"Duck!" I yelled, tackling Maggie to the ground as Allison doubled over, her cane knocked out from underneath her. She swore and rolled next to the cart as another arrow struck the seat and bounced off the steel frame.
"Why are they shooting at us!" I yelled as a hail of miscellaneous missile merchandise fell from high.
"I..." Allison said, on the verge of sounding phased, "I don't know!"
"No worries dearies!" Maggie said, from what light I could see coming through the shelves, she used the arrowhead to start cutting at the wire bundles under the seat.
"Here we go!" She said as a spark briefly illuminated a look of genuine fear of Allison's face, "Me and the girls used to get drunk after bingo and race these, you just have to bypass the throttle limiter, and then the only thing that'll slow you down is if you don't have the balls to be bold!" She laughed like a maniac, then reached up from the throttle as a novelty snow globe slammed into the floor next to me, showing me in a spray of rubbing alcohol, strophe snow, and shattered glass.
"Hold on you pussies!" Maggie screamed as she pushed down on the throttle from the floor. The electric motors whined into action and the tires squealed as they tried to find purchase on the wet floor. Allison was starting to pick up on Maggie’s Mad plan, and she grabbed onto the basket with one hand and started deflecting missiles with her cane in the other hand.
Meanwhile, I grabbed onto Maggie for dear life as the mobility scooter found its legs and took off, dragging us along with it. I tried to climb up onto the seat, but nearly caught one last arrow for my troubles. Maggie, for all her tenacity, hadn't taken into account that with all of us dragging the scooter to the right, our escape path was severely limited.
I let go of Maggie and grabbed onto the back of the scooter as it tore out of the aisle and back into a pedestrian thoroughfare.
The scooter veered right, sending me hurdling to the left. I used the momentum to grab onto the left side of the scooter, looking forward just in time to see the support column we were bearing down on. I managed to slide my legs around the side of the scooter and reached up with my foot.
I kicked at the handles, and caused the scooter to veer left, missing the post, and sending us down yet another aisle with a horrendous squeal of cheap rubber and burning electronics.
With my legs now facing forward, the pull of the floor on my clothes was now working against the grain as it were, and my shirt was pulled up my back, leaving raw flesh to be the new medium over which I was dragged. It only took a second of exposure before I screamed, let go, and went tumbling into a display of flavored woodchips for a suspiciously cheap meat smoker.
I watched as the mobility scooter and its light disappeared down another aisle, Maggie screaming like a banshee all the way. I rolled onto my back in time to see a figure approach. I was cast into light from a number of camping lanterns that, with a second glance, looked to be creating a fake flame effect with a piece of tissue paper and small fan.
"So, who do we have here?" said a deep, condescending voice.
"Northerner from the look of him." Said another.
"I mean, I am from Wisconsin." I choked.
"Shut up! Doorman!" Another shouted as he kicked me in one of the unbroken ribs that I'd been saving for a special occasion.
"Wait..." I said, "Doorman? Northerner?"
"The North had one job, keep out the crazies." Said a tall man as he stepped forward and sneered down on me, pulling at his vest.
And stupid hat.
"Oh you've got to be kidding me." I moaned.
"East siders don't let in the crazies, do we? We can't, we've got guns, and ammo, and knives, and everything else that you have to keep safe from the crazies. But is that our job? No, because we do our job!"
"We do our Job!" came a chorus from around him.
"Doormen like you just stand around all day, let anyone into the store, any customer, doesn't matter if they're tweaking, or 'just looking', or carrying a backpack to shoplift in, just open door, policy, everyone can come in."
"Yeah," I groaned, trying to sit up, "I was under the impression that this is how stores worked."
"Well not anymore pissant!" The man said "We're doing things different once all of this is over, we're taking over the north, once we have the door, we have the store. We've got the guns, and the ammo, and the knives, and everything else that you need to survive."
"You said that already," I said "Or, well, most of it."
"Think you're so funny, do you Doorman?"
"I hope so, I'm worried I'm running out of redeeming qualities." I moaned
"Well how about we cut you to pieces and use you as bait for one of the beartraps we've got ready to catch this little beasty that y'all let in."
