she heard cartilage break, watching blood spurt onto the woman’s lips and chin, dotting across her clothes.

  “Haven,” Rosemary whispered, stunned.

  Cowering to the floor, the woman shakily handed her the can.

  Haven grabbed it and wiped her knuckles on her jeans. As she helped her grandmother to her feet, Rosemary searched her granddaughter’s face with concern. Haven ignored her bewildered gaze and insisted they gather what they could while it was there for the taking.

  After several minutes of rushing through aisles, snatching whatever remained on the barren shelves, and fending off strangers who tried to steal the coveted goods from their basket as they passed, the two women finally made it to the cash registers. Both groaned when they saw the long lines before them.

  Haven looked at Rosemary anxiously. “Grandma, do you want to sit down? Can I get you anything?”

  The older woman shook her head and gingerly leaned against the magazine stand.

  Haven searched about them for a moment and returned with a bottle of ibuprofen and some water. “Here, take this. It’ll make you feel better.”

  She had just finished thumbing through the pages of a newspaper showcasing the recent attacks around the nation when screaming suddenly broke out a few lines away. Without explanation, a wave of people hit the ground in droves. The women looked around with wild eyes, trying to see above the crowd of panicked shoppers.

  Haven stood on the corner of a Hallmark card stand to get a better look, but almost immediately wished she hadn’t. In front of the cash register of aisle ten, a group of young men, Cade Foster included, stood in line, the tallest one waving a gun at the cashier. The frightened young woman meekly held her hands up as tears flowed down her face.

  “Give me the damn cash! Now!” he shrieked, reaching across the counter to point the gun close to her temple.

  Haven slowly stepped down so that she wouldn’t garner any unwanted attention.

  “Grandma, we’ve got to get out of here,” she whispered as she reached into her pocket for her cell phone, quickly dialing 9-1-1.

  She frowned when she heard an automated message explaining that all lines were busy. She tried again. The same message. An awful fear crept over her.

  “What’s wrong? Aren’t they picking up?” Rosemary asked breathlessly.

  Haven shook her head. “Maybe they’ll be able to track our location from the GPS in my phone, but right now, we’ve got to move.”

  Before either could blink, gunshots rang out. Haven peered through a slit in the card rack and gasped. Someone had apparently tried to play hero and had gotten himself killed. His lifeless body lay beside the shell-shocked cashier. After that, the enraged gunman and the others with him let all hell break loose. She noticed Cade turn in her direction, and although she was well hidden, she could feel his stare pierce through her.

  Although her mind was telling her to move, her legs refused to budge.

  In seconds, chaos and sheer panic enveloped Wal-Mart. Customers screamed in terror, many trying to make their way out of the double doors on either side of the store, mowing down others in their hurry. Haven stared in horror as several people fell to the ground and didn’t get up again, either mortally pierced with bullets or trampled to death by frantic feet. What few glass bottles remained on the shelves exploded from stray bullets, spewing forth dark liquid that spurted across the polished white floor, the deep red color intensifying the morbidity playing out before them.

  Haven was taking in the destruction when she caught sight of Cade, closer this time than he was before.

  Wide-eyed with terror, the women backed hastily into the nearest aisle, crouching down to avoid being seen. Haven turned to her grandmother, who had already drawn her gun. She reached into her boot and produced her knife, clutching it in her left hand while in the other, she held the can of Mace. Haven wished she had the Ruger, but mouthed a silent prayer of thanks that they had the foresight to bring at least some protection.

  With their hands full and their survival on the line, they reluctantly realized they would have to leave the groceries.

  Haven began crawling away from the front of the store, her grandmother in hot pursuit. She tried to conjure up a plan that would lead them both to safety, but in her fear, her mind went blank like white noise on an old television set.

  After what seemed like hours of shuffling on their hands and knees across the hard floor, they finally reached the end of the aisle. Haven poked her head out, and just as quickly shrank back to her hiding place.

  While many within the store had attempted to escape from the front exit, taking that route seemed to be too much of a gamble after witnessing the bloody massacre just moments before. What if the gunmen were still there?

