"I like the way you think, bro," Jessie replied.
Wade pulled up to the gate and the rigs moved apart to allow him to exit. Backtracking on Route 522, they made their way to Route 50 and headed east. With a little luck they could load up at the gun shop and cross over Paris Mountain to Route 7 and be in the safety of the compound before the rest of the group returned. The gun shop was just too valuable to let go any longer. Wade hoped with all his heart they had not been beat to the punch already. With so much time spent gathering supplies to fortify the compound, he just hadn’t had time to make it out to check the gun shop.
Wade had gone to school with Mr. Jenkins’ son Aaron. Aaron had shown Wade the back room one day where his father had a whole collection of different types of fully automatic weapons and grenades. He even had procured some claymores from who knows where. If Mr. Jenkins was alive and well, he would likely join the group as he and Ben were old friends. If the worst happened and he was dead, the weapons they could obtain there could be a game changer.
Thirty minutes later, Wade pulled in front of the gun shop and killed the engine. The store was not out in the open, just a small sign near the road marked the location. So, unless someone knew where it was, it could easily be driven by without notice. Wade strained his eyes, looking at the darkness to see if anything was moving around the building. Mr. Jenkins’ house sat just behind the store, and there were no lights coming from either of the buildings.
Slowly, Wade cracked open the door of the Rover and stepped out to the gravel of the parking lot. Moving cautiously towards the front door of the shop, Jessie close on his heels, Wade’s head was on a swivel looking for any and all threats. Reaching the front door and satisfied they were truly alone, at least outside, Wade tried the handle. The door was locked and all the windows across the front were intact. Wade took that as a good sign. Peeking through one of the windows, Wade realized they were boarded up from the inside. Mr. Jenkins must have been worried about looters. Wade turned and went back across the huge wooden porch to where Jessie waited at the front door.
"All the windows are boarded up. Mr. Jenkins may still be here. I think we better check the house first."
"Okay. Hope the old fella is all right," Jessie replied.
Taking the lead, Jessie moved around the right side of the building to the two-story farmhouse behind the store. As soon as they rounded the corner of the gun shop, it was apparent someone had fought a last-stand type of battle with the dead. There were corpses lying everywhere. The closer they got to the house, the more bodies they encountered.
Progressing slowly to make sure the dead were truly dead, they moved to the front door – at least where the door should have been, but only hinges remained in the opening. Jessie, flipping the safety off on his AR-15, looked back at Wade and signaled he would go in to the right. Wade responded with a nod and hugged the left side of the door frame.
Once set, Jessie crouched and scampered through the front door. Wade followed right behind his brother, going inside to the left. The entryway was littered with bodies. The other rooms in sight showed signs of a pitched battle as well. He looked to the stairs and saw more twice dead bodies lying on the stairs.
"Wow, this is not good,” Wade whispered to Jessie.
"Yeah, Mr. J put up one hell of a fight," Jessie replied.
"Okay, let’s clear down here then move upstairs," Wade said.
Room by room, the brothers checked the entire lower floor of the Jenkins’ home. The back door had been battered in as well, and they found corpses littering every room on the first floor.
Finished with the downstairs, they crept up the staircase. The stairs opened to a hallway that was covered with blackish blood splatter and bits of brain matter. There were four doors in the hallway and all of them were closed. Moving to the first door, they prepared for entry. Bursting into the room, the brothers stopped when their gaze fell on Mrs. Jenkins. She was propped up on pillows in her bed, and she had a gunshot wound between her eyes. Wade and Jessie exchanged sad looks, and they stared at the woman who on so many occasions had set out freshly made cookies for them as they were growing up. On closer inspection, they saw a raw, ragged bite mark on her forearm. Closing the door, they vowed to give Mrs. Jenkins a proper burial before they left.
Methodically checking each room as they went, they finally stood outside the last door in the hallway. Opening the door, they found a couple more rot-bags that had met their end from what looked like a shotgun blast at close range. A window had been smashed and so they walked over to inspect it. The window granted access to the roof of the back porch. The brothers climbed out and observed that it was relatively easy to utilize the trellis to reach the ground.
