The Zombie Plagues (Book 4)

by Sweet, Dell

  “Yeah,” Mike agreed, impressed. “I was trying to remember which way to go.” All three of the others were nodding in understanding.

  “Patty, did you and Ronnie come here? I think we want to go to the left. I think the next aisle is paper goods, utensils stuff like that.” Candace said.

  “A few times,” Ronnie elaborated.

  “All the time,” Patty added. “He doesn’t like to shop if I remember correctly.”

  Ronnie laughed. “Pizza delivery for Two C,” he said and laughed. Then, “yeah, it was easier to get something on the way home, have a pizza delivered. I think my refrigerator had two or three boxes with leftover pizza, and a couple of six packs… maybe an old jar of Mayo.” He looked apologetic.

  “Stuff’ll kill you,” Mike said.

  “Yeah. Yeah, but it tastes good,” Ronnie laughed.

  Patty rolled her eyes. “Yeah… Paper stuff… Toilet tissue. Some medications, gadgets, you know, like little can openers, oven timers.”

  They all looked at each other.

  “Good a place as any to start,” Ronnie said. They all nodded and started to work clearing the debris from the front of the aisle, piling it outside the shattered front windows.

  Everyone wore heavy gloves to protect themselves from all the broken glass and brick, so the work went quickly. They had pulled the trucks as close to the front of the building as they could, so once they reached the aisle it was easy to retrieve and load what they chose to keep right into the trucks.

  Moving the debris that blocked the aisles went much faster with three extra pairs of hands. In no time at all they had progressed down the aisles and were nearing the back wall of the supermarket.

  “The end,” Patty said, thinking out loud, “Breads, Cakes, fresh produce…”

  “I think so,” Candace agreed.

  The closer they got to the back of the store the stronger the odor of corruption became.

  “Bad,” Patty said.

  “Yeah... I think that’s lunch meat… Produce…”

  “The butcher shop is back there also,” Ronnie said.

  “Storage?” Candace asked.

  “Probably where Lilly got the corn. She probably used the back door though,” Mike said.

  They had already come across two bodies as they had dug their way through the aisles. Rather than leave them there as Mike had done, they had dragged them out of the market and covered them with a tarp at the front of the store. Despite that, the store didn’t smell any better than it had. Rats, mice, and bugs had infested the market.

  “Both the Suburbans are packed. The pickup nearly is,” Ronnie said.

  “Yeah,” Mike said. “I’m thinking, what else is there here that we could need?”

  “Duh,” Patty said and smacked her forehead with an open palm. “Hang on. Follow me,” she turned and walked down to the destroyed front window area and stepped out into the bright sunlight. The others followed, stopping to blink their eyes rapidly in the overly bright sunlight. Slowly adjusting after so long inside the dark interior.

  Patty made her way along the front of the store, in the same direction they had been walking inside. Just about twenty feet from the end of the store a single steel door rested.

  “The back door,” Patty said. “It used to be a drug store, but when it was closed the supermarket snapped up the lease on that space. They took out the front windows and bricked it all up, put in this steel door unit. We can get into the back storage area from here. That’s what they used it for, more storage. I remember reading about it in the paper. One of those days when I was so bored I read every story in the paper.” She laughed. “You know, in a small town, everything’s a big story.”

  Ronnie looked over the handle with its inset lock. “This can’t be the way Lilly got in,” he said.

  “No,” Candace agreed. “There’s a whole different warehouse area at the absolute back of the store. Different area.”

  Ronnie nodded. “I don’t know if it wouldn’t still be easier to go through from the inside though.” He looked over the door. “That’s a steel jamb. And that,” He pointed down at the inset lock, “Is probably a deadbolt. It’s going to be tough to get opened easily.”

