“Did they kill your associate?” He turned and peered out of the window, then craned his neck.
“Not sure. They took him from the surplus store we were in down the street. I need to find them,” I replied. “Do you know anything about who they are?”
The young girl stepped away from his side and retrieved the buck knife from the floor. She brought it back and handed it to him.
“Thanks, sweetie.” He held it for a few seconds, looked at me, then stowed it behind his back. “Just that they’re some sort of militant group patrolling the nearby towns. At least, that’s what some folks in town we’ve come across have said. They seemed rather scared of them from the way they trembled when I mentioned them. After being here for a few days and seeing what they’ve done, I can see why.”
“I take it you’re not from around here, then?” I asked.
“No. We were passing through a few days ago heading west when our car died and all this mess outside started happening. We witnessed that group shooting a few people, then patrolling the streets shortly after that. Haven’t seen any police presence, really. Not sure where they are or if they decided to go home to their families. Wouldn’t blame them if they did. What’s happening outside is like judgement day. Wrath of God type of stuff,” he answered.
I nodded. “So you wouldn’t know where they would’ve taken him then, huh?”
He shrugged. “Sorry. Afraid not. We’re staying low and out of sight until things blow over, whenever that may be. Not sure I want to be stranded out in the middle of nowhere in this mess with my daughter. This sort of thing brings the creeps and lowlife’s out for sure.”
“Yeah. It does,” I replied, noticing him staring at me while keeping his daughter close to him. “Like I said earlier, I’m not going to hurt you or your daughter as long as you don’t try to stick me with that buck knife. Besides, if I wanted you dead, or had other intentions here, you wouldn’t be breathing right now, and I damn sure wouldn’t be talking you up like I am, so you can relax.”
He gulped and stayed glued to his daughter’s side. She looked at me, tapped his shoulder, then whispered in his ear.
“Does she not talk out loud or something?” I asked, puzzled.
“Yeah. Hold on for one minute, okay?” he said to her. He looked my way. “She hasn’t for a number of years. Not since her mother died. She talks to me at times, but no one else.”
I looked at her, thinking of my little girl. The way the girl stared made me miss my baby that much more. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
She whispered in her dad’s ear again, pointed at him, herself, then me.
He nodded, then rolled his eyes where she couldn’t see. “I’m Jake. This is Abby. She likes for people to know our names. Feels it’s more personable. She’s a bit too trusting and likes to help people in need, or that she feels that needs help. I’m not as inclined to be that way.”
I pointed at the sidewalk. “Is that why she was outside earlier?”
“Yeah. I told her to stay put and keep away from the window, but she didn’t listen, obviously,” Jake answered.
I looked at Abby, then bowed. “I do appreciate your help.”
Abby whispered to her dad again.
“She wants to know your name,” Jake said.
“Haze.”
“Interesting name you have there,” Jake replied. Abby tapped his shoulder, then pointed past me. “Yes. That’s fine.”
Abby left his side and walked past me, disappearing into the low light of the grocery store.
Jake peered out of the window, checked the door, then moved away from the glass. The handle of the buck knife poked out from the top of the sheath attached to his waistband. His coat wedged between the blade and his body, keeping it visible. He grabbed the bottom portion of his coat, then pulled it over the knife.
“How’s it looking out there?” I asked, glancing to the street.
“Fine for now,” Jake turned to face me, “but they come through town at different times. Pop up out of nowhere. When I see or hear a car, I just assume the worst and lay low. Better to be safe than sorry. You never know what someone will try and do.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t have the luxury of sitting on my hands and waiting for things to blow over,” I replied with my hands on my hip. “I’ve got to find my partner, however I can, and we have to get back on the move.”
Abby walked toward me with a bottle of water in one hand and something else I couldn’t make out in her other balled fist.
“What happened to your car?” Jake asked, glancing at his daughter.
“My associate has the keys and my knowledge of hot-wiring a car is null,” I answered.
Abby handed the water bottle to me.
I looked at the bottle, then her. The scarf had been pulled down to around her neck, revealing more of her young face.
“Thanks.” I popped the cap off the top and took a hearty swig of the chilled water.
“Yeah. I’m not sure where else you could find a car on short notice that would have the keys just laying inside of it,” Jake said. He looked in the direction of the road. “There aren’t many cars out there and the ones close by, I’ve already checked. No dice.”
Abby opened her fist, showing me the pack of gum she had in her hand. I looked the pink wrapper over, then back up to her. She pulled a piece of the strawberry flavored gum from the package, then offered it to me.
“She loves that stuff. Always has,” Jake said, pointing at her hand. “I’m not a fan of strawberry flavored gum, or any other for that matter. You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”
“No. It’s all right.” I took the piece of gum from her hand, unwrapped it, then popped it into my mouth. “Is there any more of this strawberry bubblegum in here by chance?”
Abby nodded, turned, and walked away, heading for one of the racks near the registers.
“Can’t say I’ve ever seen a grown man enjoy that flavor of gum before,” Jake said, looking at me with a raised brow.