"Mr. Jenkins must have worked his way through the house and made his stand in that back room then scampered down the trellis to get away," Wade said, looking back up at the window.
"Ol’ guy is as tough as they come. He must have figured it wasn't worth staying after Mrs. J got bit," Jessie said, shaking his head.
"Okay, Jessie, let's check out the shop. It's getting late. The others should be back at the compound by now. I don't want Kelly and the others worrying that we aren't coming home," Wade said, backtracking through the house.
Wade walked to the front door of the shop and with a strong kick sent the door crashing into the store.
"That was subtle," Jessie said sarcastically.
“Did you have any other bright ideas on how to get in, without making noise? I didn't think so," Wade said, after Jessie did not immediately respond.
The brothers waited for a few seconds. Hearing nothing, they entered the shop. Just as they stepped inside and their eyes were adjusting to the pitch black, the distinctive sound of a shotgun being racked reached their ears.
"That’s far enough. One more step and I'll permanently ruin your hairdo," a voice said out of the darkness.
"Mr. Jenkins?" Wade asked.
"Who the hell is that?” said the voice as a bright light turned the pitch black into a sunburst. "Wade? Jessie? What the hell are you two thinking kicking in my door? I almost splattered you both all over the wall," Mr. Jenkins said with a snarl.
"Sorry, Mr. J. We didn't think anyone was here. We searched the house. It was a massacre. Then we found Mrs. J upstairs. We weren't sure anyone made it out and figured if you did, you’d have been long gone. We found the busted window where you made it out, but we assumed you left," Wade said, holding his hand up to block the light from his eyes.
"Well, I couldn't stay in the house with all those dead and with my Betty. I figured out here was the place to hole up, since this is where the firepower is," Mr. Jenkins said, lowering the flashlight.
He walked over to the counter and turned on a battery-powered lantern, illuminating the interior of the shop in a dull glow. With the added light, Wade noticed Aaron Jenkins standing behind the counter with his father. Wade smiled widely, seeing his old friend alive and well. Mr. Jenkins walked past the brothers and closed the front door.
“Aaron, it’s good to see you safe, brother,” Wade said as he shook hands.
“I am glad I happen to be here the night the world went to hell. We barely made it out of the house. Those things just kept coming,” Aaron said.
"This door won't be much good stopping anything now. You boys best help me board this up. I can let you out the back way when you’re ready to go," Mr. Jenkins said, pushing the door closed.
He went behind the counter and rummaged around. When he rose, he had a couple of hammers and some nails. He set them on the counter.
"There are some two-by-fours over there in the corner," he said, pointing to the far side of the store.
Wade and Jessie quickly went to work. It would be a real chore for anything to come in that direction now. After securing the door, they walked back to the counter. Mr. Jenkins had pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and four glasses.
"I don't know about you boys, but I could use a drink or three," Mr. Jenkins s
aid, filling the glasses in front of him.
"When did all of that happen, Mr. J?" Jessie asked, nodding in the direction of the house.
"Three nights ago, a herd moved through. I had been outside getting some apples from the tree in the back yard. I guess once they knew there were living people inside, they didn't want to give up. They broke down the back door and started piling into the house. Aaron and I were fighting them off with a shotgun and had Betty loading the spare so we could keep firing. We were holding our own, working towards the stairs then the front door gave.
“One of those dead bastards bit Betty before I could clear enough space for us to get to the stairs. We held them off from the top of the stairs for a good long time. Then Betty started feeling bad. She wanted me to end it before she turned. She always was a damn strong woman. She knew there was no getting around it. Eventually she would be one of them. Aaron kept shooting while I took her and put her in bed, and we said our goodbyes. Then I shot my Betty in the head," Mr. Jenkins said as tears ran down his cheeks.