  Mike left, walked to the Suburban and came back a few seconds later with a massive sledge hammer and a long heavy crow bar. He set the end of the crowbar into the steel jamb at the place where the lock-set was. He tapped it lightly a few times to wedge it into the door. After the easy taps he swung hard twice, driving the heavy bar into the door. The door easily dented inward, the lock-set pieces flying out onto the concrete of the sidewalk as he drove the end of the heavy crowbar home.

  The door itself bent out of the frame with a soft squeal of metal.

  Mike started forward into the small circle of light when the odor from inside the space suddenly leapt out to assault him. At the same time, a distinct sound reached his ears, the sound of dozens of buzzing flies. Mike moved back quicker than he had thought to and nearly tripped over the others as he did.

  Ronnie stepped forward, snagged what was left of the door and pushed it shut. The broken lock mechanism jammed in the steel door unit and held it closed.

  Ronnie’s face was gray. Sweat popped out along his brow. He had seen dozens of bodies inside, just within the small perimeter of light that had come through the open doorway, and what looked to be dozens more just beyond in the shadows.

  “Jesus,” he managed as he quickly made his way past the others, around the side of the building, away from the odor. He almost kept his breakfast down, but as the picture of the devastation inside replayed in his head, he lost the brief struggle. He came back after a few minutes.

  Everyone had walked further down what was left of the sidewalk, away from the door. His face was still pale, but he felt marginally better.

  “All right,” Patty asked as she rested the back of her wrist against his forehead. Her eyes were worried.

  “Better,” Ronnie said. “I just wasn’t prepared for that. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  “Looked like they were stuck in there,” Candace said.

  “Except they could’ve just knocked the lock off like we did.” Mike's eyes met Ronnie’s. They had both been close to the door as it opened and they had both seen the same things. Weapons scattered everywhere. There had been some sort of battle in there.

  “What?” Candace asked. She looked at Ronnie.

  “Looked like a lot of weapons just lying around by the bodies…like maybe a gunfight took place and then the ceiling caved in. But they were dead before that… shot for some reason. Shot each other?” He looked over at Mike.

  “Maybe,” Mike allowed. “Or shot and then whoever did it just shut and locked the door and walked away.” He shrugged helplessly.

  “Well, they must have killed each other,” Patty said.

  “Maybe,” Ronnie said. “But like Mike said…” He shrugged too. “Some weapons looked like they might have been thrown in on top of them… It doesn’t fit.”

  Mike nodded.

  Candace looked from Mike to Ronnie, a look of disbelief on her face. She glanced back down at the door, back at Mike once more, then spun and walked back down to the door.

  “Candace,” Mike called. He started after her, but she reached the door and tugged it open before he reached her. “You don’t,” he started.

  She drew in a short breath; her hands came up and cupped her nose and mouth. Her legs were planted firmly, her posture rigid. “It’s true,” she mumbled through her hands. Mike leaned past her shoulder and took a closer look at the room.

  There were many more bodies than his first quick look had shown him. The weapons were lying on top of the bodies, as though they had been shot and then someone had tossed the weapons into the room, shut the door and walked away. Just as it had seemed to both he and Ronnie in their first short view.

  What hadn’t appeared in their first short view were the other things that were, at first, not readily seen.
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br />   They had, every one, been shot in the head. But that was not the only thing. It was the way some people’s hands weren’t showing. That in itself didn’t actually register for a few seconds until he realized no one's hands were showing. Then his eyes took in the bodies in more detail than his eyes had wanted to provide, and he realized the reason their hands were not showing was because they were behind their backs.

  He saw two people that answered the why of that. Bright glimpses of metal showed between the bloated skin of their wrists. Handcuffed… His mind had supplied tied, but it was not tied, it was handcuffed. And handcuffed was not a mistake. Handcuffed could not shoot back at all. They had been herded in here, for whatever reason, handcuffed and shot… Murdered, his mind supplied.

  “Come on,” he said quietly to Candace. “We don’t need to see any more of this do we?”