  Haven leaned against the shelves for a moment, catching her breath. Where could they hide? She couldn’t think. She waited a few seconds and peered around the corner again, this time taking a couple extra seconds to study their surroundings. To the left was the baby section complete with shiny cribs, toys, and clothes. To the right was the men’s clothing department. Neither of those areas provided a viable escape option.

  Fortunately, a swinging door near the restrooms caught her eye. The stockroom. They could escape through the back and cross the vacant lot next door to the Friendly’s where her car waited.

  Haven signaled to Rosemary to follow her to the back of the store. As she turned to her grandmother, her blood ran cold.

  Cade was headed in their direction, and he was heavily armed.

  He stepped slowly from aisle to aisle, gun poised, as his eyes began scanning the store in search of his decade-long obsession.

  Rosemary raised her gun and aimed, her back pressed solidly against the shelves.

  “Come on!” Haven whispered, grabbing her elbow and pulling her towards the stockroom. “He doesn’t see us!”

  In their haste, their eyes fastened on their destination, they didn’t see a cluster of cans on the ground. Haven’s boot made contact. She watched in horror as the cans noisily rolled away. Both women held their breaths, frozen in place.

  Heavy telltale footsteps began to thud down the aisle.

  Haven and Rosemary started a silent sprint towards the closest possible hideaway, running on the balls of their feet to avoid any additional noise. Haven grasped her grandmother tightly, knowing the elderly woman was exhausted and couldn’t keep up. They landed in a crouch in a short, dark aisle cluttered with shoes. Rosemary tried to control her labored breathing and determinedly cleared a small space between a couple of shoe boxes, pointing her gun in the direction from where they had come.

  Sure enough, Cade had followed them and stood beside the errant can. He looked around slowly, his hard eyes narrowing to tiny slits and his lips drawn in a tight line. He had a sturdy build, and that, in conjunction with the nice little MAC-10 he held firmly in his gloved grip, was more than enough to overpower them.

  Haven crept to the opposite edge of the aisle and checked to see how much further they were to the stockroom doors. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw they only had a few more yards to cover.

  Rosemary’s gray-blue eyes didn’t leave her target as her granddaughter stealthily edged back to her. Haven gestured for her to follow, and both women retreated while remaining alert to any sign of impending danger.

  They tiptoed carefully to the back doors, pressing them forward and grimacing when they squeaked. Haven turned behind her to s
ee how close their predatory companion was, but didn’t see him. Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t there.

  Haven gently pressed the door shut. The stockroom was in total disarray and looked even worse than the store itself. Boxes had been torn open in a hurry, everything from kitty litter to diapers strewn across the narrow aisles. The flickering fluorescent lights along the high ceilings did nothing to ameliorate the gloomy ambiance.

  Immediately, she felt like she was the star of a campy teen horror flick. She began to look for the exit, but amidst the ruin and rubble could find little direction. She saw a bathroom to the far left and contemplated hiding in it and locking the door, but after thinking through it a little further, decided it was too obvious of a hideout.

  She looked at the shelves. Suddenly she had an idea. She pushed some boxes aside.

  “Grandma, I’m going to help you climb up there.”

  Rosemary looked at her questioningly at first, but as she saw her granddaughter’s plan, implicit trust crossed her features. She slipped the gun back into her purse and placed two shaky, weathered hands on the cold metal shelves. Haven hoisted her up as gently as she could manage and impatiently watched her ascend to the second highest shelf from the ceiling. She looked down at Haven and motioned for her to hurry. Haven didn’t hesitate and deftly swung her legs up to the first shelf, climbing until she met her grandmother. They shrank back into the shadows of the shelf and started rearranging boxes of gallons of water in front of them.

  They stopped nearly as quickly as they had started when they heard a squeak from the stockroom entrance.

  He’s here, Haven thought as her hands trembled to silently maneuver the last box in front of them.

  Cold darkness enveloped the women as they crouched and waited. Haven’s heart was beating so fiercely in her chest she worried Cade would hear it and discover their location. She shut her eyes and willed herself to calm down.

  Footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent room. They were slow, measured, calculated. Minutes passed as he did a perimeter search of the area. He came around to the entrance once more and stopped at the swinging door. Haven fervently hoped that he was convinced they were gone.