the store. Past a small parking area, I kept low
and looked for a way inside. The edge of one of the plate windows was broken,
leaving a small gap at the edge of the sill. Tempting fate, I pulled a shard of
the glass away and widened the opening. I shook my head at how stupid an idea
it was to crawl under a pane of glass that could easily cut me in two. With a
deep breath, I slid through as the shard shook with my movements.
One
of them was inside, maybe since the beginning. He could have been anyone. He
could have been a survivor looking for food or an employee locked in when
everything went to hell. It was hard to tell.
I
sidestepped the creature, grazing the side of its jacket. It let out a mournful
moan. It was as if it were begging me to let it eat. I stared at its misery and
watched it drag itself forward. I pulled the pistol and pointed it at its head.
I watched it waver there, almost entranced.
I
looked into its eyes, just a brief, fleeting glance. I knew what I had to do,
but the guilt kept me back, kept me moving away. It had such powerful sadness
in its eyes. I breathed deep and it moved forward, arms outstretched.
As
it came closer, I leaned to the side and used my free hand to grab at its
jacket. With a healthy wad of fabric in my hands, I tossed it to the floor,
tripping it over my leg. I pulled the jacket over its head and wadded the
material into a ball above its forehead as it struggled. I placed the pistol
into the wadding of jean and grime. Gritting my teeth, I pulled the trigger. A
muted snap and the body went limp.
I
left its jacket balled up over its face. I couldn’t bring myself to look at it
again. Another deep breath and I stood. I looked around to get my bearings and
scoped a set of shelves with canned goods neatly placed in a row. Vegetables
and canned meat, fruit cocktail and soup all lined the shelves. With the bag
open, I began to swipe the food by the armload into the opening until it was
full. I zipped it up and heaved it over my shoulder.
I
went through the rest of the store and filled my pockets with odds and ends. I
took off my jacket and made a pouch and stuffed all the water I could carry
inside and strung a length of twine from my pocket around it, making a bundle.
Even
as far away as I was, I could still hear the music that Mary played. It was
faint and gave me a sense of security. To know there was someone out there
waiting for me brought a happiness I hadn’t known in a long time.
With
the weight on my back, and the bundled jacket at my side, I was forced to keep
my movements slow and ordered, watching every step, treading carefully for fear
of the cans clanking and bringing the dead. Every time I heard them adjust in
the pack, I would stop and check my surroundings, waiting for the dead to
appear. It took me twice as long to get back to Mary as it had to find the
market, and by the time I finally arrived, I was exhausted.
The
music was still playing and Mary was waiting at the door for me when I made it
back. She let a simple smile grace her face. She unlatched the locks and I slid
in, scraping the pack on the doorframe.
“You
did it,” she said in a relieved sigh.
“Of
course I did.” I smiled and hefted the pack off my shoulders.
I
followed her up the stairs and waited for her to enter first. I dropped the bag
to the couch and watched her face brighten when I opened it, revealing what I
had found.
“The
whole store was packed,” I said. “I was worried, I thought maybe those
neighbors of yours had got to it first.”
“I
don’t think they need to,” she replied. “There are a lot of food distribution
centers over that way. They’re probably living off that.”
“So
what’s the deal with them, anyway?”
“I
don’t know much about them,” she said. “All I can tell you is that they came
and killed and took people against their will. Beyond that, I have no idea.”
“Surely
you’ve seen something.”
“They
don’t come around this way. Every
and looked for a way inside. The edge of one of the plate windows was broken,
leaving a small gap at the edge of the sill. Tempting fate, I pulled a shard of
the glass away and widened the opening. I shook my head at how stupid an idea
it was to crawl under a pane of glass that could easily cut me in two. With a
deep breath, I slid through as the shard shook with my movements.
One
of them was inside, maybe since the beginning. He could have been anyone. He
could have been a survivor looking for food or an employee locked in when
everything went to hell. It was hard to tell.
I
sidestepped the creature, grazing the side of its jacket. It let out a mournful
moan. It was as if it were begging me to let it eat. I stared at its misery and
watched it drag itself forward. I pulled the pistol and pointed it at its head.
I watched it waver there, almost entranced.
I
looked into its eyes, just a brief, fleeting glance. I knew what I had to do,
but the guilt kept me back, kept me moving away. It had such powerful sadness
in its eyes. I breathed deep and it moved forward, arms outstretched.
As
it came closer, I leaned to the side and used my free hand to grab at its
jacket. With a healthy wad of fabric in my hands, I tossed it to the floor,
tripping it over my leg. I pulled the jacket over its head and wadded the
material into a ball above its forehead as it struggled. I placed the pistol
into the wadding of jean and grime. Gritting my teeth, I pulled the trigger. A
muted snap and the body went limp.
I
left its jacket balled up over its face. I couldn’t bring myself to look at it
again. Another deep breath and I stood. I looked around to get my bearings and
scoped a set of shelves with canned goods neatly placed in a row. Vegetables
and canned meat, fruit cocktail and soup all lined the shelves. With the bag
open, I began to swipe the food by the armload into the opening until it was
full. I zipped it up and heaved it over my shoulder.
I
went through the rest of the store and filled my pockets with odds and ends. I
took off my jacket and made a pouch and stuffed all the water I could carry
inside and strung a length of twine from my pocket around it, making a bundle.
Even
as far away as I was, I could still hear the music that Mary played. It was
faint and gave me a sense of security. To know there was someone out there
waiting for me brought a happiness I hadn’t known in a long time.
With
the weight on my back, and the bundled jacket at my side, I was forced to keep
my movements slow and ordered, watching every step, treading carefully for fear
of the cans clanking and bringing the dead. Every time I heard them adjust in
the pack, I would stop and check my surroundings, waiting for the dead to
appear. It took me twice as long to get back to Mary as it had to find the
market, and by the time I finally arrived, I was exhausted.
The
music was still playing and Mary was waiting at the door for me when I made it
back. She let a simple smile grace her face. She unlatched the locks and I slid
in, scraping the pack on the doorframe.
“You
did it,” she said in a relieved sigh.
“Of
course I did.” I smiled and hefted the pack off my shoulders.
I
followed her up the stairs and waited for her to enter first. I dropped the bag
to the couch and watched her face brighten when I opened it, revealing what I
had found.
“The
whole store was packed,” I said. “I was worried, I thought maybe those
neighbors of yours had got to it first.”
“I
don’t think they need to,” she replied. “There are a lot of food distribution
centers over that way. They’re probably living off that.”
“So
what’s the deal with them, anyway?”
“I
don’t know much about them,” she said. “All I can tell you is that they came
and killed and took people against their will. Beyond that, I have no idea.”
“Surely
you’ve seen something.”
“They
don’t come around this way. Every
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