John O'Brien - Chaos

Walking around to where the Jeep is parked, I replace the two rounds I fired. There isn’t any sign of Robert or Michelle. I walk towards the front and finally see both of them a slight distance away from the front door by the pumps, aiming at the front door; the tension in them screams outward like physical waves. I am rather glad I didn’t come out that way.

“Expecting something?” I call out standing a short distance away.

The startled way they jump and turn in my direction makes me glad I didn’t follow through with my thought of walking up behind them and asking what they were looking at. Wouldn’t do at all to go through what I had only to be nicked by one of them. Plus, considering what they have both been through today, it just wouldn’t have been a very cool thing to do. Amused me perhaps, but in light of everything, maybe not really that funny.

They walk over with their eyes opening wide as they get closer. “Are you okay?” Roberts asks staring at my head.

“Yeah, I think so,” I say walking to the side mirror of the Jeep to look.

There are streaks of blood drying along the left side of my face and neck with small chunks of other miscellaneous matter in my hair. I walk to the back of the Jeep where I keep several rags. Soaking one with some of the bottled water I keep close by, I wipe the gore from my face.

“Better?” I ask walking back to the front. They both nod.

“The store appears clear now so let’s get some supplies. I’m going to see if I can find the keys to the Honda. If I can find them, then let’s load that up with the supplies. Concentrate on getting canned food and water. You two get the supplies and load the car. I’ll keep an eye out. I wouldn’t highly recommend going up the aisle between the bathroom and the first shelf.

“Oh, and next time I say get out, do so! When I tell you to do something, do it immediately!” I tell them as we start toward the front door.

“What happened?” Robert asks and I give a very brief and non-detailed answer, showing them the duct tape on my arm, as we walk to the front.

The darkness within is a lighter shade of gray due to the doors being propped open allowing us to see in greater detail. I walk over to the corpse still lying on the ground. The fingers have stopped their twitching and I reach down patting the front pockets checking for keys, noticing the slacks have a hole with a large, dark stain surrounding it on the left side at about the mid-thigh. This must be where my first round hit. I feel a lump in the right front pocket and, reaching in, pull out a set of keys. A small amount of change falls out and a quarter rolls along the ground. My eyes follow it as it makes a complete circle around me, falling over only when it hits the pool of blood on my other side and disappears beneath the dark liquid. In the back room, I find a couple of green aprons and cover up the corpse as best I can.

Jangling the keys, I walk out of the side door to see if they are indeed for the car outside. Inserting them into the driver’s door, the lock pops open and the dome light comes on. Good, the battery is still good . I wonder what drove the woman inside to come to the store. She must have been ill. I’m guessing she came for supplies or some sort, and transformed while within the store. At least I hope that’s the case and these things can’t drive . Unlocking the rest of the car, I open the trunk then start it. The fuel gauge shows just under ¾ of a tank. Alrighty then , I think shutting down the car. Back inside, I tell Robert and Michelle we are good to go on the car. Passing the keys to Robert, I tell him, “You’re driving.”

The two of them pack the car with all of the canned goods, water, aspirin and other meds, beef jerky, nuts, plastic silverware, plates, cups, batteries, and other miscellaneous food items. There are several cases of both water and canned food in the stock room. The single items go into empty cardboard boxes we find in back. I grab several six-packs of Blue moon and hand them to Robert. “What’s this for?” He asks smiling.

“Never mind. Just make room for them,” I answer smiling back. “I have one other thing to take care of. You two wait outside.”

I walk over to the corpse and start dragging it by the heels to the back door and outside. We may need to use this store in the future and I don’t want to leave the body inside to decompose. The body leaves a wet trail behind for the first few feet like a mop that has been soaked in a dark liquid; the hair having soaked up part of the liquid pool lying around it. Hauling it outside into the shade, I head toward the trees on the hill. With the arms dragging above its head like it is reaching for the door and reluctant to leave, I see the body better in the light of the day. The skin does have a translucent aspect and is light gray in color. The paleness does not seem to be totally from a lack of blood. Darker splotches blemish the grayish skin tone with the surface veins clearly visible and of the same darkish gray.

Leaving the shade of the store, the sunshine, streaming down from its afternoon westering position, illuminates the body. The exposed skin changes from a gray translucence into a reddish color. Because I am walking backwards with my hands pulling on the ankles, I see this transformation clearly.

Stopping in the sunlight, I set the ankles down and kneel by the left side. Peeling up the blouse sleeve a little, I see the skin there is still the translucent gray but quickly changes to the red color once it is exposed the rays of the sun. Hmmmm, interesting . It almost looks like a sunburn . The skin is cool and dry to the touch. I reach my hand up the bottom hem of the pants to the skin there and find it is also cool but clammy as opposed to dry. Picking up the heels once again, I drag the body into the trees, leaving a faint trail of hair, skin, and blood behind as the body scrapes against the pavement, and leave it lying inside the tree line.

The car pulls around the corner of the store and Robert parks by the Jeep. He sits behind the wheel with the window rolled down and with Michelle in the passenger seat. The light gray interior of the car and back seats are filled with assorted boxes. It is so strange to see him driving without me sitting beside him.

“We need to get whatever gas is left in the truck,” I say grabbing the gas cans and hose from the back. “You get the gas. I’m going to see if some of those keys are for the store and lock it up. We may need it again and locking it up will keep others out. At the very least, we’ll be able to tell if someone is in or has been in because they’ll have to break in,” I say holding my hands out for the keys.

Robert hands the keys through the window. He grabs the siphoning gear from the Jeep and heads over to the truck as I head over to the rear and side of the store closing the fire doors along the way. I am having a bad key day as it seems to be the last key I try works every time. Luckily though, there are keys that do work, even the front door.

Approaching the cars, I see Robert has finished and is walking my direction spitting on the ground every couple of steps. I see we still have a little ways to go on the siphoning techniques . He has managed to fill one can and part of the other before the truck ran dry.

“Time check,” I ask replacing the tanks, hose, and now almost worthless duct tape into the back end of the Jeep.

“Ten after three,” Robert tells me.

“Let’s head home then.”

On the drive home, with the fir trees passing by on both sides, soaking up the afternoon sun, and the blue Honda in my rear view mirror, I think about the events at the store. How could I have done things differently or better? Should I have just left when I thought there might be someone in there and no one answered? Should I have allowed Robert and Michelle in? How many of these things are there? What happened to everyone else? No answers readily come to mind other than using this experience for the future. I start thinking about these “things”, I can’t think of any other way to put it. My mind ponders over what I have learned from the encounters putting everything into an almost list-like compartment in my mind.