Infected Chaos

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Infected Chaos Page 11

by Loren Edwards


  “This doesn’t look good,” he spoke to himself looking in the rear view mirror. He kept eye on the two trucks until he pulled into the parking lot.

  Doug parked the vehicle and ran into the store.

  “We have company!” Doug announced running into the pharmacy.

  A smirk formed on David’s face as he watched the utility vehicle pulled from the rear pharmacy parking lot. He had planned to arrive and collect everything, but strangers had beaten him to the prescription medicine. He slammed his fist on the dash of Allen’s truck.

  “This is ridiculous! Why didn’t we think about hitting the pharmacy before today?” David growled.

  Allen shrugged his shoulders. “What do want to do?”

  David rubbed his chin. What if we that need medicine? Do they think I will be desperate and trade something important for a few pills? What if they ask for a something we don’t have? Then what?

  “Let’s go,” David commanded. He motioned to Montgomery, who was behind the wheel of the other truck.

  Allen drove to the parking lot behind the pharmacy, pulled the truck up to the rear door, and parked. He stepped out with an AR15 rifle and grabbed a second thirty-round magazine. He slid the extra magazine into his rear pocket. He looked across the cab of the truck and saw David cocking a Glock 17 pistol.

  Montgomery parked next to Allen and retrieved a sawed-off, double-barrel shotgun from behind his seat. He stuffed his pockets with shotgun shells, then loaded its two barrels. Bruce grabbed a bolt-action rifle from the rear seat and a pistol.

  David motioned everyone to huddle around him. “None of them leave here alive unless they hand over all the medicine they stole from us. Understand?”

  The men nodded.

  David grinned. “Perfect. Let’s go!”

  He told Allen to go in first, he would follow second.

  Allen swung the rear door of the pharmacy open. David rushed into the storage room with his pistol at the ready. He approached the pharmacy counter and looked around. At the opposite end of the store, David spotted a head above a shelf running toward the front of the store.

  “Shoot!” David instructed.

  Allen raised his rifle and pulled the trigger.

  David told Allen to go left to the far corner behind the counter. David took the middle and motioned for Montgomery and Bruce to flank the right. They rushed to their assigned locations. Dane ran to David’s side.

  “You sure about this, brother?” Dane quizzed.

  David nodded and saw Dane’s unblinking eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure, Dane. How’d you like to be on your deathbed this winter dying from the common cold? The only thing standing between living and dying is what those guys have. We have to stop ‘em.”

  “What do you want?” a voice from in front of them yelled.

  “We want the medicine!” David shouted back.

  “So do we!”

  “Give it to us, or we will make sure none of you get out of here alive!” David returned.

  “I don’t think so,” the voice replied.

  David was irritated. “So be it!”

  David looked to his right. Montgomery and Bruce were looking back at him. He motioned them to come. They slid across the floor, keeping their head below the pharmacy counter.

  “Take Allen’s truck, and park in the front where they can’t escape. I want to you fire into the store at them.” David pointed. “We’ll get ‘em in a crossfire.”

  Montgomery smiled and patted David on the shoulder, then ran through the rear door into the parking lot. A zombie greeted him in front of the truck. He reared the butt-stock of the shotgun as he rushed to the truck and drove it into the infected’s skull without missing a step. He closed the door when Bruce ran from the pharmacy and jumped in the driver’s seat of the truck.

  Montgomery pointed. “Got two behind us.”

  Bruce started the engine, and accelerated over two infected behind the truck. Bruce shifted gears and sped to the front of the store. He brought the red truck to a screeching halt within a foot of the blue and white Defender.

  “That’ll keep ‘em in,” Bruce said and smiled. “Let’s go!”

  Bruce jumped from the truck and grabbed his rifle. He leaned against the hood and aimed at the pharmacy. Montgomery joined Bruce and readied the short-barrel shotgun.

  “What do you expect to hit with that thing?” Bruce smirked, pointing at the short barrel shotgun. “That thing won’t travel twenty yards without being too far of a spread. Here, take this.” Bruce handed Montgomery a Glock from his waistband.

