“Just shoot it!” she whispered. I shook my head. “We still don't know how many more there are inside. It's just the two of us. Your boy can only see so far and with the glass, he might hit one of us.” When I saw the exasperated look on her face, my stomach tightened. She stood up and walked deliberately to the door, opened it and I stood and watched her through the window as she leveled her arm up and began walking towards the zombie shambling around in rear of the store. It hadn't noticed her yet but it didn't matter. There was a flash and a muffled pop as she blew the thing's head apart with a single shot. As I watched she spun on her axis and held the gun towards the doorway leading to the rear of the store and held her ground. Sure enough another zombie came out and turned to her and I saw the snarl on it's face forming before it disappeared in a greyish-red mist. I watched her and she stood there holding her ground. The barrel of the gun never wavering from where the second one came out. Nothing moved for a long moment from inside, but she held firm. Something inside me told me it was my turn to get in the store. I walked to the door and saw her turn and level the gun at me for a moment before she pivoted back to the open doorway. I was going to sheath my sword again and re-draw my pistol before feeling kind of foolish, like I couldn't make up my mind which weapon to use.
I opened the door and stepped inside. I saw out of the corner of my eye that she acknowledge my presence with a quick nod and focused again on the open door way. I held my sword at the ready and moved towards the back. Just then something moved to my left and without thinking I spun and swung my sword hard and caught the zombie that was behind the counter alongside it's head. It grunted and then began to drop, threatening to take my sword with it. I had to twist and pull the blade out before it was yanked out of my hand, and in doing so knocked over a lighter display making a racket. I turned sheepishly to her and caught her grin before she lost it and fired her weapon once more. I turned to the open door way and watched as another zombie went down behind the counter with it's brain and skull pieces splattering on the wall behind it. That made for three so far. Hopefully that was all.
I thought it odd that these two were ducked down behind the counter. Then I recalled that I never did get around to checking it during my initial sweep of the store yesterday. I stepped over one of the dead zombies that she shot, and went into the open door way as soon as I reached it and looked down the corridor. It was empty. Behind me the back door was partially opened. I moved over to it and pulled it shut. I could hear the woman moving through the store towards where I was. I waited til she arrived. Her gun was now pointed at the floor but she still held it in both hands at the ready. “Nice shootin Tex” I muttered with an exaggerated drawl, and began working my way back to the beer-cooler. I doubt that any of the zombies had managed to get inside there, but I was guessing there was still one more living occupant still looking for a way out.
I held the sword out back behind me, looked at the woman who stood where she was and was looking at me then glancing out the front windows before looking at me again. She gave a nod. I opened the cooler door wide and took a step back. Sure enough the clerk was still inside, untouched.
As I made to step inside the cooler my eyes caught a quick movement and I stepped aside. The cat zipped past me, startling the woman and she nearly shot it before recognizing what it was.
The cat saw her and slid to a halt. It's ears flattened on it's head now realizing that it was trapped between two humans, it's body hugged the floor and tried to keep watch on both of us at the same time. I ignored it and went into the cooler to see if anything was worth salvaging. Now I felt confident that the store was empty. From inside the cooler I could hear the woman, talking to the cat. Good luck with that I thought to myself, damned thing is likely feral and is going to scratch the crap out of her. A mean thought, I'm sure but I was still wrestling with some feelings I had about her. Wasn't quite sure what to make of all of them and where they were headed. I ignored the turmoil for the time being and focused on clearing the store.
Inside the cooler along one wall there were cases of beer that had been knocked over, most of the cardboard boxes had softened enough that cans were scattered across the floor. There were also a few stacks of 2 liter bottles of soda, sitting in their plastic shipping containers. Against another wall was a tall stack of gallon milk bottles. Too bad, those were surely gone over and turned to curd by now. Opening one of those would be like cutting open a zombie's gut. I sheathed my sword finally and bent to grab a couple of two liter bottles of Sprite and tucked them under my arm. With my free-hand I gotten a six-pack of Milwaukee's Best that was still in one piece. Wasn't my first choice but beggars ain't going to be choosers, besides they were the only ones that were still together in their plastic ring-binders. I made my way back out of the cooler. In the corridor the woman was holding the cat and petting it making soothing sounds. “Hmph!” I snorted and got her attention, “I was betting it was going to scratch your eyes out.” She grinned and shrugged, “guess I got a way with animals”.
“Yeah, I reckon” I stated as I stepped past her holding my loot and moved out into the store. From the front windows I saw someone moving towards the store and nearly dropped my drinks. “Hey!” I called back sharply, “get your ass out here!” I heard a thump as she obviously dropped the cat and moved quickly to the interior of the store with her weapon held at the ready. As soon as she reached me she too looked out the windows and after a moment, lowered and holstered her gun. “That's my kid, it means that the walkers are long gone.”
