by Jay Mouton
Subconsciously, he corrected himself.
That monster!
* * * * *
“Stand right over there, Ariel,” Gavin instructed his sister to stand on the other side of a pick-up that was parked just outside the front door of Altman’s.
Ariel stood, fidgeting. Gavin heard her mumbling something about missing her “mama.”
“Justine, I’m going to go inside the store. I want you to stay out here, and watch out for my sister,” he said to the girl, adding, “please.”
Justine nodded, and started to move toward where Ariel was standing toward the rear of the blue pick-up truck.
“And, Justine,” Gavin whispered just loud enough for his friend to hear above Ariel, “if you hear me yell, grab Ariel and just run like hell away from here,” he said. He smiled at his use of an adult word, and turned to walk through a door even further into the unknown.
Cautiously, Gavin opened the heavy, glass fronted door.
It, too, like seemingly everything he had touched today, made a noise that he was sure would bring another monster running at him in order to turn him into a meal.
He stood, still and unmoving, and pricked up his ears to listen.
Gavin was sure that he could hear somebody, or several people, talking inside the store. He continued to listen a little more, but did not recognize any of the voices as they sounded unfamiliar and too faint to follow their conversation. But just the possibility that there were people, living people, inside the store, cautiously, buoyed his spirit, ever so slightly.
The boy opened the door a little more, then slipped between the frame and the edge of the door. He was now standing a couple of feet inside the building.
The voices in the background hummed, softly on, but gave no indication that they were aware that someone had just came through the front entrance.
Again, with a caution he was swiftly learning to apply to all his actions, he carefully let the door slip closed behind him. He stood for a second, still listening, but only heard the steady, low murmur of the conversation emanating from somewhere deeper within the building. He figured there had to be a back room, or maybe more.
Gavin Kingsley had only been in Altman’s Grocery a few times in his life. His family did most all their shopping in the glen or over in Macclenny. His mama, usually, didn’t stop at Altman’s because she thought that it was a place where everything was too expensive. He had no idea of what to expect, or just what he might find inside the space of the building. Quietly, he took a few steps more, and was now close to the front counter. He peered about, and noticed there were four or five rows of items lined up in the center of the building; he surmised the place was like most little stores he’d been inside in the area.
Gavin took several more steps, turned to his right, and looked down the first aisle; nothing but stuff for sale displayed on shelves. In other words, normal.
The boy, his ears still trying to make out the conversation he heard coming from what, he now knew, was closer to the back of the store, took a couple more softly placed steps.
Again, he turned to his right, and looked down the second aisle; nothing but more stuff.
Three more steps, and a peek around the next aisle; more stuff.
Gavin felt a reassuring clam trying to sneak up on him, and he didn’t want that to happen. He knew that he needed to keep his guard up just in case.
Gavin Kingsley took one deep breath, then moved three more steps forward and toward the center of the store.
He looked to his right, once more.
Gavin gasped, and turned to run toward the front door.
He nearly made it to the door, when he, abruptly, stopped in his tracks.
They’re dead!
The voice that had been whispering to him all morning said.
Calm down, Gavin! They’re dead! The dead can’t hurt you!
He felt his heart racing wildly.
Can they?
Gavin turned back from where he’d just come from, now determined to finish his task.
He took another deep breath, then, balled up his courage, again. He walked back to where he’d just seen the bodies of —? What? He took another peek, and could make out, with that one little sneak peek, what appeared to be the bodies of, what might have been, a woman and a baby; he wasn’t at all sure.
Gavin reminded himself that Ariel and Justine were counting on him, and waiting outside the store. They, too, were still in danger, should the monster in the bus be able to find its way out of its prison.
He stopped at the end of the aisle, and turned, his chin tucked in as he stared at the granite pattern tiles of the floor. He forced himself to raise his head, again; this time, his eyes were closed.
How could any of this be happening?
While the voices in the back room still murmured, his head began to spin, and he felt dizzy.
Open your fucking eyes!
If his mama knew he’d had even thought about that adult word, she would blister his backside, and his daddy would render more of the same when he got home.
He’s not coming home, you little baby!
With a shudder, and one more deep intake of air, he opened his eyes.
The remains of the bodies were just where they lay less than a minute before, when he had made his mad dash to the front door.
They hadn’t moved. They were still, like the death that embraced them both. Yes, the larger body, or parts of a body, had belonged to a woman. And, yes, the little pile of blood, flesh, bone and sinew had to have been what had been a little baby; like Ariel had been, and he had once been, and Justine, and Mr. Stuart, and mama. And, stop it now, he told himself. It’s all up to you, Gavin.
“You’ve got to be brave,” he said, out loud.
They can’t hurt you, Gavin —.
* * * * *
It took another minute or so, but Gavin managed to, hastily, inspect the rest of the interior of the store.
He stole a quick glance at the counter, but didn’t see anything amiss there; he didn’t think to take a peek behind it, as he was drawn toward the sounds coming from behind the door near the back end of the store’s front shopping area.
Soon enough, the mystery of the conversation he’d been hearing, coming from the back of the store, was solved.