  Montgomery readied his grip around the pistol and nodded at Bruce.

  “Now!” Bruce commanded.

  Bruce and Montgomery unleashed a volley of gunfire into the pharmacy windows. Shards of glass showered down around the Defender.

  “Idiots!” David cussed under his breath as a cluster of bullet fragments raced above him. He looked under the door on the counter and spotted Montgomery and Bruce shooting blindly into the store.

  “Allen, go left! Dane, go left!” David instructed.

  David looked to his left to see Allen firing his rifle toward the front of the store. “Be careful! Montgomery and Bruce are out there. Do you see them?”

  Allen nodded as he bobbed his head around the shelf, looking for an intended target. “I see ‘em.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Cliff laid on his side, cupping his hands to his ears as glass rained down from the gunfire. Bags of chips and bottled drinks exploded on the shelves behind him. Pieces of glass tore into his palms as Cliff tried to crawl to the corner of a nearby shelf to gain a better view. The men in the front took him by surprise. He expected they might run into marauders, but he didn’t think they would be this bold. He was too preoccupied with the infected to be worried about being ambushed. Now, he had both to worry about.

  “All this noise will bring the infected this way!” Jake yelled over the gun blasts.

  “Unfortunately,” Cliff replied.

  “Had enough?” the voice in the rear of the pharmacy called out.

  Cliff looked at Jake and Chris, who were ten feet away and laying prone. Both gazed at him. He noticed Jake shaking his head with his hands covering his ears. Chris had the eyes of a panic-stricken grunt in his first gun battle. He looked beyond them to see Doug lying on the floor eating a small bag of candy. Cliff shook his head.

  “Psst, Doug!” Cliff called.

  “Yeah,” Doug grunted.

  “The meds still in the truck?”

  “Yeah, except those two bags next to me that have the over-the-counter pills.”

  “Throw me one.”

  Doug slithered on the floor on his belly and slid the bag across the glass. Cliff hoisted himself off the floor onto his knees. He crawled to the edge of the shelf and peered around the corner. He saw three men in the back of the pharmacy: one on each side and one in the middle. Cliff took it the man in the middle was the one calling out demands.

  Cliff returned to the shelf and looked at the parking lot. He saw a truck blocking the Defender in and lowered his head. Looking under the truck, he saw two pairs of boots on the far side of the vehicle.

  “There’s two outside and three in the back of the store!” Cliff yelled out when a series of gunshots rang out in the pharmacy.

  “We’re trapped!” Chris cried.

  “Not yet!” Cliff returned.

  “Had enough?” the voice called again.

  Cliff ignored him. He looked up at the shelf above him and saw a row of isopropyl alcohol bottles. He bit his bottom lip, he needed a diversion. He needed to leave with the medicine. He needed to make it to the Defender, leave without being followed, and with no one shot in the process.

  Cliff spotted a protein drink in a glass bottle. He was closest to the refrigerated cooler by the check-out lane.

  “See those bottles in the cabinet? The ones with the orange labels?”

  Jake took a double look at Cliff’s smiling face. “These?” Jake pointe
d.

  Cliff nodded.

  Jake opened the door and retrieved three protein drinks.

  “I don’t know what you have in mind, but make it quick,” Jake returned as he rolled him the bottles and shrugged.

  Cliff poured the protein drinks onto the floor. He refilled the bottles with isopropyl alcohol then tightened the lid. Cliff pulled his Spider Co knife from his right front pocket and stabbed the blade through the aluminum lids. He placed the three bottles next to him and was about to turn toward Jake when a shirt landed by his leg. He looked up to see Jake smiling. He cut the shirt into strips and stuffed them into the slit in the cap.

  Jake low crawled new to Cliff.

  “Boy! This place has everything,” Jake announced as he reached above his head and pulled down a lighter that was on sale for ninety-nine cents. He unwrapped it and handed it to Cliff.

  “What’s the plan?” Jake asked.