“How does he know that for sure?” I asked hesitantly. She turned and began her own scavenging, “because we've done this a few times and it's gotten pretty routine.” Her voice was calm, almost casual as she began plucking items off the shelves or the floor, examining them and putting them back on the shelf or dropping them back on the floor and moving on down the aisle. I put my drinks on the counter and watched the boy walk his way over to us. He had what appeared to be a high-powered rifle strapped to his back, the stock of the weapon nearly touched the ground as the barrel towered over his head. He wore this over what looked like an overly large guilly suit. The hood of the suit was thrown back and he wore a black ball cap with some logo that I couldn't make out at first. His clothing was hidden underneath the fabric and camouflage of the guilly.
He had a pack in one hand and a piece of folded metal in the other that could've only been the tree-stand he was using, To my shock, I realized that he couldn't have been no more than 15 years old. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Are you kidding me? That's your kid? This is who blew those zombie's heads off. The gun is bigger than him!”
The woman turned and smiled proudly at her son as he reached the parking lot and stepped over the bodies of the walkers that he shot earlier. She stood quietly watching him, then resumed her scavenging, I stood there, watching him get closer. I saw immediately that he didn't take his eyes off of me except to glance quickly left and right and a quick peek over his shoulder. This kid was trained very well I could see. What else I could see was a dark look in his eyes as he threaded his way past the gas pumps and made his way to the front door. I didn't like the look in his eyes as he opened the door and stepped inside.
Immediately he shook his weapon off his shoulder and moved it to where he pointed the barrel at my gut. There was a click as he removed the safety off. The barrel never wavered. “You almost got my mom killed” he challenged. His voice was strong, but the pronunciation was a bit off. As if he was speaking from inside his head instead of his throat at how the words should sound. I didn't move and waited. In a moment the woman moved to us and faced her son but keeping out of the way of the barrel which was still disconcertingly pointed at my gut. Her hands moved rapidly and I watched the boy's eyes flick to her and then back at me. In his eyes I could see a mental struggle that I didn't like at all, but I still didn't move a muscle and trusted the woman to disarm him, hoping that she wasn't telling him to kill me later. The barrel of the gun lowered and pointed at the floor and the boy shifted the weapon to a crook in his arm and he signed back to his mother.
She shook her head vehemently and signed again, her movements were brisk and there was a tension in her shoulders that I could make out as she “spoke” to him. After a moment, I heard another distinct click as he thumbed the safety and set the butt of the rifle on the floor and leaned it against the counter. He locked his eyes with mine and then spat out a word.
“Athsshole”.
He put his pack on the floor by the gun and began removing the guilly suit and let it fall to a heap on the floor beside the pack, then moved to the door way and stood there looking out with his back turned to us. I could now see that he was heavily armed. A large knife in a belt sheath at his side, and tied at the bottom around his leg on his left. On his right hip an semi-automatic pistol that looked like a glock, the squared edges of the pistol that made the gun unique in the shooting world, resting in a hard cased holster. His fingers unsnapped the strap that held the gun in place. He moved his head in a slow turn left and right watching the parking lot, temporarily ignoring me.
His mother turned to me and had that apologetic look of parents whose children had embarrassed them and without a word she turned back to scavenging. I held my ground for a moment before letting out the breath of air that I didn't realize that I was holding and slowly turned. Lucky I did, as the zombie that was reaching out towards the woman was only a step away from her. Without thinking I drew my sword and held it high over my head before striking down and splitting the skull through. She turned with her pistol in her hand, eyes wide as she watched the front part of the walker's skull slide off and thump to the floor with a gristly thud, followed by the body. This had been the other zombie I spotted on the floor. I gave myself a mental kick for not checking to see if it was dead. Apparently it was a sleeper. But I was bothered that it didn't rise from the sound of the woman shooting the others. Something wasn't right about that at all.
I bent and wiped my blade against the dead-walker's clothes before putting it back in the sheath. I looked at the woman who still stared at the body and then looked at the boy who was staring at me with equally wide eyes, definitely his mother's eyes as they were just as blue as hers. His pistol was in his hands and pointed at me for a moment before lowering it. I was lucky that he didn't blast my head off. Well trained indeed. It was then I decided to stay with this odd couple, if they would have me, and I could learn a bit more about them. I felt myself intrigued.
Normally, I'd get whatever I wanted and move on, leaving others to fend for themselves. Sometimes I'd hook up with a group, if they were small enough and slum with them for a day or two before moving on.
