by Tim Moon
From the looks of it, they had found a body. When they walked closer the first hint of death’s cologne reached his nostrils, which crinkled in disgust. Light flashed back at him, reflecting off something metallic. He sucked in a breath, but nothing happened. Charlotte stared at the body, fixated. Ben quickly looked around to make sure they weren’t ambushed. He sensed no movement and no sound other than their own.
When they were just ten feet away, the form materialized into something recognizable, a man’s body curled up on his side in the fetal position. Dried blood stained the concrete floor around him and the glint of light Ben had seen was a silver hammer on the floor. The hammer head was stained with blood.
John Doe in the hardware store with a hammer, he thought with amusement. However, unlike Clue, this was no game.
Just to be sure the man was fully dead, Ben nudged the body with his bat. It didn’t move. He stepped around to the other side and nudged the body again. The man didn’t move.
Ben motioned with his hand for them to keep going, so they continued their security sweep. Ten minutes later, they were satisfied the store was safe and began collecting supplies.
First on Ben’s mental list was wood for the rooftop lookout. So, they started hauling out two-by-fours and four-by-four posts. Ben and Charlotte also loaded up on plywood. Rather than take a bunch of trips, they took four large pieces of plywood in one go and managed to fit three loads.
Excitement buzzed through Ben at the possibilities. The store was a gold mind. If no other survivors ended up raiding the store, they could use all the wood they wanted. He figured there was enough in the store to build a small house if they were so inclined. Imagination and some hard work were the only limits to what they could do with their fortifications.
“There’s so much wood here, we could probably build a wall all the way around the house,” Ben said. “Maybe even enough to wall off the ends of the block.”
“I need a break,” Charlotte said, shaking out her arms.
Apparently, his enthusiasm wasn’t contagious.
“Are you okay staying here alone?” Ben asked. “I have some stuff I need for the sniper’s nest.”
“It went from a lookout to a sniper’s nest, huh?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Have fun shopping. I’ll wait here.”
“If you see anything, let me know,” Ben said. “But remember, silence is survival. So, no gunshots or honking the horn.”
“No problem. I’ll send you a letter.”
“How about an owl, like Harry Potter?” Ben winked at her.
“Nerd.”
With a quick wave, he went back inside for the things he needed. This time he decided to use a shopping cart. It took a few tries to find one that didn’t rattle and clank like a freight train. Once he had an acceptable cart, Ben went to the roofing supplies. The sniper’s nest needed to be durable to withstand the weather of the Northwest. He picked up roof sealant, flashing, nails and shingles.
Once it was weighed down by the large buckets of sealant, the cart slowed him down, but it still had plenty of space for more loot. Ben found fasteners and grabbed whole boxes of screws and staples, along with a few staple guns. Soon their home would be a virtual fortress. A smile came to Ben’s face as he continued down the aisle.
For the ladder on the roof, Ben chose thick metal brackets and bolts to hold it in place, along with beefy screws. Tie down straps and bungee cords could be useful, so he loaded a healthy selection of those along with rolls of rope ranging in thickness from string to paracord on up to half-inch thick rope.
A few oddities drew his attention. In another aisle, he chose a roll of galvanized steel cable, a twenty-foot steel chain with hooks on the ends, and six pulleys. He threw in some shackles with screw pins, two pairs of bolt cutters, a roll of plastic-coated wire rope, wire rope thimbles, and pliers.
The yard tools section looked more like a weapons vault given the circumstances. Even though they had shovels and spades he took a few more just in case. The real gems were the sickles, bush axes, and machetes. He took five of each to top off his cart.
“Don’t mess with us,” Ben muttered to himself with a grin.
His cart was full and heavy as shit, which made walking back to the truck twice as long. Charlotte and her radiant beauty greeted him when he finally emerged from the gloomy interior. Her eyes widened as she took in all the stuff he’d collected.
