“Jack’s going to be pissed about all the blood.” Ryan said.
Lynn chuckled, but it was broken as a wave of sharp pain shot through her.
“Marty! Marty!” Glass shattered. Lynn jumped.
“Stay here” Ryan said.
She leaned against the wall nodding. The pain was terrible in her side. Her lips and cheek ached, but more than anything, she wanted to retrieve Lily. Right now, her daughter would be watching one of her favorite movies in the soundproof room. She was safe, safe as long as they lived to retrieve her from the room.
Lynn peeked around the corner to check on Ryan. He stood over a dead man holding a bloody knife. A stream of red trickled down the blade and rolled downward onto the man’s face. Ryan looked at her, but his face had paled almost white. Lynn scrambled towards him at the same moment another trespasser appeared in the hallway with his gun aimed at Ryan.
“Shoot him,” Ryan whispered.
Lynn felt a sudden sense of control. Fluid and determined, she swung her pistol up and pressed the trigger. With his focus on Ryan not Lynn, the bullet caught the man in the chest. Strands of material from his shirt exploded outward. He staggered back, glanced at Ryan and then moved toward her.
The second bullet hit milliseconds later catching the intruder inches from the first bullet. His body jolted backwards. The muscles in his gun hand contracted sending stray rounds into the air. Somehow, Lynn pulled Ryan to the side. A stray bullet sliced into the doorframe splintering the wood into toothpicks. When Ryan hit the floor, he was out cold.
“Ryan!” Ryan!”
Lynn rolled him over. His eyelids flickered. He moaned as she tore away his shirt. There was a bullet wound on the left side of his chest. She pressed her fingers over the wound and whispered “No.”
She scrambled, fell and painstakingly climbed to her feet. She rushed toward the guest bathroom grabbing towels and a box of medical supplies. The adrenaline superseded her pain. She hurried back to Ryan.
“Hurry Nick, please hurry.”
Ben was still missing, Jack was miles away and Lily was under her feet. She knelt beside Ryan checking for secondary wounds. The first bullet had entered through the front of his chest and exited out his back. She had to stop the bleeding. She pressed a towel under the wound and then rolled him on top of it. Taking several more towels, she pressed hard to the front of his chest. Her teeth had turned numb from her own pain as she bandaged the wound on his shoulder.
It felt like hours passed, but it was only minutes. Ryan was losing blood, Lily was down below, she didn’t know where Ben was, or if he was okay, Jack was out on the property and she needed Nick now more than ever.
Lynn quickly went through the stack of towels next to her ignoring the pain in her ribs, she pressed harder on the wound. The silence inside the house screamed at her. As Ryan’s pulse slackened, her worst fears heightened. Tears formed under her bottom eyelids and rolled down her cheeks.
“Please come home, Nick.” She whispered. “Please.”
The calm within the house, with the exception of the occasional hum of the refrigerator and a lingering shard of glass falling to the floor, buzzed in her ears. Late morning passed and early afternoon approached when she heard a sound, soft and near inaudible, but she heard it. Her senses heightened as she strained to listen. Through blurry eyes, she watched. When she heard the sound, again there was a change in shadows as the light shifted. Trembling, she lifted her pistol and gripped the handle with both hands.
“Lynn.” The voice moved towards her. “Honey.”
Nick appeared through the sunlit fog and before she could say a word, he was moving towards her. Relief washed over her. He shoved aside furniture stepping on broken glass taking the stairs two at a time.
“Anymore?” Nick asked bending down toward Lynn.
“I don’t think so.” She said. “Lily is down below?” Her voice was hoarse. She gave in and began to cry.
He holstered his pistol and hers. She didn’t have to say anything else. Nick touched her softly with his hand at the same time he knelt down beside Ryan.
“Lynn, I need your help.”
She reached up to wipe the tears from her face, but blood covered her hands. Nick reached out and touched her face with his fingers brushing a fingertip across her swollen face. She heard him take in a deep breath.