"I didn't think we were allowed to sell bear traps anymore."
"Sell em'?" The man said, offended, "These ain't merchandise, Barry's been building them in his garage in his spare time!"
"Hello!" came a voice from the back of the mob.
"Oh," I said, "That's kind of cool, I guess."
"Thanks," came the voice that I assumed was Barry, "It helps keep the mind off the ex."
"I'm," I struggled for the words, "Glad you found a creative outlet."
"Thanks, I hope you like them, sounds like you're going to be in a few of them here soon, let me know if they're comfortable."
As disappointed as I was at the prospect of my new future as chum, I couldn't fault him for his positive attitude.
"Can you just do me one favor?" I said, "Just take me, don't chase after the others, they're actually doing something that'll help all of us, and I don't want them to get hurt just because I messed up and let in a crazy person."
"Well, that's very magnanimous of you." The man in the stupid hat said, "I think that that's reasonable, and you know what, Doorman, I think under different circumstances, maybe we could have been allies in all this."
"I kind of doubt that. I think you might be insane."
The man in the stupid hat shrugged, "Yeah, well, a soccer mom just ate the face of our department manager, so insane is sort of a relative term."
"Hey, does your manager happen to still have his keys?" Barry asked.
"Huh? No, we needed them to get into the utility room."
The realization hit me and the mob in the same instant.
"You don't have keys, do you?" I asked.
"No..." The man in the stupid hat said.
"Which means you can't access the guns."
"Nope." Barry said.
"But if you had the keys." I continued.
"Which are in the hands of an octogenarian and the cripple..."
"You would have an arsenal." I finished
I stared up at the man in the stupid hat for a beat.
"Barry." The man said, "Beat him to death, everyone else, find the girls."
"Okay!" Barry said as everyone else fanned out, "Sorry, but hey, if it's any consolation, I'm just following orders."
"It's not," I said.
And there I was, laying on the flat of my back about to be curb stomped by a Luddite gun fanatic. Growing up in rural America, you always assume that this is a possible way to die, but I'd moved to the city partially to get away from this, and I hated that my last thought before being smeared across the linoleum is that my stupid dad was right about Chicago.
And then, Barry's head got smeared across the Linoleum. I looked up to Allison, sitting in the basket, her cane still waving through the air. She looked down at me in disgust.
"If the next words out of your mouth are a question, we're leaving you behind."
"How..." I stopped myself. "Never mind."
The muscles in my back were finally convinced to move after a short negotiation in which I promised my back muscles that we'd do some crunches for once in the near future, because they couldn't be expected to put up with such demanding projects such as 'sitting up' without the proper allocation of resources, and while I resented myself for having gone soft in the city, from a labor standpoint I had to side with my abs on this one.
I climbed onto the back of the cart while Maggie gunned the throttle, and we took off.
Even with Allison sitting in the basket and blocking the light, which had allowed them to pass through the mob quickly and quietly, we could tell that the batteries were draining fast as the light which illuminated the lower back tattoo which I only glanced at once or twice, began to fade.
"Pull over up here." Allison said, "I think we can recharge the cart for a while."
Maggie steered us into an artificial meadow that marked the transition from outdoors clothing such as hip waders and float coats, to outdoor clothing such as cargo shorts and shirts covered in American flags in blatant disregard for 4 US Code Section 8 Clause D. Between the fiberglass trees was a recessed part of the floor that held a small variety of oft-tormented trout who had come to associate the presence of people with fistfuls of loose change raining down on them like mana from a sarcastic god.
"We'll rest here for a bit." Allison said, “I think we can find most of what we'll need from the end cap displays."
"What about charging the cart?" I asked, free in the knowledge that they couldn't leave me behind, at least until the batteries were charged.
"There's a solar panel display around here that one of the guys from the food court got working so he could use a phone during his lunch breaks. He's been gone awhile, so they should be pretty well charged, even with only a few hours of charge a day.
"And if that doesn't work?"
Allison looked over at me.
"Have you ever taken an improv comedy class?" She asked.
