Just Intuition

by Fisk, Makenzi

  "Can't we have peanut butter sandwiches?" Erin's stomach viciously gnawed at her. Fiona whined and paced nervously back and forth between the two women. "Or maybe we can thaw out the leftover lasagna in the freezer? I don't even care any more."

  "No, we must have omelets. We need eggs." Allie's voice rose and her tone was uncharacteristically terse. "You need to go to the Stop 'N Go. Hurry!" The dog's whining intensified. Allie put a hand out and caressed her behind the ear.

  "Fine. I'll go buy some before Gina locks up." Erin grumbled. She glanced back at Allie's intense stare and headed for the door.

  * * *

  Cat draped over her shoulder, Allie absently pushed a carton of eggs to the back of the fridge. She shut the door and turned to the window, holding one fist up to a furrowed brow. The dog nosed her pant leg but she remained motionless. She closed her eyes and Fiona leaned against her.

  She is suffocating, limbs bound and immobile. Brain pounding in agony, body trapped in darkness. Outside, the shadow figure growls, smelling of gasoline and hate. The shadow lingers nearby to watch the fire feast and then vanishes into the trees.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It is half an hour before closing time when I arrive along the trail. Amongst the trees I watch through the window while she pulls boxes out of the back and empties them onto the shelves. Straightening the potato chips like Dominoes on top, she works her way from one display to the next and stands back to see the big picture. After she is done, she walks up and down each aisle to check everything again. She always does. She's got this whole routine before she finishes for the night, and I've taken advantage of it more than once for the sheer thrill.

  Usually I wait until she goes to the bathroom. She'll be in there for at least five minutes. I come through the back door, or even the front if I'm feeling extra bad-ass and I slip in like a panther. Before she comes out, I am gone. I don't care what I take, and I don't need any of this shit, but it gives me some sort of satisfaction to go where I want, take what I want, and be invisible.

  Like I was invisible when I went into the parking lot of the police station and slid my knife into that other bitch's tires. It sliced in smooth as butter. One-Pshhhhhh Two-Pshhhhhh and then I slipped away out of sight of the cameras. I wish I coulda seen her face when she came out! That would have been a laugh. Next time, maybe I'll count to Four-Pshhhhh. I'm getting a little bit excited remembering the tires, and thinking about what might happen tonight. It feels so good when it starts like a tickle in my belly and my heart beats faster.

  Finally, inside the store, she's done her routine with the displays and when she grabs the squeegee for the front windows I know it's time. She is going to the bathroom for paper towels and Windex, and to do her makeup or whatever else she does in there. I head around back quick, and damn if the door isn't left unlocked, just for me. Luck follows me. I can't help it. It's been that way as long as I can remember.

  I squeeze in the back door and slide around the corner by the counter. Then I spy the metal fire extinguisher. It pops so easily out of its bracket and I start to get a whole new plan. I go back, grab the little red gas can and give it a shake. It's nearly full.

  I am smiling like a kid at Christmas and my heart pounds. It feels amazing. My entire body vibrates and I rise up on my toes, like I will float. My heart is going to burst from my chest like the creature from Alien. I am so alive.

  I kill the lights so Gina can't see me when she opens the bathroom door. I am a phantom, hitting her with the canister in that sweet spot right behind her ear. She grunts and crumples, a slow motion pile of rags. Her head hits the floor with a wet smack. I toss the fire extinguisher down the hall and it pings off the tile like a .22 caliber bullet.

  This doesn't look how I imagined so I watch her for a few minutes. Maybe an idea will come to me. I lean closer to make out her face in the dark. Her eyes are closed, her jaw twitches and a little puddle of blood forms on the floor under her head. She isn't croaked yet because her chest is still movin' up and down. Well then, I better tie her up in case she wakes up and causes me any trouble. Like they did in The Watcher, I swipe a roll of duct tape from the shelf and wrap her wrists and ankles.

  When I'm leaning over, I am close enough to smell her. Shampoo and cleaning detergent. It surprises me a little. What did I expect her to smell like? Motorcycle oil? I personally prefer chlorine bleach and gasoline. Chlorine reminds me of household cleaners, which I like, and gasoline reminds me of—well—of danger and fun.

