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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