I arched an eyebrow.
"What?"
"In the city, there are a lot of places where they teach improve, one of the games is to see how long you can go back and forth by only asking questions."
"What does that have to do with me?" I asked.
Allison blinked.
"Never mind." She said, "If we can't get the cart going, we'll just... we'll start from there and keep solving problems until we're done."
I nodded.
"Okay."
"Ha, you lost," Maggie said from across the pond.
"Did you learn anything useful about your attackers before we were able to double back and get you?" Allison said as she went to work disassembling a solar panel display while I held up a lighter Maggie had lent us for light.
"I think Barry probably pours himself too much into his hobbies, and that's what wrecked his marriage."
"So, that's a no on the useful."
"Sorry, they're the employees from the sporting goods department, they blame the northern division for letting in that lady, so they're declaring war on the north and taking over the store."
Allison kept working as she spoke.
"Well, at least their manager hasn't given him the keys."
"How'd you know?"
"They wouldn't have used bows and arrows if they had a gat, now, would they?" Maggie said from across the pond.
"So presumably the manager is holed up somewhere, that's good, if we can figure out where, we can..."
"He's dead." I said, "Got killed in the initial attack I guess."
Allison took a breath and stopped working.
"Patterson." She said, slowly, "I realize it's your first day."
I gulped.
"But surely, when I asked you if you'd learned anything useful, some of this had to have taken priority over the Barry comment."
"Fine, begrudge me some fun, you didn't just have a mob threaten to turn you into chum to lure out the She-beast."
"No dear, all she had was her cane shot out from under her by men she knew and trusted for several months who have chosen to go feral while she's trying to hold herself, this group, and the store together through sheer force of will," Maggie said as she cracked open a beer and took a seat in one of the loungers before throwing a lure into the pond, scattering the trout.
I felt like an ass and let my arms sag, then winced as I remembered I was holding a lighter and had just singed my thumb.
"I understand we're in a stressful situation." Allison said, "I won't apologize for snapping at you, that was warranted, but I'll offer that, if you do have any more information that is relevant to our survival, you can tell me, and I won't chastise you for not saying it earlier."
I nodded, then caught the reflection of the flame of the lighter on Paul's keyring, still dangling from her belt.
"Well, it's good you mention that..."
Chapter 6
With the fresh knowledge that a cult of deranged gun nuts where hunting us for sport, we opted to change our strategy of keeping the eastern wall to our flank, and opted instead to cut across the center of the store, leaving behind the narrow, towering canyons of stationary and the dense meadows of sporting goods, to try out luck on the vast prairie of apparel.
Rather than waiting for the battery to charge, we'd stripped away the heavy plastic casing that made it an "outdoor" battery, and Maggie, with her freaky knowledge of modifying mobility scooters, managed to rig the charging cable to connect to the salvaged battery pack, meaning we could move the cart while it was charging.
She'd cut a wire going up to the headlight and rigged it so we could tap the ends together if we needed the light, and otherwise we could run without it. Allison drove, Maggie hand cut away part of the basket and was charting our course, while I sat in a wheeled cooler, we'd tied to the back so I could keep an eye on our flanks.
I'd taken the map from my orientation and would try and determine where we were between scans of the horizon. I realized that unlike by the tower and stationery, I was actually able to see the map without an additional light source.
"Where is that light coming from?" I asked.
Allison looked up and scanned around as we moved silently between racks of women's jeans.
"The storm's clearing up." Allison said "We're starting to get some of the moonlight through the skylights.
"Will that be a problem while we're out here?" I asked.
Allison seemed to consider this.
"By any chance would you know if the creature has night vision?"
"How would I even know?" I spoke.
"Were her eyes different in any way that you could perceive? Larger, maybe here pupils were more dilated."
"No, nothing like that." I spoke.
"If she could move around in the dark, you'd think we'd have heard something from her, right?" Maggie added, "Like at first, we were hearing screaming, but it's been quiet since the lights went out."
