by Jeff Olah
“HIDE!”
149
With the door barricaded from the inside, Tom grabbed a stepstool and moved to the small frame of glass just above the doorway. His heart pounded in his chest and his legs ached as he used his sleeve to wipe away the sweat building on his face and neck.
“Those things seemed faster.”
He breathed out slowly through his nose and watched as the horde outside continued to cross the intersection, weaving their way toward the entrance. They now numbered in the hundreds, and although he’d just narrowly escaped becoming one of them, he was more than pleased to have them clustered outside the building. He knew who the men with weapons were and what they’d come for, and those Feeders, too many to count, would assure they never entered the building.
Off the stool and re-checking the door, Tom’s thoughts shifted to the reason for all of this. He closed his eyes for a beat, trying to get them to adjust to the dimly lit interior, and called out to her. “Emma?”
Footsteps at the end of the darkened hall. They were far off, but they were moving in quick succession and getting closer with each passing second. He could see her outline, the silhouette of her petite frame jogging with careful steps back toward him.
“You okay?”
Tom and his friends had cleared this small section of the building on the second day of the outbreak, and looking around, not much had changed. And as she stepped between the carefully situated display cases, he held out his hand for her. “Slow through there… and watch out for the glass.”
Emma fumbled her way through the slight opening between an inoperable refrigeration case and what remained of a mostly destroyed bagel oven. She turned sideways and stepped gingerly through the minefield of shattered glass, only returning her attention to Tom as she emerged from the narrow corridor.
“Hey,” Emma said, “we’re clear, I checked—”
He didn’t let her finish. “You should have waited by the door. You don’t know what’s back there.”
“Yeah, I know but there wasn’t—”
“No Emma, you should have stayed.” He moved by her and then around the back side of what used to be the front counter. All four registers lay in a twisted heap near the oak shelving that still housed a half dozen rock-hard bagels. Single file along the bottom shelf and not a single bite taken from any of the six mahogany colored rounds, he’d have guessed that they were either pumpernickel or maybe wheat.
Emma moved to the opposite side and stood on her toes. She leaned into the counter and watched as Tom pulled one register away from the rear of the counter and then the next. He then dropped to his knees and using his left arm for leverage, pulled away the third register.
“Wait, what are you doing? I thought we needed to …”
Her words trailed off when Tom dipped his head below the counter and began digging through the darkened mess. He tossed out an unopened box of register tape, three empty water bottles and more sleeves of coffee cups than she could count.
“Tom?”
He stopped momentarily and cursed under his breath. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“What?”
Tom slipped out from under the counter and got back to his feet. He shook his head, but was smiling. “Any chance you’d let me borrow that phone of yours?”
She quickly dug into her pack and held it behind her back. “Why are you so … I don’t know, so different.”
“Sorry,” he said, “just give me a minute.”
Back under the counter, he powered on the flashlight from Emma’s phone and let out a long deep breath. “Yep, that about sums it up.”
“What?”
He crawled back out from under the counter and handed Emma her phone. He stayed silent for a moment staring into the hall that she had just come from, holding out his index finger.
“We stashed two guns the last time we came out here. Number one is gone and I’ll bet dollars to doughnuts that number two is also missing.”
“So, we have to stay here until your friends come back?”
Tom scratched his head and closed his eyes. He cocked his head to the right and just listened.
“Okay,” he said. “It doesn’t sound like any of them got in, but we’re still gonna need to go room by room, just to be sure.”
“Your friends?”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t bet on them coming back. If they already came through and snatched the weapons, then there’d be no reason for them to return. We may have to figure something else out.”
“So,” Emma said, “what do we do now?”
“Now, we clear this building and find some food. Beyond that, I’m not really sure. We’ll carve out some space in the stockroom on the second floor and take turns watching the street. Make sure we don’t see anything we don’t like. Tomorrow morning, we’ll figure out the rest.”
Emma cinched down the straps of her pack and looked toward the rear of the bagel shop. “Okay, let’s go.”
They moved quickly and quietly through the dining area, making sure they hadn’t left any area unchecked. Once finished with the main area and the kitchen, Tom took the lead and with only a blue-handled ten-inch chef’s knife, he moved back through the hall leading to the bathrooms.
He stopped in front of the women’s lounge and pointed toward the wall opposite the door. “Stay here.”
Emma nodded.
With the knife in his right hand, Tom used his left boot to push open the door. He waited and listened for a count of three before stepping inside. Nothing out of the ordinary; in fact, it appeared that everything was where it had been the day the world went to hell.
Back out into the hall, Tom motioned toward the next door and the men’s room. He again asked Emma to wait where she stood and then walked the short distance. Even before pushing it open, his nose told him something or someone was inside. Whatever it was smelled dead, but he wanted to be sure.
With his left hand gripped tight to the handle, Tom shook the door and instantly got the reaction he was reluctantly expecting. Waiting a beat, he then pushed open the door just enough so that he could see it coming. Through the darkened space, he was able to make out the uniform and the fact that the individual wearing it was no longer on the clock.