  “Well,” Cliff started as he hopped up on his feet, making sure he stayed below the top of the shelf. “I think the guy in the middle back there is the leader. I’m thinking if you cut him down, the rest may follow and leave with their tails between their legs.”

  “If that doesn’t work?” Jake returned.

  “I dunno. I guess we’ll smoke ‘em out. They will exit the back, and that will leave us with two between us and the truck. It improves our odds.”

  Jake smiled.

  Cliff looked at Doug and explained to him with hand gestures what he planned. Doug was on his second bag of candy when he nodded and gave a thumbs-up.

  “Chis? You good?” Cliff asked.

  Chris nodded and returned his face to his hands.

  “This is your last chance! Give up the medicine, and we’ll let you live!” David announced. Deep down, David knew he couldn’t let them leave alive. They were a threat now, and if he let them live, they’d be a threat tomorrow, too.

  He leaned around the corner of the aisle and took aim with his pistol. He couldn’t see any movement, but it didn’t stop him from pulling the trigger. He shot wildly at the shelf he thought the men were hiding behind, hoping his bullets would penetrate the barrier. His shots triggered Allen and Dane to open fire.

  “You hear what I said? Leave the medicine, and you’re free to go!”

  “How do we know you won’t shoot us in the back?” a voice replied.

  David grinned. “You have my word.”

  “Your word don’t mean squat!” the voice returned.

  “Fine!” David yelled back. “Allen open up.”

  Just as Allen began shooting, David leaned around the corner of the aisle and saw a burning bottle flying at him. As soon as the bottle landed in front of him, everything around him erupted into flames.

  David grabbed his face and yelled in pain.

  Dane and Allen turned when David began yelling. They saw him slapping the flames on his left arm and running past the pharmacy counter. Allen exchanged looks with Dane, then followed after him.

  Allen entered the rear room to see David seething in pain. The skin on his neck and arm had already formed blisters. Allen swallowed. He rummaged through the shelving, looking for something that could help his brother’s pain.

  “Hang on, I’m sure there’s something here to help,” Allen said as David slumped onto a stool while holding his arm below the elbow.

  He fumbled at the top shelf and located a bottle of OxyContin in the far back; he shook the bottle to his ear, opened it, and handed David two pills.

  He spotted some cabinets lining the far wall and opened it. He tossed everything over his shoulder until he found a box of medicated gauze pads. He rushed back to David and applied the gauze to the most serious wounds along his shoulder and neck. He looked up to see David’s eyes starting to glaze over.

  “Dane! Get in here!” Allen called.

  Dane fired a few shots at the check-out lanes as he shuffled his way to the rear room. He found Allen applying gauze to David’s wound.

  “Let’s get out of here. Help me get him to the truck,” Allen instructed.

  Cliff threw the second Molotov cocktail toward the pharmacy counter as the last man fled to the rear room.

  The rear of the store began to fill with smoke. Cliff looked out to the parking lot. The other two were still behind the red truck sporadically firing into the store. He crawled across the floor toward Doug and Chris.

  “What’s the plan, boss?” Doug asked, flinching when a bullet whizzed by.

  “Looks like we eliminated the threat in the back. Now, we have to worry about the front. We’ll need to act soon, before the fire gets closer.”

  “Yeah, we’re kinda between a rock and a hard place,” Doug added.

  Cliff pointed to the AR 15 lying next to Jake. “How many rounds do you have left in the magazine?”

  “Twenty-two. I got off eight rounds early. Why?”

  “You’ll see,” Cliff answered then turned his attention to Doug. “Can you see the two men outside? Behind the truck.”

  Doug spun himself around, keeping his chest on the floor. He cocked his head, almost touching his ear to the floor, and gazed through the shattered glass front.

  “Yeah, I see two guys on the other side of that truck,” Doug answered.

  “Good. Here, take this,” Cliff stated, handing his Ruger Mini-14 to Doug. “When I give the signal, I want you to shoot at their feet. Got that?”

  Doug nodded, handing his shotgun to Cliff.

  “Are you doing what I think you’re going to do?” Jake quizzed.

