“All right. I’m going to lock the doors to the truck. That guy with the red gas can was eyeing us hard,” Clyde said, opening his door. “I don’t want anyone trying to steal my truck.”
“Yeah. We need to keep an eye out on anyone around the area.” Russell grabbed the black handle on the door, and gave it a tug. The door popped open. He pushed it out, and climbed down to the pavement.
The Ruger stayed fixed in his hand, the barrel trained at the ground. He shut the door, peered through the gap between the pumps, then marched toward the bed of the truck.
Clyde walked around the front of the Silverado, and checked each pump. He pressed buttons, and removed the nozzle from the housing.
Russell moved past the bed of the truck, heading toward the passenger side of the Suburban. Amber turned and peered to the back seat where Cathy sat. He knocked on the front-passenger-side window. Amber looked his way.
Max barked from the far back of the SUV. His groans and whines filled the cab.
Amber lowered the window.
Russell looked to the back-passenger window for Cathy, but didn’t spot her through the tinted glass. “Is everyone holding up all right?”
Amber diverted her gaze from Russell to the back seat. “Mom isn’t doing too good. That gunshot wound on her leg needs to be properly looked at, despite her saying it’s fine.”
“Can you unlock the door?” Russell asked, pointing at the back seat. “I’d like to check on her.”
A subtle click sounded from inside the cab. Russell moved away from the passenger-side window to the back seat. He opened the door, and found Cathy lying in the seat with her head pointed his way.
Cathy didn’t stir. Both arms were laced across her chest. The strands of her blonde hair flowed over the side of the bench seat, dangling toward the floor. A portion concealed her flushed, sweaty face, offering him nothing more than snapshots of her condition.
Russell leaned toward the back of the front passenger seat, then moved some of the stray hairs away from her face. He examined her, noticing the tackiness of her skin and the lack of color. Her lips were dry as well. His gaze moved to the wound on her thigh.
Max rested his front paws over the back of the seat, and sniffed at Russell’s head. The tip of his tongue flicked out, trying to lick the side of Russell’s cheek. The anxious canine groaned, stretching to reach him.
“Yeah. I know, bud.” Russell scratched the crown of the German shepherd’s head while looking Cathy over. He placed his fingers softly on the side of her thigh and examined the bandage.
Cathy shifted her weight in the seat, then groaned. Both lids closed tighter as she unfolded her arms, and glanced at the roof of the Suburban.
“How are you feeling, Mom?” Amber asked, rubbing her lower leg with her hand.
“Like death warmed over, but other than that, I’m good.” Cathy licked her dry lips. Her face contorted in discomfort as she shifted her bulk again in the seat.
Russell glanced at Amber who met his gaze. Both of them stared at the other for a moment. He knew what she was thinking. Cathy needed proper help, more than they could provide. “We’ve stopped at an Exxon gas station to get some fuel. I’ll go inside, and see if I can rustle up some bottles of water and anything else they may have.”
Cathy lifted her arm and gave a thumbs up.
Max stared out of the open door. He tried to climb over the seat and onto Cathy.
“Max, stay,” Amber said in a stern, commanding voice while pointing at the anxious canine.
The German shepherd whined, then paced the cargo hold of the SUV.
Russell nodded at Amber, then motioned to the rear of the Suburban. “I’ll let him out and take him with me, so he can stretch his legs and do his business.”
Amber opened the driver’s-side door and climbed down to the pavement.
Russell closed the back door softly, allowing Cathy to rest. He walked to the rear of the SUV, then skirted around the bumper where Amber met him.
Max pawed at the glass, ready to be free of the confining space. He barked and paced back and forth. Amber pulled on the handle of the wide door and lifted it up. Max toed the edge of the cargo hold, waiting for her to give him the go ahead to jump down.
“Come on, boy,” Amber said, petting his head, then moving out of his way.
The German shepherd licked the tips of her fingers, then jumped to the concrete. His nose trained to the ground as he sniffed and walked about.
