This Would Be Paradise (Book 1) (12 page)

Ethan chuckled. “Well if you really want to injure someone, go for a throat punch next time.”

“Will do. You find what you were looking for?”

He held up the rubber tubing, and it wriggled like a trapped snake. “Not quite, but hopefully it’ll do.”

Ethan moved the truck closer to the manhole so that it was easier to pack the full gas cans. John had found a couple of empty jerry cans when they were inside, and we had brought a few as well. I didn’t want to be the one who had to suction the gas out but Taylor said he’d do it; you wouldn’t find me objecting. He sucked profusely and sputtered when the gas started to flow, quickly shoving the tube into the empty jerry can. He spat a few times on the ground and swished his water around in his mouth.

“Wow you’re an expert at that,” I taunted, and the look he gave me made me grin even wider.

Ethan burst out laughing and even John coughed to cover up his snort of laughter. I felt like I had gotten my revenge, albeit petty revenge, but whatever. After a few seconds, the gas stopped flowing and we all peered down at it, as if by miracle our staring would make it run again.

“I didn’t think this would work,” John sighed as he took off his hat and ran his hand over his head. For someone his age, he had a pretty good set of hair.

“The tank needs to be higher for this to work properly,” Taylor pointed out.

“I’ll do another look around for somethin’ with a hand pump.” At that, John jogged back to the garage for something more useful.

The three of us just stood around, not saying a word. Taylor and I traded some more squinty eyed looks, while Ethan tried not to notice the tense atmosphere. I was about to say something about his rusty sucking skills when John emerged from the garage, this time with a device that looked like the bicycle tire pump we had back home; just with two hoses instead of one.

“This should work much better. Must’ve missed it the first time around,” John announced as he placed one of the hose ends in the jerry can and the other hose running from the pump into the underground tank.

The handle of the red pump was on the top and reminded me of the detonators in the Looney Tunes cartoons. After thirty seconds of using the pump, the gas started to flow again much to our relief.

In the end we had half a dozen canisters full of gas which had better last us a while. Taylor reclosed the tank just in case we needed to come back for more gas in the future. There was still a good amount left; we just had to hope that no one else found our treasure trove of gas. John mentioned that gas does go stale, but desperate times meant we had no choice but to try it. We made sure the hand pump was placed securely inside the truck so we didn’t lose it.

After putting the cans into the back, we reconvened in the truck. Taylor and I refused to acknowledge one another as we shared the back seat. We were walking distance from the Walmart and the area between only had a few infected roaming. The rest seemed to have disappeared for the moment which was a relief and worrying at the same time.

The massive parking lot was abandoned except for a few cars neatly parked in a spot, a handful of tipped over carts and a manageable amount of infected. I’d say the place looked to be in pretty good shape, but I suppose looks can be deceiving. Ethan pulled up to the front door and killed the engine. We scoped out the place before we got out of the truck. There were three infected using the parking lot like their own personal walking track, but as soon as we had pulled up they started toward the noise.

I unloaded my magazine to see how many bullets I had left; I counted seven. We clambered out of the truck to confront the three, but John shot them in a quick succession before we had the chance to lift our weapons up. Luckily he was still using his silencer; he wouldn’t risk shooting out here without one.

“How long were you in the military?” Ethan asked, as he placed his put his pistol away.

“Fifteen years,” John answered. “I’ve been stationed all over the world with my platoon.”

“Got any ‘Nam stories?” Ethan asked.

John chuckled, “I ain’t that old, son. That war ended the same year I turned old enough to enlist. But I got many other stories.”

Oh joy, back-in-my-day stories. 

I walked up to the front doors and peeked inside. Since the power had been out for quite some time, it was no surprise that the doors didn’t part for me as I approached. The light from outside barely broke into the cart lobby, and I had to wipe away some of the dirt caked onto the glass doors just to see inside better. From what I could gather, there were no infected nearby, and the second set of automatic doors were wide open unlike the set I was currently peering through.