“It was my daughter’s favorite gum,” I replied, thinking of her sweet face and bright smile. “She always offered me a piece and I couldn’t say no to that.”
Abby came back with two more packages of the strawberry gum stuffed in her hands and offered them to me.
I took the packages from her palm, gave a warm smile, then stowed them in the pockets of my trousers. “Thank you. I appreciate—”
A ruckus sounded from the back of the store, like metal being bent. Jake looked to the darkness, face stern and focused. His body tensed, his neck craned as he skimmed over the area.
Abby turned away from me, glanced at the murk, then retreated back to her father’s side. He grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him.
I looked down the open aisle toward the back of the store, then over to Jake. “You two are the only ones in here, right?”
He reached around his back, and retrieved the buck knife. “We were.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
SCARFACE
The crunching of metal grew louder. My nerves tightened with each sound coming from the rear of the store. I grabbed the push dagger and slipped it between my fingers.
“What’s back there?” I asked, glancing at Jake.
“The receiving area for the store.” He pointed with the blade. “It’s a small stock room with an office and restroom. We’ve heard some banging on the door here and there, but this is the first time that anyone’s tried to force their way in.”
“I’ll go check it out. You two stay here and watch the front.” I nodded at the front entrance of the store.
Jake kept a tight hold on Abby’s coat. He pulled her out from behind him, then pointed at the register near them. “Get over there, sweetie, and stay low.”
Abby moved to the shadows that lurked between the two check-out lanes and hunched down.
Jake dug his hand into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a small-black flashlight. “Here. You’ll need this. It’s pretty dark bac
k there.”
I dismissed the offer, pulled the Maglite from my coat pocket, then thumbed the button on the bottom of the casing. A bright, white light shone from the lens. I trained it down the open space in the direction of the receiving area.
“Stay quiet. No noise. I’ll be right back.”
Jake nodded, then moved toward the entrance of the store. He stood, shoulder resting against the side of the door as he looked to the street.
Abby shot me a quick look from the depths of the check-out lane. A portion of her face hid within the shadows. She appeared to be calm and collected. No visible tremble of fear resided on what little I could see of her young face.
I tilted my head at her. “It’s going to be all right. Just wait there.”
The noise grew louder. I advanced toward the stock room, moving fast but staying vigilant. I closed in on the black swinging doors, sweeping the nearby aisles and shelves stocked with an assortment of canned and bagged food.
I toed the outer edge of the stock room, leaned in close, and trained my ear to the narrow opening between the doors. My fingers squeezed the dagger tighter as I listened to the banging and contorting of metal.
My shoulder nudged the door open. I slipped inside the dark room. The light washed over the steel shelves, various canned goods, and other non-perishable items scattered across them.
An office came into view on the far wall, the door wide open. The office window facing me had its blinds down. I craned my neck and trained the light at the empty office chair that rested against the white-concrete wall.
A dense thud echoed through the enclosed space. I turned away from the office, then shone the light at the exit door along the back wall. The door shuddered.
I slipped past the few pallets of product and cases of water, moving fast toward the exit. The small roll-up door to the side of the gray-steel exit lifted off the concrete an inch or so, then dropped back down. I stood to the side of the exit, wedged between the jamb and fire extinguisher that hung on the wall.
The door moved, then popped open. Hinges squeaked. I thumbed the switch to the flashlight, turning it off, and waited to strike.
A dull gleam shone from outside. I pulled my feet back into the darkness, away from the opening, then pocketed the flashlight. The dagger sat ready in my hand.
The door flung open. A beam of light shone from outside to the floor of the stock room. I couldn’t gauge the strength of their numbers from where I stood.
A set of boots toed the entrance. I caught the faint glimpse of what looked like a crowbar flash in front of the opening, then vanish. The light scanned over the receiving area from side to side.
I waited for the threat to present itself. The curved head of the black crowbar breached the opening, followed by the man wielding the steel piece.
As he stepped inside the building, I grabbed his arm wielding the crowbar, and jerked him around. He flinched, then looked my way. The dual-filter painter’s mask he wore had been painted red. Goggles covered his eyes. A black beanie shielded his head and ears.
I jabbed him in the side of the neck twice with the United Cutlery Push Dagger. The tip ripped through his flesh with ease. A muffled groan seeped from the mask. His legs gave. He crumbled to the stock room floor.
I caught a flash of black moving around the door and through the ash, heading for the opening. I turned, took a step back, and brought my arms up in front of me.
A taller, thicker masked man, wearing much the same head gear as the dead soul on the floor, rushed the entrance with a switchblade clutched in his gloved hand. He breached the building and lunged at me, swinging the blade at my midsection.
I took a step back, avoiding the lethal blow. A throbbing pain lanced through my hip from the sudden movement, causing me to stop and lose my balance. He attacked again, slashing at my chest.
The blade sliced through a portion of my coat and up past my shoulder. I jabbed him in the sternum, then followed with a right cross that landed on the side of his face. My knuckles hit the filter, bones aching from the impact.
The glancing blow stunned him. His hand palmed the center of his chest. He stumbled back.