“I was starting to get worried,” she said as a smile crept across her face. “Now I see why it took so long.”
“We’ll definitely be coming here on a regular basis.”
“What is all this stuff?”
“Rope and cable for trip lines and snares, shingles for the sniper’s nest, some pulleys to get things onto the roof, and tools to piece it all together,” he said, gesturing to the machetes. “Not to mention weapons to quietly take down infected.”
“Very impressive, Mr. Chase,” Charlotte said with a sexy smile and a playful bounce of her eyebrows. She stepped in close and ran a finger down his arm. A flash of excitement coursed through him.
It was the first time they had been truly alone. A fire kindled inside him and before he had even made a conscious choice, Ben wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her close. Their lips met like magnets, unable and unwilling to pull away. She met his passion with equal intensity. Eager. Hungry.
He slipped his hand under her jacket, onto the smooth, warm skin of her lower back. Then they were scrambling for the door of the truck, climbing into the crew cab and falling into each other’s heated embrace.
20
After loading all the supplies into the truck, and clearing the condensation from the windows, Ben drove down Mill Plain Blvd with a big stupid grin. The drive was quiet, comfortable. A beautiful winter day.
The best day since meeting her, he thought.
“Look,” she whispered, pointing.
Four savagely injured zombies glared their way with dark eyes. The infected had trudged across a strip mall parking lot. When they caught the sound of the truck all four turned in their direction. Ben didn’t give the infected a chance to close the distance. He pressed on the accelerator and they passed by in a flash. In the rear-view mirror, Ben saw them follow hopelessly in their wake. Thankfully, none were runners.
He let out a sigh of relief.
Charlotte glanced around, confusion in her eyes. “Are we headed home?”
“There’s an outdoors shop up here with hunting and fishing gear. I think we should check it out.”
“If you think it’s worth exploring then I’m up for it.” Charlotte scanned the back seat which was stuffed with supplies from the home improvement store. “We still have room in the back seat.”
Ben stopped in the intersection, when they arrived near SportsMart to scan the area for infected or signs of survivors. Wet leaves bunched together along the curb, their damp brown edges flapping in the breeze. A crow swooped past the windshield, landed on top of a street sign and stared down at them. It was unsettling, but crows wouldn’t attack them. Many of the storefronts in the strip mall were smashed in. Whether from looting, gun fights, or infected it was hard to say.
“It looks safe over here,” Charlotte said.
“I’m clear too.”
He parked directly in front of SportsMart. The security grill was bent open and the glass doors behind it were busted out. Not a great sign.
“Stay alert,” Ben said. “We weren’t the first to think of this place.”
Charlotte looked at the entrance and sniffed. “We can handle it.”
Ben looked at the security grill and didn’t feel so certain. Squeezing through the hole wouldn’t be a problem if nothing went wrong. Anyone inside would have an easy shot since he’d be silhouetted in a tight space. He’d have to crawl for his life, yet another first.
“Same thing as before, I guess. We walk the main aisles together before we shop,” he said.
“What kind of stuff do we
need from a SportsMart?” Charlotte asked.
“Everything.”
“I’m serious.”
“Fine. Dehydrated food, ammo, warm clothing, more knives and guns. You can never have too many, right?”
“We have enough guns to restart the NRA.”
“Let’s not get crazy now,” Ben said with a soft chuckle.
Clicking his flashlight on, Ben led the way inside. Chunks of glass crunched under his feet as he stepped through. Once inside, he swept the glass to the side with his foot and waited for Charlotte to enter.
It was much darker inside SportsMart than at the home improvement store and the aisles were not laid out in plain orderly rows. One half of the store had shelves set at a variety of angles while the other half had clothing, with several tall shelves for shoes and other hanging items. All of it made checking for infected far more difficult. Although the place had been plundered before their arrival, plenty of excellent gear remained.