  I look down at her lips moving in a whispery shush shush sound so I wind more tape around her head to cover her big fat mouth. It's not too tidy, but it works. I kick her shoulder with my shoe and now she doesn't make a peep. Yeah, that's right, you're going down, sucker.

  I don't feel the least bit sorry for her. Anyway, she kind of has it coming, doesn't she?

  * * *

  Still grumbling to herself, Erin drove down the deserted tree-lined streets of her neighborhood and out onto the equally deserted main road. It was less than a ten-minute drive to the store but this provided her plenty of time to grouse out loud to Allie's car. The muted dashboard lights winked back with her speed displayed in rapidly changing digits. Pulling up in front of the Stop 'N Go, she parked Allie's Mini Cooper in the same spot as before, right under the fish sign. She truly was a creature of habit.

  The lot was deserted, no teens looking for late night snacks and no procrastinating parents coming for last minute supplies. Just her, hungry as a skeeter before a storm, and cranky as a bear sow separated from her cub. She grimaced. Crap, even in her mind she was starting to sound like Auntie Vicky with her crazy swamp stories! Give her another ten years and she would be a mirror image.

  Erin was so distracted that she failed to realize that the lights were out until she looked up. The store was cloaked in darkness. She checked her watch. It should still be open, and Gina was always punctual. An audible bell spiked sharp prickles of alarm up her spine.

  The front door swung easily and she stepped inside. Smoke stung her nostrils before she saw it, dark curls billowing up from behind the counter and rolling across the ceiling tiles in a noxious fog.

  "Gina! Anyone here?"

  Erin covered her mouth and nose and surged forward, breathing in shallow whiffs. She was sure she smelled gasoline fumes and understood how the fire was spreading so quickly. Smoke wickedly stung her eyes and she fought to keep them open, to see anything through the thick haze now blanketing her.

  "Gina!" Erin coughed when toxic smoke burned her throat. She dropped to her belly and wriggled behind the counter where she remembered seeing the fire extinguisher. Feeling her way up the wall, she discovered the empty bracket hanging open. Intense heat from the flames shot toward her, mere inches from her skin. She retreated as the fire leapt and, with a howling whoosh, threatened to engulf her. Shielding her face in her sleeve, she crawled back to the entrance and lay stock still on the hard tile. Beyond the roar of the fire, she swore she heard tapping.

  "Gina?"

  She risked a few more seconds, straining her ears. There it was again! Skittering like a lizard, she squeezed her eyes tight and navigated across the floor by memory. She passed the open office door and continued to the back of the store. There was no sound for a moment and then she heard it again.

  "Gina!"

  Erin blindly crawled a few more feet and abruptly smashed her head against a hard object. A quick grope around revealed a wooden chair jammed under the bathroom doorknob. She flung it aside and wrenched open the door.

  Like a jumble of discarded clothing, Gina lay inside, trapped. Erin prodded her and was answered with muffled cries.

  Pop! Pop! Pop! The display of cigarette lighters at the checkout exploded one-by-one as the fire intensified. The ensuing loud crash probably meant the ceiling had collapsed above it. They needed to get out. Now.

  She grabbed Gina by the legs but was kicked back with panicked violence. Stunned by the blow, she let go. "Easy, easy," she rasped. "It's
me, Erin." She tore at the duct tape around Gina's ankles but her efforts in the dark were useless.

  Gina calmed and Erin again grasped her firmly, pulling as hard as she could. Halfway down the hall, she bumped into the fire extinguisher on the floor. It was too late for that now. She sucked fiery air in tiny gasps. By the time they reached the rear exit, it took all her strength to reach up and shove the door. With the new influx of oxygen, the fire shrieked and flames leapt ever higher, like a voracious creature.

  Through the open door, Erin scented the promise of fresh air and it rekindled her waning energy. She grabbed her by the pant legs and hauled. Gina's T-shirt slid up and Erin winced when bare skin scraped, jarring down each and every ruthless concrete step.

  Gina groaned in pain but they could not stop until they had reached safety. Muscles protesting and lungs burning, she dragged Gina across the alley to the edge of the woods. She collapsed in exhaustion, chest heaving. Her raw throat screamed in protest. On her back, she tried to refill her raging lungs with ragged breaths.

