Hatched

by Jason Davis

  At least talking to her had focused him back to the situation. However, it was so hard to think with his mind struggling to fight through the exhaustion. Just by hearing her voice, she reminded him of what was happening.

  Shit, why hadn’t he thought about his brother-in-law before? He should have just asked her. Sure, he would have had to listen to the reason she called, but he could push past it and get her husband there. Luis was a good man. He would have come. It wouldn’t have even been that hard of a push and Luis would have been racing there.

  He looked back down at the woman in front of him as he flipped open his phone to call her back. As he did, his hand lowered for a second, and it was then that the woman on the floor bit into his flesh.

  He screamed. The pain was intense as it lit a fire through his palm and burned up his arm. He felt a warmth spreading over the burning already there, and the area seemed to flood with a red wetness. In the back of his mind, he knew it was blood. His blood. It poured out of him, bathing the face of the woman he had been trying to help.

  He tried to pull his hand away, but she held on, her teeth deep in his flesh. He tried to think, but every time he did, the pain in his hand sent white flashes behind his eyes. It seemed too bright, the room swirling around him, feeling like there was suddenly too much information for him to take.

  His legs gave way and he felt himself fall back to the floor. The woman came with him, trying to get on top of him. He felt when she let go of his hands by the pain of her teeth scraping on the shattered bone she had bitten through.

  He didn’t remember pulling his gun from its holster…or firing it. When he heard the shot, it surprised him, his bladder giving way. The force of the shot threw the woman off him.

  Behind her, he saw the other one closing in. He raised the gun, the weight of it suddenly heavy in his hand, and pointed it at her.

  “Stay away from me!” he yelled. He tried to use his other hand to grab his phone, which had fallen to the linoleum floor, but it burned with the pain. Blood ran out of him, and every sensation, even the cool floor, sent tendrils of flames up his arm. When he finally reached his phone, the effort of trying to close his fingers made him feel white-hot pain, his head screamed with the intensity of it. The woman still came toward him.

  His arm trembled, the gun seeming to get heavier the longer he held it.

  “Stop! Stay where you are!” he yelled again. She took another step.

  He squeezed the trigger. For how little he practiced, he had always been a decent shot. Still, he missed. He saw the cash register monitor behind her spark. The woman kept coming, taking another limping step toward him. He fired again, missing.

  He saw motion out of the corner of his eye, but it was too late to do anything about it. As soon as he saw her, the woman he had tried to help, she grabbed his gun arm, her mouth closing around his wrist. He screamed in pain as her teeth broke the skin.

  Chapter 7

  Winona tried to analyze what she had seen. She needed to figure it out. She was a nurse, a medic, and was used to saving people’s lives. It was what she did. It was what she was trained to do. Sure, she had other talents, but it was her calling to help others.

  After the first attack, she had hurried down the aisle, only thinking of herself and how to get out of there. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but people had been killed. Her first instinct had kicked in and she had rushed away.

  She had made it to the back and into the stockroom. There wasn’t much there, but she saw two fire doors and the loading dock. She figured the fire doors would probably set off some type of alarm, but she would be gone, be safe, away from the carnage that was happening at the front of the store. Unless there were more people out back. No. What was going on in front of the store was a clusterfuck and not a planned killing spree. She knew that. But all that mattered to her right now was the door.

  She ran to the fire door and pushed it. The latch release clanged loudly in the open area. She was almost out of there. She could practically feel the warm air and hot sun hitting her face.

  In her mind’s eye, she saw the open field that lay beyond the door. In reality, there was an alley, loading dock, and houses, but in her mind, she saw that field. Daisy’s blossomed under the clear blue sky as she burst out, running to some kind of freedom. She wouldn’t have to think about the death, blood, or body parts that she had seen because she would be away from it all.

  She stopped before the emergency alarm on the door went off and rested her head against the cool metal. She couldn’t leave. Not yet. She would never be able to make it to that freedom, not when she didn’t know if those people inside were okay. There had been people still alive and she left them to die. It wasn’t like her to leave anybody behind. Not only was it her duty, her obligation to take care of people and help them, but that person she loved being would never be able to live with herself if she left. How would she be able to look back on this day if she knew there might be people alive who would die if she didn't help?

  She looked around the area. It wasn’t separated from the front of the store by a door. There was a cement wall that kept customers from seeing back there, but there was no barrier to keep anyone out. She saw a row of large metal beams in what looked like fixed scaffolding. Mounted on them were large white wire shelves where various items were stored. She had to run around this when she had first come in. From where she was now, she couldn't see out to the front of the store.

  There was a little path with more shelving. It looked like someone had been working back there recently. There was a ladder set up, and the white display shelving used throughout the store was stacked haphazardly about, as though someone had just left it. It made it really hard for anyone to walk around. It was also an excellent place for a person to hide.