“We’ll for sure need to get her to a hospital soon,” Russell said in whisper. “Not only for her gunshot wound, but she looks a bit dehydrated, and I know she hasn’t eaten much.”
Amber watched Max investigate around the pumps. “I agree. Her stubbornness gets on my nerves at times. She’s rather hard-headed if you can’t tell.”
“Oh, I have come to find that out,” Russell replied. Footfalls sounded from the passenger side of the SUV. He leaned back, spotting Clyde heading toward them. “Any luck?”
Clyde shook his head in disappointment. “None of the pumps are working. We can go inside, and see what we might be able to do from there. Worst case, we’ll have to check the cars out around the building.”
“Will that be safe?” Amber asked. Her inner eyebrows went upwards, and her lips puckered. “They probably won’t like us trying to steal their fuel considering the gas stations appear to be offline.”
Russell looked at her, then placed his hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be all right. It’s something we’ll need to do. Hopefully, one of these cars is just abandoned, and we won’t have to mess with anyone about it.”
Amber looked at Russell, then to Clyde. “Just be careful, whatever you do.”
Max ran toward the trio at full tilt, then stopped between Amber and Russell. He nudged the palm of her hand with his nose, indicating he wanted to be petted. She kneaded the top of his head for a moment. He groaned in response.
“Why don’t you get back in the SUV while we check things out,” Russell said. “Lock the doors and give the horn a honk if there’s any trouble. We won’t be too long and will get this done as quick as we can.”
Amber nodded, then tapped the rubber insert in the cargo hold. “Sounds good. Be good, Max.”
The canine looked at Amber, then to Russell while sitting on his haunches. He licked around his maw and shifted his weight.
“He’ll be fine. We’ve grown to have a good relationship over the past few days.” Russell said, pointing at the German shepherd. “Nothing to worry about.”
Amber dipped her chin and eyed the canine. “Yeah. He is a good boy. I’ve missed him.”
Max groaned in response, then stood up.
Amber closed the rear hatch, then made her way back to the driver’s side of the Suburban.
Clyde scratched at the stubble on his chin, then faced the Silverado. “I’m going to grab the gas can and hose from the bed of the truck. I’ll meet you inside shortly.”
“All right. Come on, Max.” Russell patted the side of his leg, then walked through the opening between the two pumps.
Max followed on his heels as the both of them trekked across the open parking lot.
Russell stowed the Ruger in the waistband of his jeans behind his back, then pulled his shirt over the weapon. The wiry man with the gas can had vanished from sight. Russell studied the cars parked on the side of the station, finding them empty of any people.
The vehicles parked out front had occupants inside each, staring at the dark, powerless interior of the building. The windows of each sedan had been rolled down. Chatter seeped from the vehicles as Russell and Max made their way around them toward the front doors.
“If you’re looking to find a way to get the pumps online, I wouldn’t waste your time,” a young kid who looked to be in his early twenties said from the tan, four-door car. He ran his fingers through his ash blond hair, then pointed at his buddy in the passenger seat who lit a cigarette. “We messed around behind the counter and tried to find the panel to f
lip some breakers to see if that would help. It didn’t do any good.”
Russell glanced at the young, muscular kid, then looked at the entrance of the station. Max milled about the walkway, staring through the windows.
“Is anyone working inside?” Russell asked.
Ash Blond shrugged. “Not that we could tell. It’s been picked over inside, and the few people we came across in there didn’t say much to us.”
The car on the other side of Russell started, then backed away from the yellow bollards lining the front of the building. The woman inside the red vehicle glanced at Russell for a second, then drove off in the direction of the access road leading to the highway.
Russell nodded to Ash Blond. “Thanks. Is there anyone in there right now?”
“Yeah. An older gray-haired guy. Kind of grumpy and mumbling to himself. We left him be and didn’t say much to him. He seemed to be a bit unhinged. I’d watch him,” Ash Blond answered, pointing out of the windshield.