“We were out of shells at that point. Dad had his AR upstairs and a few Glocks, but those things just kept coming. We finally were down to using ball bats. That’s when we fought a retreat to the back room and went out the window,” Aaron said, picking up where his father left off.
Hands shaking, he picked up his glass and downed the contents in one long pull.
"After that, we came out here and boarded up the windows and just hid out. After a couple of days, most of them cleared out. We went back to the house and grabbed what food we had and this." He raised the bottle and poured another drink for himself.
"Been here ever since. Haven't seen many the last few days. Just a few stragglers here and there. I pick them off from the window in the attic."
"I’m sorry to hear about your wife, Mr. J. I wish we had come sooner. Maybe…" Wade trailed off.
"Well, that brings us to why you’re here now," Mr. Jenkins said.
"Honestly, we came to forage for weapons and ammo. We figured if you were here, we could take you back to the compound with us, and if not, we planned on clearing out all the weapons and ammo we could," Wade said sheepishly.
"Compound? What are you talking about?" Jenkins said.
"My Uncle Ben's place. We’ve fortified it and have almost 600 people living there at the moment. Lots of people to defend it. We have been going out daily to bring supplies back. There is plenty of food and provisions stocked up and security measures have been added to make it a place that will allow us to survive."
"Well, there’s nothing left here for me. I may as well throw my lot in with you folks. Besides, it will be good to have Ben to chew the fat with. We go way back, you know," Jenkins said, downing another shot of Jack.
"We will help you bury Mrs. Jenkins and then we can clean out the guns and ammo," Wade said.
Just then, the sounds of vehicles getting closer reached their ears. Mr. Jenkins turned off the lantern and took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He knew the shop like the back of his hand, so in a few seconds he was moving and made his way over to the window. He reached up and carefully slid a section away from the board covering the window. In a low whisper he called Wade and Jessie over. He had cut holes in the boards to allow a way not only to see but shoot out of, if need be. Two pickups pulled into the lot in front of the shop. As they stood listening, boots crunched on gravel.
"Okay, let’s clean it out, boys," said a voice outside.
Mr. Jenkins told the boys to keep watch and disappeared into the darkness. Wade took his place at the window and Jessie relocated to a window on the opposite side of the door. Aaron took position at the window to Wade's right. The group had gathered in front of one of the pickups.
"Wait!" barked one of the men as the others turned towards the front door. "This Rover wasn't here the other day. Someone may be in there," he said, motioning for the men to regroup.
"You’re damn right someone's here, the owner. Now you boys go about your business and I won't have to shoot anyone," Mr. Jenkins called down from the window above.
"That's not very neighborly of you, Mr. Jenkins. We living need to stick together these days. We just want to get some weapons to protect ourselves. I'm Carl Asher. I have lived ‘round these parts most of my life," the man called up to Mr. Jenkins.
"Asher, you say, any relation to Zachary? Jenkins inquired.
"Yep, that is my pap,” Carl replied.
"Well, never liked Zachary much. Matter of fact, can't remember an Asher that ever was worth a squirt of piss. These weapons are already claimed. Now, I suggest you leave my property while you’re still able."
"Listen, old man, you can open up and let us take what we need, or we can blow you and that termite pile of a building apart and take what we want. We have you outmanned. Your choice, asshole," Carl yelled.
Wade was already taking aim on the men. He thought there were at least eight. Rot-bags were one thing … eight of them, no problem; they were slow and stupid. It was much harder to predict what men would do and just how far they would go. It could be a sketchy situation if it came down to a firefight. Wade knew without a doubt that Mr. Jenkins would not willingly hand over the contents of the shop to these men.
Wade looked at Jessie.
"Shit is about to get real. Keep your ass wired tight."
Jessie gave Wade a nod as he brought his weapon up to the window and sighted in on the group of men outside. Wade turned to the right and received a similar nod from Aaron.
"Well, maybe if I feed you some pineapples, you'll change your mind," shouted old man Jenkins.