  She thought about climbing back there. Maybe she could hide until someone came for her. Maybe help would be there soon, and then everything would be okay. She would be safe. They would all be safe. But if she wasn’t going to go back to the front and help those people, she might as well have gone out the fire door.

  Why had I even come back here if I wasn’t going to escape?

  It was a question she would continue to ask herself as she headed back to where the receiving area ended and the main store began. It was odd with how the store just transitioned into the receiving area. It was a wide open space, but when a person reached the threshold, it was obvious they were entering a forbidden part of the store. The floor turned from overly waxed linoleum to dark gray cement. The lighting, while it was still the same bulbs, seemed to not be as bright, and the air was cooler. It really did almost feel like entering a tomb.

  She reached the edge of the threshold and stood near the wall. She just didn’t know what she should do or how she should do it. Where should she start? What she needed was some kind of diversion to get whomever was up at the front of the store away from that area. Assuming they were still at the front of the store. They may be searching the aisles, looking for more people And if she did a diversion, wouldn’t that just bring them back to her? Did she have a timer to set something up?

  She pulled out her cell phone. It seemed like it took forever for the black screen to light up. She quickly unlocked it and felt that sudden pang of desire. She wished she could just call someone. Maybe she could try the emergency number again, see if maybe the situation had been resolved. The cavalry may already be there.

  Something crashed in the front of the store. Quickly, she moved to the side, ducking behind the wall. The only way someone could see her would be for them to walk into receiving. Even then, she was sure that, as long as she didn't move too much, no one would turn to look in her direction.

  She looked back at her phone. No signal. A small blip of a bar did form, making a glimmer of hope rush through her, but the bar disappeared quickly. Damn department stores… It always seemed to happen when she went shopping. She would always lose signal toward the back of the store. She should
have thought of that.

  “Fuck,” she whispered.

  That noise at the front of the store probably meant it wasn’t going to be good up there. She didn’t know if anyone had helped any of the victims.

  When things started happening, she had hurried to the back. There was always the chance the two teenagers could have been subdued by others. She had no way of knowing what was going on until she went up there and checked it out.

  But if they weren’t subdued, she still had to worry about them. At first, she had thought the one with the gun was trying to help them. The longer she thought about it, the more she realized there was no way he could have actually shot the biter. He had to have been faking it, maybe even working together. She would have to worry about at least two people.

  Winona turned and looked toward the front of the store, using the receiving wall as cover. The store had grown very quiet and it was hard to believe it was even open.

  The right side of the store contained office furniture and chairs. None of it would allow her any decent cover to hide behind, so she looked to the left. She saw high rows of shelving that ran parallel with the main aisle. She could use those. She figured she could flank around, use the shelves for cover, and make her way back to the front. She hoped to make it far enough that she could get a view of the people who had been attacked, maybe even help them.

  She still needed a diversion. She looked back at her cell phone. Still no service. Her gut twisted with an idea. It would leave her without her phone, but it would work.

  She looked toward the office furniture. If she did it over there, she could be seen trying to set it up. While it would be optimal, as it was far from her projected position,

  She couldn’t risk it.

  Unlocking her phone again, she set the alarm clock. She made sure to set multiple alarms because the last thing she wanted was for them to come back there too soon. Five minutes was more than enough time for her to get to the side wall and work her way up along the flank. She just hoped that it was going to be loud enough for them to hear it.

  ****

  She took a step forward, about to step out of the shadows. She would be visible from the front of the store for a brief time, and she knew she would have to make a quick dash.

  She nearly stumbled when the loud ringing sounded from overhead. It wasn’t an alarm. It was an incoming phone call that had gone unanswered. The system worked where if the car went unanswered long enough, it would ring over the PA system.

  Winona had to catch herself to keep from falling. She continued to the center aisles, stopping when she was at the end of it. The sound of the phone ringing helped hide the sound of her running. She felt odd running like that, like she was a child trying to hide from her parents. It just didn’t feel real.

  She moved to look down the aisle, but still stayed close to the shelves. She leaned forward and looked around it. The store was very still. There hadn’t been a lot of customers before, but it definitely felt like she was the only one here now. Was there even anyone still around? She stayed crouched as she went to the next aisle. The phone rang again, the sound echoing off the linoleum and seeming to vibrate through her.

  What the hell are you thinking? Who did you think you are? You’re not some hero. You’ve helped and supported troops in the field, yes, but you are not Rambo or starring in some Bruce Willis film. What the hell do you think you are doing?

  Her job. That was what she was doing. She never should have run to the back. Her training was to run to the action, not away from it. What would her superiors have said if they saw her running? That was what civilians did, and she had lost that right when she joined the Guard.

  She was ashamed. She had convinced herself it was because she wasn't in uniform so she had reacted differently. The uniform was a symbol, but that shouldn’t matter. Damn, she still should have done her duty.

  She looked down the next aisle and still didn't see anyone. She hurried across the opening and stopped. Her lungs burned, and her head swam. Spots danced in the air around her, clouding her vision, so she closed her eyes and let out a long breath. She hadn’t realized that she had been holding it.