Large groups tended to be complicated and had more of a paranoia factor involved along with a understandable tendency to be greedy with the supplies at hand. Smaller groups gave me the idea that they were under the impression that the whole world was available to them and that supplies could be had, just as we were doing now, without cutting into another's share. The largest group I hung out with had about a dozen or so with a leader who exhibited a sort of mix between messiah and dictator. I was with them for a day and a half before slipping away in the night and putting some miles between me and them, before resting for the night. They just didn't lend an air of confidence that I would be comfortable with them, nor they with me.
As I scavenged some dented cans of chili, checking for leaks or other signs of possible contamination, I caught the woman staring at me. I stopped what I was doing and turned to her. “What?” I asked trying to keep my tone from being defensive. She pointed at my back with a grin. “That pack doesn't seem to come off of you very often does it?” I shrugged my shoulders and felt it's comforting weight. “This pack and I have a good history together, saved my life more than once, I don't have to worry about amscraying suddenly and leaving it behind accidentally.” I explained. Her eyebrows went up in a “ohh-kay” gesture and she resumed her hunt for food. Every now and again she would pick out an item and walk it over to a shelf and set it alongside others that she had put there, creating a small cache. I noted that her eyes also glanced out the windows to scan the outside. I didn't get the impression that she didn't trust her son but as the adage goes, two are always better than one.
In about 15 minutes we had gotten everything that we were going to find and set about packing the supplies in our respective packs. I spied the cat walking calmly past me and remembered my promise to myself. I moved over to where the pet supplies were and found two un-opened or torn bags of dried cat food.
I picked one of them up and unceremoniously tore it open along the top and poured the contents out on the floor in a untidy heap, then did the same with the second. Turning back to the shelf I saw a stack of canned cat food with pull tab tops, thought about it for a moment then shrugged to myself. The little bastard earned it. As I popped open a can and shook the contents out on top of the dried cat food pile the woman stepped around the aisle and watched me.
“Animal
lover?” she asked. I shook my head. “Not necessarily,” I began
as I opened a second can and began dumping the contents on top of the
pile. The cat made an appearance from the back of the store, and
hugged the wall as it came over to the pile of food that I was
creating and began tentatively eating the bits that were scattered
here and there. I nodded to the animal “but that little bastard
saved my life twice yesterday so I owe him... or her”. I stood up
and saw her smiling at me. “What?” I asked her again this time I
was being defensive.
She shrugged non-committed and sighed, “nice to see someone with a sense of obligation these days.” There was a look in her eyes that I hadn't seen in a long time. Attraction. I smiled back and was about to reply when her son's voice called out to her (not to us) from the front. “Mom, dead people.” The smiles vanished from both our faces and we moved to where our packs were and picked them up. The boy did an admirable job of watching the outside and keeping an eye on his mom as she made a single sign to her son. He pointed to something out in the distance beyond our sight-line and began backing away from the door and to where his stuff was along the counter. With my pack on my back I hustled on over to the counter and worked my way behind it, stepping over the dead walker and grabbed a few packs of cigarettes and stuffed them down inside a thigh pocket of my BDU's, and got out of the counter and headed to the back door, drawing my gun.
“Time to git” I said and stood by the door waiting for them. The boy had his guilly suit folded and draped over his shoulder and the rifle slung across his back and carried his now stuffed pack in one hand and his pistol in the other. The woman shouldered her pack and had her gun in hand. Cautiously, I opened the back door part of the way and counted to three before opening it wider and stepping outside and pointing my gun behind it. There was nothing waiting behind it. With my free hand I signaled to the two inside and they stepped out taking up positions on either side of me. “Do you have a camp?” I asked the woman.
She lifted her arm to point towards the woods behind the store and her son spoke harshly, “Mom!” and shook his head. She held up her hand and did a neat trick with her fingers that got him to look at me with a resentful warning stare. The boy took off towards the woods where she pointed. “He doesn't want you to come with us.” She explained. I nodded, “well then, I'll leave it up to you. I was actually kinda hoping to hook up with you for a day or so, to uh...” I paused at the grin on her face, “to find out more about what you know of this area and where you're headed. If it's where I'm going then, well...” suddenly I felt uncomfortable and shy and cursed myself for it. Her eyes were getting to me. “I've found that temporary hook-ups can be mutually -- beneficial” and I cursed myself again because I couldn't keep the innuendo out of it.” She seemed to chuckle to herself, “well,” she began almost flirtatiously, “we'll see”. Then without another word followed after her son. I shook my head and muttered to myself, “why the hell did she have to be so cute?” then followed her into the woods.
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