  Cliff grinned and waited a moment before answering. “When I tell you, I want you to stand and shoot at their heads.”

  “Do what?” Jake asked wide-eyed.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Cliff hoisted himself from the floor and stayed low, using the cash register as a shield. He rocked on the heels of his feet some, trying to loosen his leg muscles. He held the Molotov cocktail in his right hand and leaned around the counter. He spotted the two men leaning against the hood of the truck; they were still aiming at the store.

  “You can do this,” Cliff said to Jake.

  “What do you want me to do?” Chris spoke, lifting his head.

  Cliff saw Chris trembling. “Nothing. Stay there until I tell you to run.”

  Cliff glanced at Doug and mouthed to ask if he was ready. Doug held his thumb up.

  “Jake, you ready?” Cliff asked.

  “No time better than now,” Jake replied.

  “Good. When I tell you, I want you to jump up and shoot. Doug will shoot at their feet. This should give me time,” Cliff explained.

  Jake nodded.

  “Get ready, Doug.”

  Doug swung his body around on the floor to face the red truck. He raised his upper body off the floor, slid his elbows under himself, and brought the rifle up to his shoulder. He gave Cliff a thumbs up.

  “Go!” Cliff commanded.

  Doug fired.

  Jake took a signal from Cliff and rose to a standing position behind a cash register. He took aim at the front hood and pulled the trigger.

  Cliff lit the Molotov cocktail and sprinted to the glass front. He saw the front end of the truck and threw the cocktail over the Defender. Cliff paused to watch the glass bottle fly through the air. He hoped his makeshift firebomb found its target.

  The glass bottle shattered across the hood of the truck. The windshield and hood erupted in fire. Cliff smiled when he heard the screams. He looked around the SUV to see one of the men waving his arm erratically, trying to extinguish it. The second man grabbed his buddy by the waist and hurried him away from the truck.

  “Come on!” Cliff yelled.

  He ran to the Defender, climbed in, and started the engine. He looked up to see Jake and Chris darting around the front. Cliff smiled to see Doug carrying the last duffle bag over his shoulder. Within four seconds, everyone was in the Defender. Cliff slid the gearshift into reverse and crashed into the front bumper of the truck. He shifted into drive, drove f
orward five feet, then reversed again. The rear bumper of the Defender tore into the red truck. Cliff turned the wheel and stomped on the gas pedal. The Defender’s tires screeched against the asphalt, pushing against the truck. Cliff kept his foot on the pedal and turned the wheel more. The Defender’s rear bumper freed itself from the truck.

  “There goes the paint job,” Cliff joked.

  Allen carried David to the passenger’s side of Montgomery’s truck. He closed the passenger door and ran around to the driver’s side. He slid into the seat while Dane climbed into the bed of the truck. Allen turned the key in the ignition, and the engine turned a few times, but it didn’t come alive. He turned the key again and pumped the gas pedal. The engine refused to fire.

  “Dammit! Let’s go!” Allen yelled at the truck.

  He turned the key and pumped the gas pedal. After ten seconds of the engine trying to turn over, it fired to life. Allen let out a cheer and threw the gearshift to reverse. He looked to his left to see three infected from the street stumbling toward him. He ignored them as he shifted to drive and accelerated the truck to the street, running over one of the undead.

  Allen slammed his fist on the dash when he saw the blue and white Land Rover dart from the parking lot. It turned onto the street, accelerating away.

  He looked to the front corner of the pharmacy to see Bruce holding Montgomery by the waist, helping him limp to the street. Allen drove the truck onto the sidewalk. Dane jumped from the bed and helped Bruce load Montgomery into the bed. He moaned in pain as they laid him down.

  Allen tightened his grip on the steering wheel; his knuckles were white as he watched the Defender drive away. “Let’s go! Those guys are getting away!”

  “Home, Allen. Take us home,” David whispered, his words slurred.

  “They’re getting away!” Allen argued.

  David barely opened his eyes. He glanced over to Allen. “Live to fight another day, Allen,” David grimaced. “Head home, and let’s regroup.”

 

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