  Beside her, Gina moaned in pain and wriggled against her bonds. Erin rolled over and held her face gently, peeling the duct tape as carefully as she could. Gina let out a surprised yelp when the tape ripped out her hair. More tape bound Gina's hands and feet but she would need a knife for that. She fell back to the grass, wheezing from the effort.

  "Sonofabitch!" Gina blinked repeatedly, her eyes unfocused.

  Erin examined red blistered forearms and hands. She checked Gina and discovered a trail of blood down the back of her neck below a dark mass of sticky hair. A sizable lump behind Gina's ear seeped blood and she pressed her palm hard against it, Gina moaned again but lay compliant.

  Energy consumed, Erin slumped heavily against her in the prickly grass. She kept her hand pressed to the wound and rested her forehead against Gina's shirt to try to calm herself and breathe. Gina smelled of fresh laundry, with an odious overtone of smoke and something metallic. Blood from scraped and torn skin soaked the fabric. She thought of her iPhone in the console of the Mini Cooper. It might as well be a hundred miles away for all the good it did them now.

  "This is not what I had in mind when I said I wanted time alone with you," Gina croaked.

  Erin was too weary to respond. The smoke in her lungs was oppressive, like slow asphyxiation. She became aware that the piercing wail of the store's alarm had ceased but still heard no sirens. There were no fire trucks. No squad cars. There was only the screeching of the fire, and an occasional ping or crack while it ravaged the building. She watched smoke swirl angrily above, obscuring the stars with its roiling black cloud. Sparks soared through the roof like a vortex of enraged fireflies.

  "Hello?" A strained voice called through the dark. "Anybody out there?"

  Erin knew that voice. She tried to answer but only managed a cough, so she raised an arm as high as she could into the air and waved it back and forth. Suddenly a worried face appeared above her, like an apparition against the night sky. Erin had never been so happy to see Kathy Banks, her favorite forensic tech. She sank back down and gave Kathy a moment to take in the scene.

  "Omigod! Omigod! Omigod!" Kathy exclaimed, hands fluttering as though she would take flight.

  Lightheaded, Erin squinted at Kathy through swollen eyes, and idly noted that fire backlit her hair like a halo. The last thing she remembered was Kathy's red hair bouncing against the flames while she shouted into her cell phone.

  * * *

  Forty-five minutes later, Allie sat beside Kathy in the hospital emergency ward. A nurse stood at the end of Erin's bed, writing notes on a clipboard. In the adjoining cubicle lay Gina, who looked like she'd been in a car accident. Her T-shirt had been replaced by a pastel hospital gown and tubes snaked out to an IV pole. Blood still seeped through the gauze dressing covering her ribs and soaked the side of her gown.

  "I'm so glad you called me," Kathy said to Allie. "My phone was right by the window and as soon as I went to get it, I saw the smoke. If you hadn't called…" She let the thought hang.

  Allie shrugged noncommittally.

  "I think Erin's going to need a little more time before she's up for company, don't you agree?" asked Kathy.

  "Company?"

  "When you called, you said something about dinner and then I saw the smoke! The rest of the conversation all went to hell!" Kathy's hands animated her speech, gesturing smoke trails in the air like a sculptor.

  "R-right. Dinner." Allie recovered quickly. "Of course, dinner. We'd love to have you and your husband over for dinner." They both looked at Erin lying miserably on the bed, dirt streaked and blood smeared, with oxygen tubes affixed to her nostrils.

  "As soon as Erin is feeling up to it, of course," Allie added.

  "That sounds lovely. I'll bring a hot dish."

  Allie brushed her girlfriend's bangs back from her forehead. Erin's face looked badly sunburned and a fringe of hair on one side had withered to wiry corkscrews against her scalp. All the fine blonde hairs on the back of her forearms were singed and her skin, judging from its appearance, suffered first and second degree burns.

  Dislodging the oxygen sensor from her fingertip, Erin tried to sit up. She had already attempted to remove it several times so she could go home but the silver haired nurse was having none of that.