Stalking through the store, they cleared the half with shelves first. Ben’s eyes grew wide at the dozens of things he wanted. Things like portable solar panels for charging electronics, headlamps, archery gear, and binoculars. Just like the hardware store, they would need to make more than one trip to plunder all his booty.
“Hell, yeah,” Ben whispered. “Another gold mine.”
At the back of the store, was a hallway with restrooms and a drinking fountain. He pressed the push bar on the fountain just for kicks. Nothing happened since it relied on electricity. Both bathrooms were empty, and the other doors were locked. He followed Charlotte back onto the sales floor.
Almost time to shop, he thought.
Turning left along the back wall, they walked past inflatable rafts and fishing gear. A dull bump startled them both. Ben spun around with his bat raised. He couldn’t tell exactly which direction it’d come from. His best guess was along the back wall.
Ben heard a light scraping sound, like a shoe being dragged across carpet and another dull thump. The movement could have been infected, but the sound stopped which was unusual. He didn’t hear the tell-tale growling noises either. His muscles tensed, and he stood ready to pounce.
A survivor? Ben slid his bat into a loop on the backpack and drew his pistol.
Charlotte tapped him on the shoulder and pointed. His eyes widened at a pair of doors on the back wall that he had missed. The black plastic doors suggested that they led to the stockroom. One of the last places they needed to check before it would have been safe to start shopping.
Ben motioned towards the doors. She saw he was holding his pistol, so she set her bat down and raised her rifle. The crept towards the door and paused briefly.
Holding up three fingers, Ben counted down before kicking the doors open. They rushed in, fingers on their triggers. Metal shelves held boxes and pallets of merchandise.
Turning to the left, the bright glow of their flashlights revealed a lone man cowering beside a pallet of boxes. He wasn’t even hiding well. He stared with wide, frightened eyes, holding one hand up to block the light while his other held a knife.
“Please,” he said in a voice thick with fear. “I’m not infected.”
Next to the merchandise was an empty pallet with a blue sleeping pad topped with a sleeping bag and pillow. A small backpack sat open on the floor beside the other items.
“Are you alone?” Ben asked in a sharp voice.
The man blinked and glanced at Charlotte with her rifle aimed at his chest, fear swirling in his eyes. All at once, he seemed to realize he was holding the knife. He dropped it. The metal clanged against the concrete floor as he raised his hands in surrender.
“Please, don’t shoot me,” he said.
“Are you alone?” Ben repeated much slower.
“It’s just me. No one else. Just me.”
“Do you have any other weapons?” Ben asked.
The man shook his head, hands open above his head so they could see for themselves.
“Stand up, please.”
When the man stood, Ben stepped forward and patted him down with one hand. Underneath a thick winter jacket, the man wore a white lab coat and blue scrubs. Ben checked all the obvious spots and then the sneaky ones - lower back, waistband, and ankles. He even patted down the hood of the jacket and the guy’s upper back in case he tried to pull a John McClane. To his surprise, the guy really was unarmed.
“You can put your hands down,” Ben said, eyeing the man carefully. Something felt off. He began to check the man’s gear for weapons or other clues. “How about you sit down too.” Glancing at Charlotte, he said, “Watch him while I clear the room. Shoot him if he tries anything. Seriously, anything at all.”
The stock room held floor to ceiling shelves loaded with pallets of product. He wasn’t about to go climbing the shelves to check every conceivable hiding place, but he did shine his flashlight. The room smelled like plastic, dusty cardboard and garbage. Near the loading dock was a trash compactor—explaining the stench—a cardboard baler and a small forklift.
Ben found two unmarked doors along the far wall across from the loading dock. He carefully opened the first one. It turned out to be a small utility closet. The next one had cleaning supplies.
When Ben returned to Charlotte and the man, it looked like they hadn’t moved at all. She stood a safe distance from him with the rifle aimed at his chest.
Her eyes met Ben’s with an obvious question.
“All clear,” he said. Her posture immediately relaxed.