  She shook her head, turned back towards him, and then suddenly found herself running around the side of the building the same way that Ronnie had. A few minutes later, she came back out and joined the others. Everyone was silent. The morning had moved on and the afternoon was bright sunshine and warmth on the cracked sidewalk, but none of that warmth seemed able to touch her.

  “Probably never know why,” Ronnie said after a long silence. He spun the cap off a bottle of water, took a deep drink, rinsed his mouth, spat and then drank again. They were all gathered around the trucks.

  Mike stared off down what was left of State Street. The street itself was more dirt and sand than pavement. The buildings that were left tilted crazily. Some looked almost untouched until you got close to them. From here they looked fine, just like from the sidewalk the steel door hadn’t seemed to be hiding anything special, his mind jabbered.

  “There’s another drug store up the street,” he said, just to be talking. “I didn’t check it. I wasn’t thinking about it. It’s an actual drug store… So I was thinking what could there be there that I would need. But drugstores sell all sorts of things. We could go see.”

  “Let’s go see,” Patty said.

  They all piled into the trucks like they had only been looking for an excuse to go. As they drove away, Mike knew he would never come back to the supermarket for anything. Silence held as they maneuvered their way over the shattered pavement and made their way down the street.

  ~ More Trouble ~

  Tom and Bob were loading up the last of the space that was left in one of the pickup trucks when Tim came running in their direction.

  “People,” he gasped, pointing to the side of the building. “People with guns and stuff!”

  Bob and Tom both reached inside the truck and grabbed their rifles. Bob reached out and snagged Tim by the wrist before he could tear off around the side of the building again.

  “Calm down. Take a deep breath,” Bob said in a calming voice. “Where are they?”

  “Coming into the parking lot. They’re on foot,” Tim said. Both Nell and Lilly stepped out of the shattered back door that lead into the department store, their arms loaded down with clothes in various sizes.

  Tom sighed in relief, reached down and unsnapped the strap that held his gun in its holster. Checked the safety on the rifle, flicked it to off and turned to Nell and Lilly. “We have visitors,” he turned to Tim “Did they see you?”

  “I don’t know… I don’t… I don’t think so, but I’m not sure,” he answered, still breathless.

  A frightened look came into Lilly’s eyes. “How many, when? Are they armed?” she asked.

  “Two guys… A couple ladies and some kids… Little kids… And a dog too,” Tim said. Thinking as he went along.

  “Okay,” Tom said. “We’ll all walk out. Have your safeties off. You may really have to shoot. For Christ’s sake don’t shoot yourself… Or me... Or one of us. Point at who you want to hit, and shoot, like Candace showed you. But don’t shoot unless you have to. Maybe these people are okay.” He waited until everyone had nodded.

  Nell and Lilly took the safeties off their guns, held them briefly and then returned them to their holsters. Nell kept touching the curved metal butt of her pistol nervously.

  “Bob, you’re up front with me. You guys in back of us. If you have to shoot, shoot,” he told them again. “Just make sure we’re not in your way… Jesus… I hate this,” Tom finished. He took a deep breath “Everybody ready?” he asked. No one answered except Bob who nodded quickly before his eyes darted back to the corner of the building and the bright sunshine beyond.

  Tom stepped around the edge of the building, his rifle aimed at the ground, his finger resting on the trigger guard.

  ~

  The drug store and a small convenience store took up the space in the small strip mall building. An auto garage occupied the building next door. Both buildings were damaged. They walked around the exterior of the store building and looked it over.

  The large front windows were spider webbed with stress fractures but were still intact. The front door to the convenience store was bent outward at an odd angle, the top of the door actually out of the frame, the bottom still jammed tightly in it. The brick wall that fronted the building was warped but still upright. The frame had apparently twisted as the wall had warped.

  It was difficult to see into the darkened interiors through the spider webbed glass, but both stores appeared to be uninhabited. They chose the convenience store first. A few well placed blows from the sledgehammer and crowbar combination popped the twisted door from the frame. It sprang inward and caught on the floor, screeching to a stop.