With that thought, I scanned the towers again. The North tower was, by now, a faint glow in the distance, the Eastern Tower was decked in fake flames and hastily sewn war banners were being draped over the edges of the tower. To the east, I could see the cold glow of work lights emanating from what I suspected was the refrigerated goods aisle.
"Maybe the creature found a way out?" I asked.
Allison didn't immediately shoot down that thought, but it didn't seem to comfort her at all.
"Regardless, our goal is still to restore power, once we have power, we can start regaining control of the store and its systems."
I nodded and looked back to the map. I was surprised by the level of detail they'd crammed into such a small pamphlet, I felt I could follow our progress across the store just through the little illustrations that accompanied each department. I saw the canyon of stationary, the thoroughfare past sporting goods, the little meadow we'd camped out in, even now, I felt I could determine out location in this vast, otherwise featureless stretch of clothing by marking our positions relative to the taller displays of ironic t-shirts and the occasional oasis of shelves of women’s underwear.
After a series of quick glances up above the clothing displays, each of which threatened to tip the cooler I was being dragged in, I realized that we were actually a few degrees further south than I'd expected.
"Allison," I said, "Where are we going?"
"The utilities room, Patterson."
I frowned, "I think you know what I'm really asking, Allison."
I looked down at the map just to confirm my suspicion. Each department was labeled and illustrated in exquisite detail, except for one, which loomed in the center of the map, covered by what I could only explain as a fog of war.
"Allison," I insisted. "We're heading straight towards Seasonal."
"Seasonal?" Maggie said, for the first time sounding concerned, "Allison, he can't be right."
"It is not my plan to pass *through* seasonal," She said, "However, it does mark the true center of the store, and while everything within is in a state of constant flux, the southern end of seasonal cuts straight through furniture, and there is a thoroughfare that terminates at the southern wall, not too far from the utilities access."
"I thought we were avoiding major roads," I said.
"We were, back when our main concern was that we were being hunted by the creature, now we know we're being hunted by hunters, who will likely assume that we are trying to maintain our cover, and since, thanks to you, they know we're heading for the utilities closet, they'll likely be setting up ambushes all along the sheltered routes.
"So your plan?" I asked.
"Take this cart, get past seasonal, and open up the throttle so we make it there before they do."
"Seems risky," Maggie said.
Allison slowed the cart, and we came to a stop.
"What," I said, "What's wrong."
"Body." Allison said, taking her cane and standing up, she peaked over the tops of the clothing racks before standing to her full height, which wasn't much taller than the racks.
"Oh dear." Maggie said, crossing herself.
"He's wearing a work vest." I spoke.
Allison half crouched by the body and put her hand on his shoulder, then rolled his head slightly.
"Did you know him?" Maggie said.
"As well as anyone outside my department." Allison said, coldly. She rolled the body onto his back.
"Bullet holes." She said, "Killed by store security, not the creature."
She touched the vest and seemed concerned.
"What is it?" I spoke.
Allison breathed.
"A person is dead, Patterson, I'm paying my respects."
"Like heck you are." I said, "You're looking for something."
Maggie seemed stunned, Allison, nearly, almost, imperceptibly, smirked.
"Fine." She said, "Look at the uniform."
It was hard to, considering the blood staining parts of it and the man, dead only an hour, still wearing it.
"What am I looking at?"
"The vest is still neatly pressed, recently clean, no pins, no buttons, nothing to personalize or differentiate it from anyone else's. She looked around.
"We're in a relatively open part of the store, and there's little to obstruct line of sight to the cameras." She said, "Now look at where he's shot."
There were about three stains on the vest, none on the legs, and the head was, mercifully, spared any damage.
"Children, this is getting very grim."
"But don't you see." Allison said, "Where he was shot?"
"He..." I said, "He was shot in the chest."
"Indeed." Allison said.
I sat, waiting for the point, when Maggie made a sound halfway between a choke and a yelp.
"Flashlights!" She spoke.
Allison and I stood back up to full height, behind us, multiple beams of light were moving steadily through the clothing section, a wide net, more than sufficient to catch us in its snare.
"Oh cuss," I said.
"Shit." Allison swore as she finagled her way back into the driver seat.