  She looked around. In the left corner, behind a row of shelves, was another fire door. She thought she had seen it before, but wasn’t sure until she had gotten closer. Above it, the “Exit” lights blazed brightly, and there was a large stack of chairs in front of it. She couldn’t believe that wasn’t a fire hazard. Now she knew she had an emergency way out at least.

  Just keep track of the exits, she thought. She needed to mentally mark where they were, just in case she needed them.

  She peeked around the last aisle. She hadn’t realized the phone had stopped ringing until it started again. Its loud tones vibrating through the overhead speakers caused her head to throb. How could the people work here with that loud ring all day? No wonder they went insane, and who wanted office supplies that badly that they needed to keep calling?

  Part of her hoped that maybe it was the authorities. Wouldn’t it be too soon, though? She tried to think about how long she had been in the back room, trying to decide what to do. She hadn’t thought she had been back there all that long. It couldn’t have been longer than ten minutes, could it? Just how long would it take for the police to come? She had no idea how they responded in the smaller communities. Yes, she had lived there her whole life, but this wasn’t a typical situation. She imagined that once they had gotten her call, they probably would have gotten there as quickly as they could.

  Looking down the aisle, she saw a phone. She doubted she could call out on it; otherwise, the high school and college kids who worked there would probably be on it all day long. However, she thought she could answer the call coming in. There was still no one in the aisle. She hadn’t seen any signs of life since she had started sneaking around. She should be safe to answer the phone. She didn’t like putting herself in the line of sight from the front of the store, but she still had the back fire door. If something came at her, she could still make it out. But the one guy had a gun. She couldn’t outrun bullets.

  Just do it, she thought, working up the courage. Taking a deep breath, she ran to the phone and grabbed it, the handset nearly slipping out of her grasp. She had to fight to control it as she brought it up to her ear. Her lungs burned, and she fought to regain her breath. It hadn’t been a long run, but she still had to calm herself down.

  “Hello?” she whispered.

  Silence. She heard her heart pounding in her chest. There was no one there. They must have hung up. After all of that calling, that constant ringing as it cried out for attention over the loud speakers, the damn thing was now silent. She was alone again, left to try and help the people in the front of the store by herself.

  So be it. She let her head rest against the cool metal of the shelves and felt the small trickle of a tear.

  In the distance, she heard a phone ringing. It had to be from one of the neighboring stores, or maybe it was just in her mind. Perhaps the bells of insanity were calling her name. It didn’t matter. She had a job, and it was time to do it. She had to help. It seemed obvious that no one was coming to help them. She would have to do it on her own.

  Then the ring sounded over the speakers again. She turned to look at the ceiling, then back at the phone. There was a flashing light for one of the incoming lines. She pushed it.

  “Hello?” she whispered again, barely able to hold back

  the tears that threatened.

  “This is Officer Daniels of the Hammond Police Department. Who am I speaking to?” The man’s voice seemed loud, making her wish she could find a way to lower the volume on the handset.

  “Specialist Winona Peters of the National Guard. I was in here shopping when the violence started.” She was trying to talk quickly and quietly. She thought she heard something rustling the next aisle over so she turned to look. She couldn’t see anything.

  “What can you tell me about what is
going on? Who's in charge? How many hostages?” the officer asked.

  “I don’t know if anything has changed since I was up front. I ran to back of the store. I don't think there are any hostages. From what I saw, it looked like some kind of mass murder situation. I don’t know what to call it. It was cannibalistic. One person started attacking another, then someone else started shooting. It might be a robbery, but I haven’t found any other survivors yet.”

  “Okay, how many... Wait! What the hell? Someone's coming out. They look like they're covered in...”

  In the background, she heard another man shouting. “Put your hands on top of your head and get down on the ground!”

  “Hold on,” Daniels said into the phone.

  “Get down on the ground! Now!”

  “Winona, we have a woman that just came out. She's covered in blood.”

  Winona was shocked. “She must have been one of the customers.”

  “Well, she doesn’t look...right. I need to ask you. Have you seen Sheriff Carter? He went in about ten minutes ago.”

  “I was in the back. I heard a shot not too long ago, but

  nothing within the last five minutes.”

  “Stop!” she heard someone shout.

  “You said this woman was a customer?” Daniels asked, his tone tight.

  Chapter 8

  Cell phone in one hand, Daniels held up his other, signaling to the other officer to lower his gun. He stood behind his open car door, feeling like he was in some classic television show about hostage negotiations. It didn’t help that his car was parked in a “V” with the other officer, and he was just barely out of his door. Kalwalski stood outside of his truck and had his gun leveraged on his hood, pointing it at the woman walking toward them. He looked at Daniels' gesture, raising his eyebrows. Daniels nodded. Judging by the large man’s angry glare, he could tell Kalwalski didn’t like it, but he pulled back and lowered his revolver.