“Thanks. Appreciate it.” Russell tilted his head.
Ash Blond started his car. “No problem. Good luck.”
Clyde walked around the back of the tan sedan, and stood at Russell’s side as it backed away.
“What was that all about?” he asked, looking at the two men inside the car as they stopped in the parking lot, shifted into drive, then drove away.
“Nothing, really. Just telling me that they tried to get the pumps back online but couldn’t,” Russell replied. “There’s a guy inside the store they warned me about. Could be trouble or could be nothing.”
Clyde glanced at Max who stood at the double-glass doors at the entrance, then said, “I guess we’ll find out. I didn’t spot anyone inside those two cars on the side. We should be all right to tap one or both, as long it doesn’t belong to the guy inside here.”
Russell turned and headed to the entrance. Max wagged his tail faster, then faced the crease between the two steel doors. Russell grabbed the black handle and pulled.
The door opened.
Max pushed his way through and sniffed the floor.
Russell trailed the German shepherd with Clyde flanking him.
A strong, rotting smell tainted the stagnant air.
Clyde sighed, mumbled under his breath, then pinched his nose. “Christ. Smells like garbage in here. I wonder if they didn’t empty out any fresh food they had before bailing.”
Russell’s nose scrunched from the unwanted stench. “Smells like that’s the case.”
Max milled about the aisle in front of them, sniffing the floor. He peered toward the ceiling and tested the air.
“I’ll check behind the counter to see if anything can be done about the fuel pumps,” Clyde said, shaking his head. “I’m not wanting to hang around in here for too long.”
“I’m going to grab some water and see what else I can find for Cathy,” Russell replied, scanning the periphery of the darkened store. “We need to get back on the road as fast as we can.”
“That’s the plan.” Clyde walked around Russell, and made his way to the open space within the long counter that ran the length of the store from front to back.
Russell noticed a man rummaging through the coolers on the far side of the store. The gray-haired man stopped, and stood in front of the glass windows of the coolers lining the wall. He flung the door open, and looked over the bottles of beer and other assorted alcoholic beverages that remained.
“Max. Come here.” Russell snapped his fingers while watching the homely looking gentleman browse what sparse items remained.
The man paid them no mind, keeping his attention trained on the shelves as he spoke aloud to himself. His words were garbled, and hard to discern from where Russell stood. It didn’t matter much to Russell what the disgruntled gentleman rambled on about as long as he kept to himself and didn’t try to mess with them.
“Good lord.” Clyde walked behind the counter near the covered plastic case where the top-notch gas station food sat under the non-functioning heat lamps. “I think I found the source of the bad smell. Left over garbage rotting in the trash can here.”
“Try to contain yourself and not eat anything over there, all right?” Russell smirked.
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,” Clyde said from behind the cash register.
“Damn it to hell.” The older gentleman across the store turned away from the open door, and threw something at the tile floor.
Glass shattered.
Russell flinched, then reached for the Ruger tucked in the waistband of his jeans behind his back.
Max paused, lifted his front right paw, and growled.
“What the hell was that?” Clyde asked.
“Just keep looking,” Russell replied, focused on the man across the store.
The gray-haired man peered over his shoulder at Russell, offered a scowl, and huffed before diverting his attention back to the bottles.
Russell couldn’t tell what bothered him so bad, though he assumed the lack of liquor options might have a hand in his agitated state. Russell understood his cause for reacting in such a way for when the body craves the drink and you’re struggling to feed the beast, it can grow disgruntled.
A light flickered into existence from behind the counter where Clyde searched. The white beam caught the corner of Russell’s eye, then went away.
“You know, you’re wasting your time behind that counter, right?” the gray-haired man said while sifting through the glass case. “I’ve already messed with everything back there, and so has a number of other folks. Not sure if you noticed or not, but the power’s out, and they don’t seem to have a generator to keep the pumps running. That, or it’s not working. I even checked the breaker box in the storage room. No dice there, either.”