  "You've been a brat as long as I've been a nurse." She chided her good-naturedly. "You leave that alone." Her tone was kind but she stood firm, blocking any escape.

  Erin fell back, wheezing and coughing.

  The nurse gripped her chin and readjusted the oxygen cannula. "For once, you are going to listen to me and stay until the doctor has a proper look at you." She shot a warning glance at Gina who lay motionless in the next bed. "You too, Missy."

  Head wrapped in layers of gauze, mask securely attached, Gina showed no sign of rebellion. She looked barely conscious, but her eyelids flickered open when she was spoken to and a tiny smile at the corner of her mouth hinted at amusement.

  When the doctor finally appeared, it didn't take long before he ordered both women admitted to the second floor. Two porters arrived minutes later for the transfer.

  "You're lucky enough to get a shared room so you can talk about your adventure all night." The nurse paused long enough to gently squeeze Gina's shoulder before they were rolled out.

  On the second floor, a beefy looking man waited outside the door to their new room and the porters brushed past him to transfer their patients. With curt nods, they left them in the care of the nursing staff and hurried out.

  The beefy man fidgeted in the doorway until the nurse had left and then slowly entered. Worry creased his brow and he literally wrung his hands together. He tentatively touched Gina's forearm and she opened two swollen and bloodshot eyes. They wavered and then focused on his face.

  "Gin…" he began.

  She closed her eyes and turned away.

  Beside her, Kathy respectfully cleared her throat and rose to her feet. "I better get on home and get supper for my hubby," she said. "He'll be ordering pizza by now and that's not going to do his cholesterol any favors."

  The brawny man sat in the empty chair and avoided looking at Allie. He tore his plaid jacket off, fidgeted with it and then put it back on. He sat back in his chair and then sat forward. Finally, he inched over until he was beside Gina's bed.

  "I promise you," he sputtered. "When I rebuild the store, I'm gonna get a brand new security system. State of the art alarm, fire sprinklers, the works. You're gonna get a promotion."

  "Uncle Darryl," Gina mumbled. "You already gave me a promotion."

  "I'm gonna give you another one." He rose to his feet so hastily that the chair clattered backwards. He grappled and managed to get it upright. "And a raise. I'm giving you a raise."

  "And you promise to pay the alarm monitoring company?" The words grated over her dry tongue.

  Erin grunted and narrowed her eyes at him, although he was also avoiding looking at her. She now understood why no emergency vehicl
es came to the scene until Kathy called it in.

  "I will never let that happen again! I swear on my sister's grave!"

  "You better not piss off my dead mama." Gina pointed a shaky finger at him.

  "I won't! I won't! I swear to God!" Red-faced, he fumbled his way around the cockeyed chair and made his hurried escape.

  "Ha." Gina closed sleep encrusted eyelids and her breathing slowed to a deep, even pattern as the oxygen supply hissed.

  Allie reached over and pulled the bedcover up around Erin, who had also fallen asleep. She didn't see it, but sensed the dark shadow flit past the entrance to the hospital emergency. Cold fingers squeezed her chest and she caught her breath.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  In the morning, Erin was eager to get going. Her parents had delivered her truck, but it took some coaxing to get her to agree to sit in the wheelchair for the ride out. Pride be damned, it was hospital policy, the nurse said. Her tone ensured there would be no argument on that matter.

  Her mom gathered her things from the bedside stand, meticulously folding and stuffing them into a plastic bag. Allie stood at the foot of the bed, holding a brightly colored package in fidgeting hands while Erin's dad hustled to retrieve a wheelchair.

  Erin gingerly tucked her fresh shirt into the front of her jeans and made her way over to say goodbye to Gina. With a serious head laceration and concussion and painful scrapes down one side of her body, Gina would stay in hospital a while longer. Erin placed a hand gently on her shoulder, and she startled awake.

  "It's you," Gina said, creaking her eyes open to puffy slits. A smirk lazily wound its way to her lips. "My teeth are wearing fuzzy little sweaters and I would give my right nipple for a toothbrush right now. I also have wicked road rash, thanks to you." She paused a moment for maximum effect. "It took them four hours in Emerg last night to pick all the gravel out of my skin."