I jabbed him again in the side with the dagger, then moved. He swung his arm in ponderous slow motion, missing me by a mile. He bent over, struggling to keep upright. I struck the side of his neck like a cobra, then shoved him to the floor.
The switchblade fell from his hand and hit the concrete. He landed on his side and palmed his neck. His body twitched for a moment, then stopped.
My chest heaved. The discomfort in my hip lessened, allowing me to stand and walk without limping too much.
I dipped my chin and looked at both of the dead men sprawled out on the stock room floor. Neither had the familiar markings of the militant group. No skulls painted on tactical ballistic vests or heavy weapons laced across their bodies. From the looks of the two men, they appeared to be common thugs.
I looked to the opened door and peered outside to the falling ash. I stepped over the corpse and made for the exit. The wind howled, blowing some of the ash inside the stock room.
I leaned through the doorway and skimmed over the alley that ran behind the buildings for any further threats or movement, but spotted none. I grabbed the edge of the door and closed it.
The latch on the steel door wouldn’t catch because of the damage done by the crowbar. I pulled it tight against the jamb.
A thin bead of light shone through the narrow opening left behind. I ran my hand over my face, then turned away from the door, leaving it be.
The dagger remained clutched in my hand. I turned my attention to the two dead thugs, pulled the Maglite from my pocket, and checked their bodies for anything of use. I rifled through the pockets of their coats and denim jeans, hoping that I might come across some keys. Two muffled shots sounded from the sales floor of the store. I flinched. My muscles tightened.
Jake yelled, but I couldn’t make out what he said. I stood, staring at the double-swinging doors across the stock room.
The flashlight trained at the entrance. I left the dead bodies and navigated my way toward the sales floor. Another gunshot echoed inside the building, louder and more defined.
The sound of glass breaking loomed in the air. My heart hammered. The surge of adrenaline wouldn’t let up, lancing through my body.
I stood next to one of the swinging doors and diverted the light away from the opening. I pushed it open a hair, then peered out to the storefront.
The glass door at the main entrance sat in ruins. Shards of busted glass littered the floor. The jagged fragments that remained lined the outer rim.
Where’s Jake and Abby?
A loud crashing noise filled my ears. Grunts and heavy footfalls sounded close by, growing louder, bolder.
A black-clad figure materialized from one of the aisles near the entrance. He hit the floor hard on his side, sliding along the linoleum tile floor. He slammed into one of the shelves near the entrance.
A beam of light trained at his face from the aisle he’d come from. He sat up from the tile floor and lifted his arm, shielding his eyes. It was Jake.
“Abby,” he said, calling out to her. His hand reached down to his side, pulled a pistol from his hip, and pointed it at the aisle. “Leave my daughter alone, you assholes.”
A shadowy figure emerged from the depths of the aisle in front of him with a rifle shouldered. Jake hesitated for a moment and didn’t fire. He looked away with, his hand blocking the bright, white light that blasted him.
Footfalls sounded from close by. I caught another flash of light from the side of the store near my position. I thumbed the button on the Maglite, placed it into the pocket of my coat, then looked to the armed man towering over Jake.
He ripped the pistol from Jake’s hand, tossed it aside, then trained the rifle at his head. I pushed the door open a bit more, slipped around the edge, and vanished into the darkness of the aisle that ran along the cinder block wall.
I s
tayed low and moved fast. Multiple footfalls hammered the floor a few aisles over from me. I neared the end of the shelving unit and toed the edge.
My back sat flush against the steel. I turned and looked down the long stretch of aisle that led toward the front of the store. A beam of light washed over the shelves that ran the length of the wall two aisles over.
Abby bolted from the aisle in a dead sprint, stopped, then skirted the corner of the endcap. Her feet slipped out from under her, and she hit the floor, falling on her backside.
The light grew brighter from the aisle. One of the militant gunmen flanked her with his rifle shouldered. He closed in and reached for the hood of her coat. She scrambled to her feet.
His hand ripped the beanie from Abby’s head as she slipped away. Her long hair whipped about as she turned and glanced at the armed man.
He followed, reaching for her coat or anything else he could take hold of. She tumbled into the shelves on the next aisle over, knocking items to the floor.
The foot soldier lowered his rifle and darted in after her. I slipped around the corner of the endcap and followed them. He pinned her to the floor, prone on her stomach with her face pressed to the tile. His foot rested in the middle of her back. The rifle and light trained at her thrashing body as she tried to get out from under his bulk.
“Abby,” Jake said through strained breath. “Don’t hurt her or I swear I’ll—”
The gunman removed his boot from the small of her back and lowered his rifle, allowing it to hang from his shoulder. The gun-mounted light trained at her legs. He bent down, grabbed her coat, wrenched her from the floor, and turned her around.
Abby punched his chest and kicked his shins. The much taller brute struck her across the side of her face with the back of his hand, knocking her to the floor once more.
A yelp fled her mouth. She hit with a thud and groaned.
My lips pursed, nostrils flared. I advanced, stalking the gunman from behind. My fingers closed tighter around the handle of the dagger.
Brink of Extinction | Book 2 | Stay Alive Page 16
