“Ah shit. What was it, two cars?” Dave said.
“That’s what I saw.” I knew he itched to destroy whomever was inside those vehicles. We never saw who shot and killed Dave’s brother, Josh. It had to have been groups of ruthless people just like this: Thugs who terrorized people instead of coming together to fight against a common enemy. In this case, the zombies of a fucked up apocalypse. “Look, we have no idea how many people are inside those cars. Figure eight total, worst case. Behind the checkout counter, do you see that door? Has to lead to the back storeroom. There must be an exit back there. Stay low, stay close, and follow me.”
“We’re running?” Dave said.
I knelt, like a sprinter ready to run. “Ah, yeah, Dave. I have a fucking sword. A sword. Perfect for fighting slow zombies, but these guys have guns.”
Andy pumped his twelve gauge. “I have this and a pocket full of shells. We can pepper the shit out of them.”
I wasn’t looking for an inventory. I’d been trying to make a point.
Dave smiled. “I have my guns, too.”
“Full clips?” I gave in.
“One,” he said. He flipped the other gun over in his hand. “And half.”
I closed my eyes for just a second, lowered my head. Where the fuck was the bus?
I removed my machete. “When you’re out of ammo, we’re chopping the bastards up. Got it?”
“Hey! Hello?”
Dave, Andy and I stared at each other. I put a finger to my lips, and silently (and needlessly), shushed them.
More glass fell. It sounded like it had been kicked in; clearing shards that dangled in the door’s frame. Boots crunched on pieces of glass. My nose wrinkled. A foul stench filled the store. Sweat, urine and feces.
Watching shadows on the wall was all we had. I counted three. I didn’t dare sneak a peek. I knew if I looked, my head would get blown away. Wasn’t the way I was going to die. I hadn’t made it this far to be shot.
I pointed to the opposite end of the aisle. Dave and Andy nodded. I crawled toward my end, the one closest to the front entrance, where the men with guns were.
There was no plan. There had been no time to make one.
“We hear you. We saw you in here. Just give it a rest, okay? Give it a rest and stand up. No reason to draw this out.”
“We don’t have anything you’d want,” I said. “We just stopped to use the bathrooms.”
“You have that bus. We’d want that.”
“You see a bus out there?” Dave gave away his position. Why the fuck did he talk? Didn’t he trust me to handle this? After all of this time together, he should know better than to open his mouth. What was the purpose of us splitting up, if he was just going to blow it right away? We get out of this, I’m going to ask him, because I sincerely wanted an answer.
“No way have they just left you. They’ll be back.”
The guy might as well have said, “Abracadabra.”
I heard the bus return. It must have turned around on the main road, picked up some speed and was now gunning it through the parking lot.
I risked it. I stood. I had been right to. No one was looking at us. The three guys in the store were turned around and watching the bus cow-scooper-obscured headlights barreling down on the store.
“Dave!” I said.
I didn’t know where was going to be safe.
Dave stood. He must have seen the bus, but it didn’t detract him. He fired off three rounds. His bullets struck two of the men. I couldn’t tell if they’d been killed, but they sure as shit went down.
The third guy spun around just as the plow on the bus smashed into the side of one of the two cars. Metal crushed and creaked as the windshield popped, and shattered and rained pellets all over the parking lot. The plow drove the first car into the second.
I heard screams. People had been inside those cars.
If they weren’t dead, they had to be trapped with injuries. I couldn’t imagine anyone climbing out of either car without at least a concussion.
Dave fired off shots at the third guy, the one who ran from the store.
I didn’t know the status of the other two. Dave knew enough not to assume shit. He was on his side of the aisle, I was on mine. We both took cautious steps toward the front of the store where the two men went down.
“Guys,” Andy said from behind us, still standing by the bathroom door.
I held up a hand. “Stay.”
It wasn’t my intent to treat him like a dog, but if he didn’t know enough to shut up and just be still, I had no issue reminding him.
The bus backed up, the double doors swooshed open.
“Close those!” I said.
Gene, Michelle and Megan stepped off the bus with a rifles in their hands. They looked bad ass, I’d give them that. I remembered when we’d first met on the street by the high school. Getting off a crashed plane and seeing these guys with their guns was very intimidating. Right now, it would be best if they stayed out of it.
“Get back on the bus!” I said, and pointed with the tip of my sword blade. Michelle and Megan moved to the front of the bus, where the cars they’d smashed would be.
The side of Gene’s head exploded; brain and skull and hair bits sprayed onto the ajar bus door.
“Son of a bitch,” I said.
Dave reached the end of the aisles first and stepped around the corner fast. He positioned himself quickly into a firing stance with his feet shoulder length apart, both hands on the grip and let off three rounds. Looked like two went into one guy, the third into the guy a little further away.
I rounded the corner. If the two guys he’d shot hadn’t died immediately, they were certainly dead now.
Melissa came off the bus screaming. Couldn’t Kia or even Charlene have restrained her? “Get back on the bus! Close the doors!”
She didn’t listen to me. She dropped to her knees beside to her dead husband.
“Andy,” I said. “Get up here!”
Holding his twelve gauge and the machete I gave to Dave, he stared at me with his mouth closed tight and tears streaming down his face. “Get on the bus. Keep everyone inside. Watch out for that other guy. Here, here, give me the machete.”
I didn’t know where the third guy was, the one that killed Gene. And I couldn’t see Michelle or Megan.
Andy held the shotgun up as he backed against the threshold, and did a quick peek around the building. “He’s over by the cars, checking on the others stuck inside.”
“Be careful,” I said.
Dave walked up to me. I tossed him the machete. “Don’t just leave it lying around, okay?”
“Sorry about that,” he said. He looked at Gene and Melissa, and back at me shaking his head. “What the fuck, man.”
Andy moved. I wasn’t ready. He was faster than I’d expected. He scooped up Melissa and carried her onto the bus. The doors closed. She didn’t make a sound. I don’t think she even knew what was happening until Andy already had her safely off the pavement.
There was more gunfire. Handguns. “Michelle? Megan?” I said.
Dave crouched, crossed from the store to the bus, and flattened his back against it. He waved me over. “I don’t see them.”
I heard a rifle shot. They were fighting.
The bus’ headlights shone on the wrecked cars. I couldn’t tell if anyone was inside either of them. “Michelle! Megan!”
Nothing.
Dave and I moved to the cow-scoop on the front of the bus. I looked around the pointed edge. Both women were standing, and firing.
I couldn’t make out their target. “Get back on the bus.”
Megan faced me. “There are three of them. They climbed out of the cars. They’re just over there.”
“I don’t care,” I said. “Let’s go. Come on, come on!”