Ben looked around slowly, feeling like he missed something.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“I’m Mark Anderson,” he said with apparent effort.
“Hi, Mark. I’m Ben. What are you doing here? Are you with a group?”
Mark shook his head. “I’m just trying to survive. Like I said before I’m alone.”
Ben nodded in understanding. “Are you going home to your family?”
“No family.” Mark’s eyes crinkled as if in pain, and a frown tugged at his lips. “Everyone I know is… dead.”
That wasn’t a big surprise. Ben figured it would be nearly impossible to find anyone these days that hadn’t lost most of the people they’d known.
“Why don’t you have a gun?” Charlotte asked. “A knife will only do so much, and this place is loaded with weapons.”
“I’m not much of a fighter,” Mark mumbled sheepishly.
“What are you then?” Ben asked although he already had an idea based on the man’s clothing.
“I’m a doctor. I used to work at Vancouver Medical Center.”
Ben’s eyebrows shot up. “We were just there the other day.”
“You know how bad it is then,” he said. “That’s where I was when, you know, things got out of control. We tried to figure out how to help the patients, but nothing worked. I lost all my friends. It was…”—his shoulders trembled— “awful.”
“We’ve all lost people,” Charlotte said softly.
She gave Ben a look and glanced at Mark. Ben read it as her wanting the guy to join their group. Ben wasn’t convinced. It could be a trap. They had encountered other survivors who caused trouble, anything was possible.
Who travels half way across town without a weapon?
Mark’s knife wasn’t from the hospital. It looked practically brand new. SportsMart was packed with knives and guns. He could have taken it off the shelf, but that wasn’t the only the thing that bothered Ben. The stockroom seemed a little too clean, too neat. Was it because Steve was a doctor?
“How did you survive if you’re not a fighter?” Ben asked.
“If they don’t see or hear you, they don’t attack.”
“You hid the whole time your friends were being attacked?”
“Ben!” Charlotte snapped.
“What?”
“Don’t be rude.”
Ben scowled. “This isn’t the time to worry about his feelings. Did you or did you not hide while your friends died
?”
“I’m sorry, he’s not usually like this,” Charlotte said.
“Don’t apologize to him.”
“Stop! Just stop,” Mark said, standing up.
Ben raised his pistol at Mark, who held up his hands.
“It’s true. I hid at the hospital. I locked myself into a room and stayed there until things… Until they stopped screaming…” A tear streaked down Mark’s cheek. He didn’t speak for a few seconds. “There were so many. It was total chaos. People screaming, dying, security staff fought with patients who were trying to bite them, gun shots were going off.”
Ben slowly lowered his gun as he listened.
“I couldn’t have helped anyone,” Mark said. “Trained security guards and cops couldn’t deal with it and I’ve never even been in a fight. What was I going to do?”
Charlotte looked like she wanted to give the man a hug. Ben scoffed and walked away.
“Doing something is better than doing nothing,” he called over his shoulder.
“I’m not proud of it,” Mark said to Ben before he disappeared through the swinging doors back into the store.
Ben tuned out the excuses. These days, there was no room for cowards. They put everyone at risk. He relaxed a little since Mark wasn’t a fighter. The store was most likely clear of danger. Still, it would have nagged at him not to finish the sweep, so he went back to clearing the sales floor.
As he walked through the clothing section, Ben thought about asking Mark to join them. A doctor would be helpful, no doubt about it. Could they suffer having someone that couldn’t, or wouldn’t, fight?
Ben arrived at the front of the store without reaching a decision.
Pulling a shopping cart free, Ben made his way to the closest aisle. The first thing he reached for was a large Maglite.
“Ben?” Charlotte called softly.
Ben leaned out of the aisle to wave her down. She sighted in on him and dashed over.
“Shouldn’t we see if the doctor wants to come with us? He could still be useful, and it doesn’t look like he’s doing much around here,” Charlotte said.