The unfortunate former employee lumbered away from the sink and started toward him. It appeared the stocky teenager had been bitten on the face and neck, and then found himself in the men’s room attempting to hide from what he may or may not have known was coming.
Slamming into the two-inch gap between the door and the frame, the former employee shoved his face into the opening and bit at the air. He was already missing all but three teeth, giving Tom the impression that he may not have been the first to open this door.
With his left hand still clutching the handle, Tom drew back his right and shoved the blade through the opening. He slammed it into the small space between the boy’s left eye and his nose, and in pulling back the blade, the former bagel shop employee dropped to his knees and then fell sideways to the blood-soaked tile floor.
Tom pulled the door shut, turned back to Emma, and started back toward the dining room. Just beyond the entrance to the kitchen, he turned right and waved her over.
“I’m going to the top of the stairs and peek my head in. The stockroom is pretty wide open. That’s where we’ll stay for tonight.”
“What do you want me to do?”
She wanted to help, to contribute somehow; it was obvious in not only her words but in the look she wore as he started slowly up the stairwell. Tom wasn’t intentionally excluding her—even though this really was just a one-person job—it was just that her worth to him had little to do with her physical strength. She was much smarter than anyone he knew, and although she had yet to reveal her entire story, he understood that keeping her alive meant more now than ever.
Reaching the top step, he gripped the knife and leaned into the stockroom. Glancing from left to right, he stepped inside and returned a moment later, peerin
g down from the second floor.
“We’re good, it’s clear.”
Emma quickly climbed the darkened stairwell, and reaching the second level, stopped at the threshold to the stockroom. “Food?”
Tom held a Smith and Wesson M&P 9mm pistol as he stood in front of the window that overlooked the crowded streets below.
“Looks like my friends didn’t take everything.”
“So?” Emma said. “What now?”
“Nothing tonight.” Tom turned back toward the window and with the sun having long since faded into the horizon, he rolled his neck and leaned into the wall. “But tomorrow we find a way to leave this city.”
150
The group of six had sat in silence at the intersection of Blue Diamond Road and the entrance to Interstate Fifteen for the last two hours, the only thing offering a distraction from their own thoughts was the continued rain against the roof of the SUV. And although no one had actually spoken it, Frank felt the weight of their current situation directly resting atop his shoulders.
He held the steering wheel in both hands and looked over his left shoulder for the third time in as many minutes. His lower back now ached from sitting in the same spot, and again checking the rearview mirror, he decided to end the awkward situation. Rounding his shoulders and unbuckling his seatbelt, Frank let out a long breath and turned to the others.
“I’m sorry.”
Helen was the first to respond. Her voice came out broken and without emotion.
“Frank, no one blames you. I guess if anyone is to blame, it would be me … I should have never asked that we do this.”
“We’ll find him,” Frank said, now only half believing his own words. “And if anyone can survive out here alone, it’s him.”
The car fell into silence once again as Frank’s last statement hung in the air. Alone … Ethan was out here all alone and there wasn’t a thing he or anyone else could do to help. At this point, the group of six would probably have been more of a liability to Ethan than anything else.
Shannon shifted in her seat. “Okay then, what now?” She framed the question as though she was asking the group; however, it was obvious where her focus was as she stared at Griffin without blinking.
“I agree with Frank, Ethan is more than capable of taking care of himself, but since we’ve committed to this, we really don’t have the option of going back. The streets back there at the north end of town are way too crowded. We need to move on.”
Frank motioned back toward the city. “What about that car, you seemed pretty sure it wasn’t him?”
“Ethan wouldn’t be driving around town if he had found a vehicle. He would have jumped on the interstate and been halfway to the coast by now. That was someone else, and based on recent history, probably someone we don’t want to run across.”
Helen leaned forward and reached for Griffin’s hand. “What should we do, just leave?”
He shook his head and turned to Frank. “Whatta we got left in the tank?”
“We’re good,” Frank said. “We’ll easily make the coast.”
Griffin turned back to the others and paused a moment. “I believe that Ethan is long gone. He has probably already reached the coast and found Emma, but we really have no way of knowing for sure.”
He waited for his declaration to sink in and gave the others a chance to respond. When no one did, he continued, “Although if he didn’t and he’s still here in town, I know pretty much where we’ll find him.”
“Oh yeah,” Ben said. “Where’s that?”
“I’m sure he considered the possibility that more than a few of us would come after him once we found out he was gone, and that would mean he’d stay along the major arteries until he hopped on the interstate.”
Frank nodded. “Las Vegas Boulevard.”
“Yeah,” Griffin said. “Las Vegas Boulevard, and if he somehow couldn’t get out of the city, that’s where he’d wait.”
“Wait?” Helen asked.
“For help … for us.”
“So,” Frank said. “We head back?”