He, ever so carefully, opened the back door a crack. He heard nothing move, so he gave a little push on it and let the heavy door swing wide open.
There it was, up in the corner of the small room.
A flat-screen television.
It glowed, brightly in the dim room; the volume set low, so he could still not decipher what he was hearing.
Gavin made a quick inspection of the room, and then went back out to the front to retrieve his sister and Justine.
He opened the door, and turned toward the truck. He could see the top of Justine’s bright, red mane as it swirled around her in the light breeze that had kicked up outside. It looked as if she had a red tinted halo around her pretty head, he thought. Then, dropping the adjective, he corrected himself, saying out loud, “her head.”
“Hey, you two!” he called out to Ariel and Justine.
The two of them started around the rear end of the truck, and then stopped near the heavy, dented up, rear bumper.
“ARRGGHH!”
Gavin, still holding the heavy front door of Altman’s wide open for the girls, turned his head toward the sound of what he knew was the monster.
From just up the road, running as fast as a creature that had just inherited old, Mr. Stuart’s large, and long worn out body, could run, it came for them. The foul beast snarling, howling, and grunting at the human flesh that it appeared to be able to smell.
“Ariel, quick! Run to the door!” Gavin Kingsley hollered out to his sister, bringing both her and Justine out of their momentary freeze.
“Run, Ariel!” Justine yelled down at the little girl, grabbing hold of her hand and, then, pretty much dragging Ariel, quickly, behind her own slender
frame.
“Ouch!” Ariel yelped, but managed to get her feet moving as Justine tugged her along towards the front door of the little building.
“Hurry!” Gavin yelled out another pointless directive; both girls were scrambling now, and less than three feet from the entrance of Altman’s.
It took less than one more second for Justine to yank little Ariel forward, and in front of her own body, in order to push the younger child into the safety of the store first. Then, in even less time, Justine whisked through the same orifice, and Gavin slammed the door shut behind them both.
WHAM!
No sooner had Gavin shut the door, and had thrown the bolt back on the lock, the full force of the monster slammed into the reinforced glass of the storefront door.
The massive beast bounced off the, still intact, sturdy glass and landed, in a snarling, writhing heap of dead flesh, on the paved asphalt.
The children, all fighting to catch their collective breath and scared out of their minds, stared out at the creature on the other side of the glass partition.
The creature was able to crawl forward a couple of feet and then, somewhat wobbly, rise to a standing position. It was motionless for all of a moment, looking, somewhat, confused at what had just happened to it. It seemed to sense that something had come between it, in its insatiable hunger, and what it craved that was only a short distance away. Then, catching movement in front of it, it stormed forward with all its power once again.
The monster slammed into the door even harder than before; the door didn’t even shake from the force of the blow. Once more, the massive heft of Mr. Stuart’s old body simply bounced off the, now, gore smudged reinforced glass.
Gavin, Ariel, and Justine let out another collective sigh of relief at the sight of the monster splayed out and rolling on the pavement in front of them.
The monster was, now, sitting on its large rear end just snarling, heaving, and howling at the door and for the meal that it could not reach.
Gavin motioned to Ariel and Justine to move behind the first of the aisles, and out of the line of sight of the creature. Quickly, they both stepped over and behind the first aisle in the store.
The boy noticed a window blind on the top edge of the glassed door. Tentatively, but with haste, he took a couple of steps forward, and then reached up and pulled on the corded strings of the blind. The time yellowed slats, somewhat smudged and stained, drooped down across the panel of reinforced glass of the sturdy door. Then, he grabbed the turn rod, hanging limp against the blind, over on the left side of the edge of it, and turned it clockwise; the slats of the blind, now, effectively, blocking anybody, or anything, from seeing inside the store from the other side of the glass.
He was still heaving with fear, but the boy leaned over and, ever so slowly, pulled up on a single slat of the blind, and only the space of his finger’s width.
WHAM!
The ugly creature threw its hulking mass at the impediment before it, this time smearing the glass with, yet more, traces of mucus and blood.
Gavin gasped, jumping away from the door at the same time snatching his hand away from the blind. This, immediately, shut out the view outside, once more. He lost his balance, stumbled, and fell backward and onto the hard floor.
The monster had already gotten back on its feet, and had made its way to the front of the glass door. It had slammed up against it at the very moment it must have seen young Gavin’s finger slide through the blind. It may not have understood why it could not reach its prey, but it fully understood movement meant food; even if that movement was only that of a small boy’s finger.
Ariel cried out her brother’s name, raced to him, and leaned down to embrace him. Gavin leaned back on his arms as his entire body quivered with a powerful mixture of adrenaline and absolute fear. Ariel squeezed him harder.
“Gavin!” the little girl said, and held her brother even tighter as the monster, only feet away from them all, kept slamming against the door before them. Still, the door gave not an inch, nor a shudder of care about what was just on its other side.
“Shush, girl,” Gavin whispered to his little sister, returning her hug strong enough for her to wince; still, he held on to his sister, if only for the small anchor she was in the ocean of turmoil their world had become.