“Can you help me Lynn?” He asked. When she nodded, he pulled Ryan away from her. “Everything will be alright,” He said. “I need more towels, my bag, and sheets. I’ll meet you in the surgery room.”
She fought off the pain in her side and willed herself to stand. By the time she was back downstairs, Nick had Ryan on the surgery table and hooked up to an IV. He was cleaning around the bullet wound.
Lynn glanced at the clock straining to make out the time. It was 12:22 PM. She grabbed a pen and wrote the time on some paper.
TEN
“Where’ve you been staying?” Riley asked Utah.
“The school.” Utah said. “Do you know what month it is?”
“November. I think. Where’d you live before the…?”
“Grants pass. You?”
“Sacramento.” Riley paused. “Have you seen anyone else?”
“A long time ago.” Utah said and then her voice lowered. “Some were monsters. No one like you though.”
“Like me?”
“Mama told us not to trust anyone.” Utah reached down smoothing out the dirty creases in her jeans.
“How’d you get to Langlois Utah?”
“We hid in a truck and walked some of the way.”
“What did you mean when you said monsters?”
“Crazy people.” Utah answered. “They have dead eyes.”
“The infected?”
The skies darkened. Utah didn’t answer. A dark greyish line of thick white clouds and black thunderheads formed to the east as if foreshadowing her sorrow. With the threat of rain coming, Riley began searching for a water source that shouldn’t be too difficult to find in a place so close to the ocean. A lake or creek would be enough to fill up enough water in the trailer so the girls could shower. She took the first state park that claimed to have a lake. After a lot of bucket toting, funneling the water into the tanks, Riley forked up the water heater and stood on patrol the girls got in together to shower.
“Mama puts conditioner in my hair.” Megan opened the door and called out lifting dark long curls in her hand.
“Yeah. I can understand why.” Riley said. “Have your sister do it Megan. Riley needs to keep watch.” Riley heard giggles and water pelting the shower curtain.
Riley gathered a handful of boys clothes she’d found packed in the trailer. Their clothing was not salvageable; instead, they’d make do until a little further down the road where they could do some shopping. Off in the distance a soft roll of thunder echoed a warning that a storm was on its way. Riley slipped one of the t-shirts over Megan’s head and she wiggled and giggled as she tried to adjust it. By the time Riley had her dressed, they were both laughing. The shirt, embellished with a Superman logo, did bring out the blue in Megan’s eyes and both, she and the shirt were clean. The clothes worked for Utah with some modification.
Waiting for the girls to become distracted, Riley tossed their clothing into a bush. By the time, they pulled into the Walmart parking lot some hour later; the sky had grown a dark grey.
“Why are we here?” Utah asked.
“Supplies and clothes for the two of you,” Riley said.
“We should stay here.” Utah said.
“Monsters.” Megan moved closer to her sister.
Utah wrapped her fingers around one of Megan’s curls gently and twisted it into a ringlet. The dirt was gone and they were looking to her for emotional support as well as needing someone to trust.
“I don’t like monsters,” Megan whispered. Her small heart shaped lips pursed forward.
“I can’t leave you in the truck.” Riley said pulling the pistol out from under the s
eat. She dropped the magazine, and checked her rounds. She got out, pulled the shotgun out from under the back seat, and loaded it. It made a telling sound as the shell entered the chamber. Megan scrambled out of the truck.
A gust of wind blew through the parking lot pushing litter across the ground in short strong bursts. In the flurry of wind, loose paper caught, took flight and began to dance. Utah climbed from the backseat and stood beside them. They faced the store.
“You stay with me no matter what, okay?” Riley said looking at the darkened depths of the entry while feeling a wave of anxiety. “If I stop you stop and be real quiet. Sometimes it’s best to just listen.”
“Utah told me that.” Megan said wrapping her fingers into Utah’s palm.
Riley took out her Vic’s and wiped it under her nose. She looked at Megan and Utah and then lowered the jar to their level. She got inquisitive looks from both of them.
“Vicks Deep Heating Rub,” Riley said lifting the jar into the air and turning the label so that they could see. “For the smells.”