Russell and Max walked the length of the floor two aisles over from the man, heading toward the glass case. He spotted bottles of water stored in the sectioned off slanted shelves.
“Thanks.” Russell opened the cooler door, and removed a few bottles from the shelves. “You wouldn’t happen to know if either of those cars parked on the far side of the building belong to anyone still here, would you?”
The gray-haired man mumbled under his breath, then bent down to the lower shelves, ignoring Russell’s question. The sound of glass clanging echoed through the store.
Damn old drunk.
Russell shook his head, turned away from the open door, and pondered if that’s how he’d acted when he needed a fix. He couldn’t recall it being that bad, but he assumed he probably had. “Come on, Max. Let’s see what else we can find in here.”
The German shepherd stared at the mumbling man a moment longer, then trotted away at Russell’s side.
Clyde moved out from behind the counter, training his light at Russell. “The system’s dead. Nothing’s responding. Do you want to check the back room?”
Russell shook his head. “Don’t see any point. We’ll just be wasting more time it seems. Let’s go check those cars on the side of the building. Tap their tanks for any fuel.”
“Agreed. I don’t think we’re going to have any luck in here with the gas pumps or much of anything else it seems,” Clyde replied, shining his light over the periphery of the store. “I’ll go check them out. You can keep looking in here.”
“I got it.” Russell reached for the gas can and hose. “Take the water, and see if you can find any aspirin for Cathy. If you happen to spot any food, take that to her as well. I didn’t spot any, but could’ve overlooked it.”
“You sure? I can get it. It’s no problem,” Clyde said.
Russell peered back to the older gentleman suckling on the end of the bottle, wanting to get far away from the temptation of the liquor. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
Clyde shrugged. “All right.”
They switched the items in their hands, and Russell headed for the entrance with Max trailing behind him.
The gray-haired man burped loudly, shook his head, then pointed Russell’s w
ay. “Leave the dark blue Honda Accord alone. That’s my ride. The other you can mess with.”
Russell glanced at Clyde who stared at him with a confused look, then shrugged.
The older gentleman licked his lips and continued to drink from the long neck of the bottle. He stumbled about, shifting from foot to foot as he leaned against the edge of the glass door of the cooler.
Max pawed at the glass, then groaned.
Russell grabbed the steel handle and opened the door.
The canine brushed past his leg and trotted out onto the sidewalk, sniffing. Russell followed him outside.
The duo marched toward the end of the building. Russell looked at the Silverado and Suburban for any signs of trouble, but didn’t notice any problems around the vehicles.
The gray-haired man turned in a half circle, facing the large windows of the store. He cut his eyes at Russell from the side of the bottle as they vanished past the stone exterior of the outside wall.
The dark-blue Honda sat parked in the nearest parking space. Russell skimmed over the dented bumper and scuffed paint of the sedan’s front end as he continued on to the other vehicle. The car looked as though it had seen a few accidents in its time.
Russell studied the driver’s side of the other car for the gas tank covering. The square panel stuck out from the vehicle a hair. He peered inside the car, finding no one sitting within the light-gray seats.
Max milled about the vehicles, sniffing around the tires of both cars. His curved-brown tail wagged, then grew taut as he investigated something on the ground for a moment before he continued on.
Russell set the gas can down, and took the covering off the gas tank. He opened the square door, and removed the yellow gas cap screwed into place.
Please have plenty of fuel, he thought while feeding one end of the hose into the depths of the tank.
The sides of the hose scrapped over the steel, plunging into the reservoir of the car. Russell bent down, placed the end of the hose in his mouth, and sucked on the end.
A splash of fuel filled his mouth in a blink. Russell yanked the hose from between his lips and spit the pungent liquid to the ground. The gas splattered against his pants and the ground as he fed the hose into the gas can.
Survive The Fall | Book 5 | Fight Back Page 6