Just then, all hell unleashed outside. One of the trucks the men had arrived in blossomed into a huge fireball as a grenade landed in the bed. The explosion lit the night like mid-day. Two of the men fell to the ground and the rest ran for cover behind the other pickup.
Wade heard the report of a shotgun booming from the upper floor of the shop. The sound snapped Wade back to the moment and he started firing, with Jessie and Aaron following suit just seconds later. Wade managed to drop a target as did Jessie before the men could scramble out of the line of fire.
Bullets peppered the front of the gun shop and the glass of the windows shattered from the barrage of fire. Seconds later, there was another ear-splitting blast as Mr. Jenkins hurled another grenade from the window upstairs, hitting the truck that was already a smoldering heap.
"Now, Asher, that could have just as easily hit the other truck you’re hiding behind. I suggest you use it while you’re still able and get the hell off my property. I have plenty of these here grenades and I will blow every last one of your asses to hell if you make me!" Mr. Jenkins shouted.
"All right, old man. We're going, but you’re gonna regret this," Asher yelled back with false bravado.
The men climbed into the truck and, with gravel flying, sped out of the parking lot and back down Mt. Carmel Road. Wade and Jessie both issued a sigh of relief. The noise of the battle would draw any rot-bags in the vicinity without a doubt. Wade felt better about dealing with the dead than the living, though.
Just then, Mr. Jenkins came into the room and turned the lantern on again.
"Boys, I guess we better get while the gettin' is good. Unless I miss my guess, they will be back. Them Ashers are like cock-a-roaches. They come outta the woodwork when you stir them up. I never met a one of them that amounted to a hill of beans," Mr. Jenkins said, spitting on the floor. "My Suburban is loaded plum full of ammo and some specialty items I had that weren't for sale to the general public. You boys pull your vehicle around and start loading whatever else you want to take. I am gonna set this place ablaze when we leave. I don't want those devils getting their hands on any more weapons than what they have already," Mr. Jenkins said as he headed to the back door.
Wade, Aaron, and Jessie sprang into action and started boxing up as much ammo and weapons as they could. After forty minutes of hauling boxes out of the shop, they had the Rover packed to
capacity, as well as Aaron's Explorer. Mr. Jenkins parked his Suburban behind the shop, and it was loaded to the gills.
"Do you want to bury Mrs. J before we go?" Wade asked.
"I would like to. She deserves to be laid to rest," he replied, his head lowered.
Aaron and Jessie dug a grave. Mr. Jenkins said he wanted to make a marker for her grave. Wade busied himself with checking to ensure they took everything they could squeeze into the three vehicles.
By the time they had laid Ms. J to rest and loaded everything, it was almost dawn. Mr. Jenkins then walked up carrying two five-gallon gas cans.
“Here, soak down the shop with this while I take care of the house. I don’t want those fricking Ashers to get so much as a bullet,” Mr. Jenkins said.
Wade walked inside to carry out the owner’s wishes. He doused the counter and trailed a line of gas to the back door. Then the brothers waited. After a few minutes, flames blossomed in the front windows of the Jenkins’ house. Moments later, Mr. Jenkins walked down the drive towards the shop. He had the look of a man who had just gone twelve rounds with the champion of the world. He turned and gazed at his home as the front windows exploded into the night air. The flames, with a hunger all their own, devoured the house in minutes.
"I was born in that house. My daddy built it with his own two hands. Damn shame to see it burn," Mr. Jenkins said, emotion straining his voice.
"Think we better go up to Calmes Neck Road and cross over to Uncle Ben's place. We don't want to run into Asher and his friends out on the road," Wade said as he tossed a book of matches through the back door of the shop.
Wade knew he would have a tongue lashing coming his way when they got back to the farm. Glenn and the rest would have returned long ago, and nobody would have been able to tell Kelly where he and Jessie had gone. He watched briefly as the line of gas ignited and crawled deeper into the shop. It moved quickly to fully engulf the main room. He and Jessie climbed into the Rover and left the gravel lot of Jenkins Guns and Ammo, a bright orange glow lighting their way.
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