Utah took a swipe and rubbed it under her nose.
“It’s like when you had a cold Megan. Mama put it on your chest remember? It smells good.” Utah took another dab and rubbed it under Megan’s nose. Megan scrunched up her nose at first and then smiled.
“Mmmm,” she said, smiling. “What about Max?”
“He doesn’t need any.” Riley said. “He’s going to wait for us here.”
Riley sighed looking around the parking lot. It was as if daylight went off leaving them in complete shadow. Frowning, she locked the truck while hesitating forward. Wal-Mart was literally open; shattered doors, windows layered the entry, and a deep abyss is the only thing beckoning them forward.
“Welcome to Walmart.” I whispered.
ELEVEN
Glass crunched under their feet, no senior Wal-Mart greeter offered them a cart. The container with hand sanitizer lay on the ground empty. Carts were scattered, turned over, and shoved purposely in an abstract and artistic display. Riley took the closest one standing and rested the shotgun inside.
The smell inside was sharp to sting the inside of their noses. Rotting mold and God knows what filled the stagnant air. Riley tried to stay focused. The girls needed clothes; they needed more water, food, and batteries. This was the best place for it all, if there was anything left. Utah took a hold of the cart. Riley flicked on the flashlight casting a splash of dim shadows on the checkout areas. Catching site of decaying bodies, Riley shuffled the girls forward shifting the flashlight away to look for a clear pathway. The store was a blatant spectacle of destruction with contents strewn in a chaotic manner. The isles, now short of a retail store maze, had no purpose to direction. Sorting by shapes and shadows, Riley began to look for anything they could use. Impossible to shield bodies from the girls’ sight, Riley witnessed their own reaction to their adjustment of dealing with death. Riley kept them moving.
“It smells bad,” Megan said pinching her nose. “I want more rub.”
“Breath through your mouth,” Utah whispered.
The main objective of this shopping spree was the clothing isles. Riley led the girls deeper into the store where more product and less bodies were. Megan followed Utah, her hand clasped tight to her sister. There were heaps of things with only a few items remaining on racks. Safer to start tossing the things they didn’t need and search only for what they needed. One problem, Riley had no clue what she was looking for.
“She’s six, but she wears a small.” Utah said seeing that Riley was struggling.
“Small,” Riley repeated while holding the flashlight in her mouth. Having never shopped for shopped for children and in a store demolished by violence, made the chore even more difficult.
“Just pick out what you’d wear.” Utah said.
Utah stepped over to a pile of clothes, picked up a pair of jeans, checked the size and then tossed them off to the side. She found another pair and held them up. “Here.”
Coming out of wore out stinky clothing did little to dissuade Megan from having her say in what clothes Riley kept. If Megan hated it, she would shake her head no. A far too bright fluffy pink skirt waved in the air like an astronaut claiming his stake on the moon. Megan had found her treasure and helped her find a shirt to match.
Utah started picking through clothes. The stack in the cart began to grow. They gradually moved to the shoes assessing the girl’s sizes tossing in socks and underwear. Riley tossed in a few coats, gloves and caps, an umbrella or two and rubber boots. Grabbing things in the dark and forgetting of those things hidden at the bottom of the piles. The cart was full and now thunder rattled the roof of the building. The sky rumbled, lightning cracked, and flashes of light popped through the stores openings. Riley stopped when her fingers touched something distinct and cold. She jerked her hand back and stood up gazing down at the dark mound of junk. Wal-Mart suddenly felt like a giant tomb, but the supplies were good here.
“Hold this.” Riley handed Megan the flashlight and lifted the shotgun. “Stay put.”
Maneuvering over several decayed bodies, Riley searched for candles, lighters and a sports bag that would hold it all. Looking back, she could see the soft dim glow of the light held in Utah’s hands. She could barely make out Megan’s silhouette as well.
Somewhere in the store, Riley heard metal on metal. Then silence. An echo of thunder reverberated overhead; the quiet switched to a series of rumbles. Lightning popped once and then twice sending a blue light through the fractures in the building. The hairs on her neck rose.