“Are you alright, Gavin?”
It was now Justine’s turn to fret over the boy.
He looked up at her, and managed a grin. It seemed he was making a habit of falling on his rear. He shook his head up and down to acknowledge that he was, in fact, just fine.
The siblings separated, and Gavin jumped up to his feet to stand. Absentmindedly, his left hand reached back and rubbed his backside; he’d landed pretty hard. He pondered just how big a bruise the quick stop against the hard floor was going to leave on him. He’d already been banged up thoroughly when the school bus came to its end and crashed.
Ariel was already snooping around the store, looking for something to snack on.
Justine, reassured that Gavin was little worse for the wear, joined Ariel. As Gavin leaned against the steady, steel frame of the first grocery aisle, he turned to face the girls.
“Stop!” he yelled at them. Two sets of feet came to a stop on the hard, concrete floor.
Ariel and Justine were just about ready to turn the corner on the last aisle.
“What, Gavin!” Ariel cried out. She was no longer a child running from the monsters that waited for them outside the door of Altman’s Grocery, but a hungry, little girl craving something to fill her small belly.
“Just, well, just stop there, Ariel,” he said, and walked up to the two of them. They stood, on the edge of the aisle, and stared at Gavin Kingsley.
“It’s just that, well,” he wasn’t sure what to tell them. Should he just blurt out that there were two dead bodies at the other end of the store? Should he tell them that he thought that they just might have been a mother and her baby? He thought, again, of the sight of the blood, bone, and tissue of both bodies lying on the cold concrete of the store. He thought about how parts of each body seemed to have gotten mixed up with the other, so he wasn’t exactly sure what parts belonged to what human being.
“I’m hungry, Gavin!” Ariel informed him, again. This time, her young voice held a sound of belligerence.
“Me, too, Gavin,” Justine chimed in.
“Let me get you something,” Gavin said, and walked around the two of them; he turned to his right, reminding his own eyes not to stare down the length of the aisle and upon the muddled body parts, strewn carelessly, still laying cold and dead at the far end of it.
The child, braving the sight not twenty feet away, began to check out the offerings hanging clipped to a stand of various snacks in front of him.
“How about some potato chips?” he asked, his own growling stomach turning, slightly, at the word barbeque, when he juxtaposed the thought of the spicy chips with the image of the torn bodies off to his left.
“Can I have Doritos?” his little sister asked, her voice, once more, that of his little sister.
“Sure, Ariel,” he said, and quickly located a bag of Ranch Style Doritos; her favorite.
He grabbed another of the Ranch Style bags from another clip, and held his arm out toward the edge of the aisle where his little sister’s hand reached out to grab them both.
WHAM!
The monster outside Altman’s Grocery had rammed up against the door, yet again, reminding them all that he was hungry, too.
They were all startled, but kept their wits about them; it seemed clear that the door would hold the ravenous creature at bay.
Timidly, Justine asked Gavin if there were any cheese flavored Doritos?
He found them, and grabbed two more of the bags. He held them out for the girl.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked them, both.
“Juice,” Ariel spurt out, immediately, her mouth full. She had already torn open one of her bags of the chips, and was crunching aw
ay at a fistful of them.
“Justine?” Gavin asked, handing the girl over his own selection of a larger bag of regular potato chips.
“Juice is fine, Gavin,” she answered, and smiled at him for his consideration toward her.
“Okay,” he told them, adding “just stay, right here! Don’t come any closer to this aisle,” he said, “I’ll get your drinks, too.
He turned to the glass panels of the cooler behind where he was standing, and looked over the drinks within.
His eyes darted about, then spied the small selection of juices the store carried. He opened the glass door of the cooler. Over his shoulder, he asked the girls if they wanted orange juice, grape juice, or apple juice.
Justine and Gavin both chose the orange juice; Ariel, the grape.
The boy snagged three containers of juice, then let go of the door of the cooler and it slipped, silently, shut behind him. He walked around the end of the aisle. There, he handed the drinks to the girls, sat down next to Justine Webb, tore open his bag of potato chips, and went to town.
As he stuffed his mouth full of potato chips, his little sister asked him, “how are we going to pay for this?”
Potato chips flew from his mouth, and Gavin managed a laugh.
He composed himself, and grinned over at Justine; she was smiling, although her mouth was filled with Doritos, too.
“Don’t you fret about it, Ariel,” Gavin said to his little sister, who was munching away at her own bag of Doritos. “I’ll leave an I.O.U. on the counter,” Gavin retorted, thinking it was, under the circumstances, rather clever.
Ariel finished swallowing a mouthful of the tangy Doritos, and washed them down with a drink of her grape juice.
The little girl looked thoughtful for a moment. Then, just before she plopped another chip into her mouth, asked, “Gavin? What’s an I.O.U?”
* * * * *
Mr. Stuart. The dead, Mr. Stuart. The monster, Mr. Stuart had become, had made a couple more, less than enthusiastic, attempts to breech the solid glass of the door of Altman’s Grocery store, and failed.