“Not completely. I say we go as far back as the airport, to where it got really bad, and then take Las Vegas Boulevard really slow, looking for something … anything. We take it south as far as we can before it runs back into the desert. If there’s no sign of him by then, it’s probably safe to assume he’s already in California.”
Griffin turned to Helen and then back to Frank. He wasn’t necessarily looking for their approval, but he figured he’d at least give them the chance to object. And when they both offered the same halfhearted smile, he retrieved the nine millimeter from the dash and pushed back into his seat.
“Frank, take us back to Sunset. We’ll start there. Y’all keep your eyes open. Look for anything lit up or any fires that look like they were intentional.”
Frank turned over the engine, flipped on the wipers, and turned the massive vehicle around. “Again, Griffin and I are the only ones who get out … even if we see him. And if I have to get out, Shannon will take my spot.”
Within twenty minutes, they had weaved their way back through the less crowded residential areas to the intersection at Sunset and Las Vegas Boulevard. Frank had turned them around and they now sat facing south with the SUV’s high-beams pointed into the distance. The driving rain had cut their visibility by half, although with nothing but a darkened world stretched out before them, anything out of the ordinary should be easy enough to spot.
“Alright,” Griffin said, “everyone keep your eyes open.”
Frank guided them into the southbound lane of Las Vegas Boulevard, staying alongside the center divider. He kept their speed at an even twenty-five miles per hour and peered out the driver’s window. Other than the desert landscape and a few randomly placed outdoor shopping centers, there was nothing else of consequence to see.
They drove another mile before passing an outlet mall on the left. Griffin sat forward in his seat and paid close attention to the four vehicles that remained in the mostly empty lot. He made note of their placement in relation to one another and then just as quickly, shook his head and turned back to his own window.
“Nothing has moved in that lot for days.”
The next street sign indicated that they were approaching East Windmill Lane. With another shopping center out the driver’s side window, Frank nudged Griffin and pointed to the lot along the southeast corner.
In a hushed voice, he said, “Can’t be sure, but I think there might be something over there.”
From the second row, Helen pushed away from her seat. “Something?”
“I don’t know, but it looked like a reflection off that first building, a light or something?”
Carly nearly climbed from the backseat pointing in the same direction. “Frank’s right, there’s a light on over there.”
Speeding up, Frank continued to watch as the source of the illumination slowly came into view. He thought he recognized what it was from earlier that night, and as they cleared the next building that sat up against the street, his suspicions were confirmed.
“Slow down,” Griffin said. “Pull to the side and cut the engine.”
Frank cut Griffin a look. “What are you talking about?”
Griffin turned to the back. “Everyone get down, right now … I know who that car belongs to.”
151
Ethan rarely got headaches, but today the stiffness in his shoulders had shot up through his neck and was now working its way into the back of his head. Leaning into the wall alongside the front windows, he dropped his chin, closed his eyes, and twisted from left to right and back again. There was someone in that car. Through the continued rain he couldn’t see who, but now that they’d cut their lights, he knew it was only a matter of time before he found out.
Again opening his eyes, Ethan squinted through the pounding rain, attempting to find the second set of headlights he was sure he’d seen. Whoever it was had stopped out on the street and was now less than a hu
ndred yards from the front of the store. He was less concerned with the second vehicle, although he found it odd that it showed up out of nowhere only minutes after the first.
Keeping his voice only slightly above a whisper, Ethan called out to the boy. “Zach.”
He was hidden in a cabinet below a produce stand that now carried the weight of a half dozen rotting heads of lettuce.
“Yes, Mr. Ethan?”
“You still okay, buddy?”
“Yes, it’s warm in here.”
“Remember to stay in there, no matter what you hear … okay?”
“Okay.”
He could hear the boy squirming in the cramped space. It may have been warm, but it wasn’t a place that would serve for much longer than an hour or two. Ethan knew the boy wasn’t the type to complain, but he also knew he’d have to find a more permanent solution to their current dilemma.
Momentarily putting aside the second vehicle, Ethan shielded his eyes and attempted to get another look at the partially blocked sedan that sat behind a few waist-high shrubs. The driver had cut the car’s lights on and off four times over the last ten minutes. This told Ethan that whoever had driven into the lot and stopped fifty feet from the door knew he was here.
Ethan squatted with his back to the wall and grabbed the AK-47 he’d taken from the hotel just before leaving. He placed it on his shoulder and moved to the three-foot-wide column between the two doors. Hidden from sight and with his back to the parking lot, he saw the sedan’s headlights flood in once again. This time they remained on and were set in the high-beam position.
“Zach, stay put.”
Ethan was at a loss. Going out through the back wasn’t going to be an option, at least not without a set of commercial grade bolt cutters. He and the boy could stay right where they were, but he assumed that their unexpected guest had something else in mind. At this point, his only real option was to go out alone.
Sliding his pack away from the door, Ethan readied the rifle and looked over his shoulder. With the headlights still focused through the doors, he reached out and unlocked the deadbolt. And as he began to pull apart the sliding doors, the world went dark once again.