  Mike put one booted foot against the warped wall and pushed experimentally. The wall didn’t budge. It didn’t even creak or groan like he expected that a wall about to fall down might do. He looked around at everyone, shrugged and stepped inside, snapping on the big flashlight as he did.

  The interior seemed in remarkably good shape. Some metal shelving units that had served as dividers had toppled their merchandise to the floor, but it was much better than the supermarket had been, or most other places he had wandered into.

  “Looks safe,” He said, and the others stepped inside.

  Case upon case of bottled water, soda and sports drinks found their way into the trucks in the parking lot. Boxes of crackers, candy bars and other snacks went in as well. In a short period, the remaining space in the trucks was filled up.

  “Well,” Mike checked his watch. The sun was not yet overhead. The watch was really no indicator of actual passing daylight, only elapsed time. Looking into the sky and judging the position of the sun was probably a better indicator of relative daylight left than looking at a watch was. “Probably better than half again as much daylight left.”

  “You sound so sure of yourself,” Candace teased.

  Mike smiled. “We could go unload this and probably come back for another load.” Everyone agreed. Mike and Ronnie muscled the door back into its frame away from where it had wedged into the floor. Then they started the vehicles and drove slowly down lower State Street towards the Old River Road and the cave.

  ~ Death And Sin ~

  Tom took the corner wide, allowing Bob to emerge at nearly the same time as he did. The others were right behind them, spread out slightly. He spotted the small group immediately: Two men; three women, and two small kids walking warily across the cracked parking lot towards the store they were in. All five adults were heavily armed.

  The dark skinned young man in the lead wore military fatigues and carried what looked to Tom to be a military issue rifle of some sort he was not familiar with. The next man back was dressed in jeans and a lightweight jacket, but he also seemed to be carrying a military weapon. Both men had their weapons in their hands like they were on patrol, Tom thought.

  The women came next, the first one carrying a lightweight pistol, small, possibly a three eighty, Tom thought. The other two women carried the same sort of small light duty pistols, Tom saw. He tried to get a better view of the pistols. They could be Nine Millimeters, he told himself. It was hard to tell, an
d he was no judge of weapons like Candace was. It was about then that the dark skinned man stopped. His eyes were fixed on Tom. Tom took a deep breath and waited.

  The two men swiveled their rifles around quickly pointing them at Tom and Bob. Tom and Bob already had their weapons up. Suddenly there was a standoff. Silence descended and held. Tom could hear every little noise clearly: sand and small pebbles gritting beneath his boot as he shifted position, birds calling from the tops of nearby buildings and the occasional tree, even the far off sound of the river which was still running higher than normal.

  The young man in the lead wore reflective sunglasses; the sun shot darts of light off the lenses hiding his eyes.

  “We aren’t looking for a fight,” a tall, light haired woman in back of the two men said. She stepped out away from the other two women and the children when she finished speaking. The lead man said nothing; only stood allowing the light to arrow from his glasses, reflecting the strong afternoon light.

  “We aren’t either,” Bob said. He kept his rifle barrel pointed in their direction, his finger still resting on the edge of the trigger guard, his voice strong and steady.

  The time played out for a few seconds, both sides waiting for the other side to lower their weapons first. Finally, the young woman stepped forward, past the two men, holstered her own weapon, and then turned to face the young man in the military fatigues.

  “We aren’t looking for any trouble,” she said.

  It seemed unclear to Bob who she was talking to, them or the guy with the reflective glasses.

  “They aren’t either,” she continued, and it became clear she was talking to the young man and not them.

  Bob’s finger slid a little closer to the trigger. He waited.

  The man tilted his head toward the woman who stood before him. It was impossible to see what his eyes were saying. He didn’t speak aloud, and for all Bob knew he may not actually have even been looking at the woman at all. He may have never taken his eyes off them, only tilted his head to make them think he had.

  The face moved slightly again, as if he was looking back toward Tom and the others: Moved again as though he were looking back at the woman once more.