“Monsters.” She whispered. The sky cleared its throat again, but this time the bursts of rumbles were closer. Holding the shotgun, she moved to where she’d left the girls. The cart was there, but they were gone. Riley dropped her bag and moved the cart. Minus the flash light and camouflaged by the montage of overturned displays, she moved down the aisles. The mounds looked more like graves and the flashes of light outlines dismembered body parts.
The mini light on her keychain was enough to cast a dim eerie shadow on the dead. The smell of rotting flesh and food grew strong. She realized she was in the frozen food section of the store. Almost everywhere she looked was a sea of moldy food and bugs writhing under the rot. Some of the dead had expired a long time ago while others were not long in the decaying process. A small bead of sweat formed on her brow. She could hear her heart racing in her ears.
A voice from the darkness made her jump. “Welcome Wal-Mart shoppers.”
Shutting down the light, Riley waited. The weight of her shotgun suddenly felt heavy. Wherever the girls were, they were quiet.
“Pickup on isle eight.” There was a childlike twist to his words.
The monster moved fast, quiet. He’d kill her and then he’d find the girls. She waited for the thunder to mask her movement and then stepped backward away from the bodies. The darkness hid the distinctness of things under her feet and everything else became an outline. When the monster exploded from a gondola, Riley brought the shotgun to her shoulder and pressed the trigger. As if matching the guns powerful blast thunder exploded overhead. The shell burst out released from the barrel. Cheese puffs and several canned objects took flight midair and then fell in a scattered mess onto the floor.
“Rust.”
Sounds erupted from the opposite isle and then moved further away. The thunder ceased. She reloaded racking the shotgun sending out a solid warning. Darkness swallowed the silence; she paused withdrawing backward into its safety. Something scurried to her right and she spun around. The light shone forward silhouetting the girls.
“Is he dead?” Megan asked.
“No,” Riley said taking her flashlight and shutting it down. “Let’s get out of here. No wait. We need to get our stuff.”
It was time to go. They needed to get their things out of the cart.
“Bags! We need bags.” She said.
Riley pushed the cart towards the checkouts fast. One goofy tire caught, stopped
rolling and then gave up the second they reached checkout. Riley yanked out a handful of extra-large bags from under the checkout. Utah started bagging. Riley tossed loose sodas, packaged nuts and some other packaged items, meant to entice shoppers waiting in line, onto the pile. Before long, she had a secondary bag full of just food. The cart was full as they moved toward the entrance.
“Shopping sucks sometimes.” Riley muttered. “And thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart.”
A dim natural light shone not seventy-five feet away, the exit. Almost home free, a hand clamped down on her arm. Her flesh twisted under its hold.
“Run!” Riley yelled out.
Utah and Megan took off; Utah looked back as Riley hurled the truck keys into the air. Surprisingly, Utah caught them grabbing Megan’s hand, she pulled her toward the exit.
Pulled backward, Riley lost hold of her shotgun. She pitched her body to the left bringing out her pistol. He lost his grip. She broke free and fired. The bullet connected with a thud. He grunted, stumbled, and then fell forward taking a rack of clothing with him. Holstering her pistol, she grabbed up the shotgun.
Ready to face the enemy, he had disappeared. By the looks of it, she’d hit him solid and yet he’d been able to slip away. Catching glimpse of a bag of M&Ms laying under one of the racks, she snatched it up.
“Mmmm. Time to go!”
She tossed the bulging bags over her shoulder and made her way out the entrance. She wasn’t about to go looking for the man, or for trouble. Overhead, a sheet of light rain began to fall from the darkened sky.
The truck and trailer, amongst the compilation of various wrecked and or abandoned vehicles, was a welcoming sight. The girl’s faces pressed inside the cab’s window, eyes on her. Riley tossed all, but one bag into the hauler and put the one with Megan’s things in the back seat. Reaching for the door handle, Utah’s voice cracked with the sound of thunder.
“Riley!”
Not Alone: The Beginning (The Fighter Series Book 1) Page 5