"Language, you two!" Maggie said as she climbed back into the basket at the front of the wagon.
"But I didn't..."
"Maggie, lights." Allison interrupted.
Maggie pulled the light from its mounting and held it in front of her, then took the two wires, bent them in a 'J' shape, and hooked them together. With a spark, the headlights came on as the electric motor wired to life.
"Patterson, navigate us to Seasonal, Maggie, call out obstacles."
The Scooter lurched forward, and I nearly fell from the cooler, but I hunkered down and withdrew the map. I found the last point I could confidently say we'd been at and started calling out.
"Left turn, thirty degrees, at the swimwear stand!"
Maggie called out.
"Right to avoid polo shirts!"
The scooter made a sickening lurch to the right, then a hard turn to the left to adjust. I had to lean the cooler to either side to keep up with the turns and avoid getting spilled.
Our headlight had at once given away our position, as had the sound of our diaries seriously distressing the cheap carpet as we'd taken off, and the sounds of shouting and the occasional arrow began falling down around us.
"They're getting closer!" I called out.
"Patterson! Get us too seasonal!" Allison cried out again as the scooter made another sickening turn away from our path. At this point, I was hopelessly turned around, with displays passing by too quickly and too close in the dark to get a good reading.
"Oh, fudge it." I spoke. Climbing out of the cooler, and onto the back of the seat.
"What are you doing?" Allison cried.
"Getting us too Seasonal!" I stood up on the seat, carefully keeping my balance by holding onto Allison's shoulder, and pushing the thought that my hand was on her bra strap out of my head.
"There!" I shouted, pointing with my free hand towards a garish display of beers stacked in a way to create an American flag.
"Hard to the right!" I shouted. The scooter lurched to the right, and we were barreling towards the displays.
Arrows started to strike the wall of beer ahead of us, causing cans to rupture and fire pressurized streams of beer onto the linoleum.
I looked back at the rows of men running between the racks of clothes, they're flashlights, or more often than not, headlamps, revealing their line of sight. Every now and then, a light would engulf us, and another shot would sail past, narrowly missing the cart.
The spotlights continued to search for fur as the cart raced between displays, barreling towards seasonal.
Suddenly, I was bathed in warm light, it was closed, and I took a deep breath in preparation for the bolt.
And then, it was dark again. The light had briefly turned to the side, and then fled up into the air, before dropping back to the ground.
I scanned behind us as, one by one, lights that were focused on us, began frantically scanning the area between the racks.
Looking off to the right, I could see a man take aim with a bow, just to disappear in a streak of white tank top and gore.
"It's her!" I cried "It's her! It's here!"
from my position just above the clothesline, I could see the attack unfolding, men would run, take aim, only to disappear from sight in a haze of blood.
Suddenly, I felt a strange heat across my back, and I nearly fell forward onto Allison.
"What are you doing?" She screamed.
I let out a slight gasp, it was suddenly harder to breathe. I looked up at the displays ahead of us.
"We're gonna make it." I gasped, "Think we're actually going to make it."
Allison reached up and touched something that'd started pooling on her shoulder where my hand was still holding onto her for dear life.
"Patterson!" She said, "You're bleeding!"
"That's fine, I'll just get it back later." I slurred. My eyes were fixed on the American flag of beer.
With one more turn, the scooter was now on a direct heading towards the ring road that encircled seasonal. The smell of cheap beer was strong in the air.
The creature continued leaping across the aisles as more and more screams surrounded us. For a moment, I almost felt grateful to the monster.
And then, she was standing right in front of us, drenched in blood, jaw hanging uncomfortably low, screeching at the top of her lungs and blood dripped from the ends of her fingers.
"Right!" I screamed,
"Left!" Maggie cried.
Allison took her cane and jammed it against the throttle.
"Jump!" she yelled.
Maggie dove first, rolling off to the left and into the darkness. Allison stood up and left to the right, and since she was the source of my stability, in the sense that I was holding onto her, I fell right off the back, bounced off the cooler, and hit my head on something more stubborn than my consciousness. That's when I blacked out.
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