“Come on and help me pry these apart,” I said, wishing they weren’t dead bolted.

I stuck my fingers into the little slot where the doors met, and with Ethan grabbing the other side, we heaved. Slowly the doors parted for us as, squealing at the sudden use after being neglected for so long. If the doors weren’t locked, that meant anything could be in here. We gave the parking lot one last look to make sure it was devoid of infected and with our bags in hand, we reclosed the glass sliding doors behind us.

Once inside, we flipped the dead bolts, which only required a key to get in, not to lock up from the inside. Then we did the same for the second set of doors.

“Should we be locking ourselves in without checking the place out first?” I asked.

“Even if somethin’ is in here, it would be even worse if anythin’ outside got in, too,” John pointed out. “At least we know the front is secured.”

“For all we know, the back door could be wide open,” Ethan mentioned.

“Good point,” John said as he took his gun from its holster. “Let’s check the perimeter first. Bailey and Ethan, you check the emergency exits and doors around the floor. Taylor and I’ll check the back.”

“Splitting us up? That’s horror movie talk,” I said nervously.

“We need to get this place locked down as soon as possible,” John insisted. “Which means we need to cover as much ground as possible, fast.”

We all rummaged around in our bags for our flashlights and clicked them on. The sunlight coming through the front doors only shone so far. I pointed my beam all around to see if I could spot anything, but the immediate area seemed to be clear of infected. The smell of rotting food hung in the stale air, but if you breathed through your mouth, it wasn’t so bad. The grocery section took up the left side of the store while the non-food items took up the rest of the supermarket.

The store didn’t seem to be in as bad of shape as I thought it would. There were carts here and there and some of the shelves were picked over, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for this store. John and Taylor took off down the middle aisle toward the back, while Ethan and I decided to start along the left wall and make our way around.

I made sure I was breathing through my mouth as the stench of rotten food got stronger. The produce section had created its own compost heap so we pretty much ran past that part. The first door we spotted was the one that lead to the back room.  John and Taylor had that section, which apparently ran around the whole building in a U-shape. I pointed my flashlight along the wall while Ethan pointed his ahead.

“Ethan,” I whispered as I spotted the first emergency exit door.

It was closed; I could only see the light from outside trying to peek through the bottom. Ethan wiggled the bar handle to make sure it wouldn’t swing open easily. Once we were satisfied that it wouldn’t open from the outside, we continued on. At the careful pace we were going, it took us just under an hour to check the perimeter. We had made it all the way back to the entrance part, which only left the washrooms and the janitor’s closet.

We rounded the corner of the women’s washroom. Ethan stepped in first to make sure nothing was hiding in the darken space. The sound of the creaking hinges rang out in the small space as Ethan pushed open all the doors one by one. I heard footsteps behind me and whirled around to see the half eaten face of a former employee. His blue vest was ripped and stained dark red. His decayed skin had taken on the same colors as his dirty vest. With a growl he launched himself at me, knocking both of us to the floor.

I focused all my energy on keeping his discolored teeth away from me. The thing was relentless with his snarling and snapping. I turned my head to avoid the dribbling blood and saliva that the thing was spraying with every attempt to bite into me. I was about to yell for help when the body was ripped from me and flung across the floor, its arms flailing. Before the infected could get back up, Ethan stomped down hard on its head. The decayed skull gave way fairly easily to the pressure of his foot and soon a pulpy mess covered the white floor and walls.

“You okay?” Ethan ran back over to me and heaved me up.

I gave myself a once over and nodded, “Yeah, I managed to keep him from biting me.”

I was shaking slightly from the adrenaline and fear. For a second I thought I might throw up. The nasty, rotting smell didn’t help with that either.

“You gonna be okay to keep goin’?” Ethan asked, seeing that I was slightly shaken.

“I’ll be fine,” I said curtly and he let it go.

I pulled out a handful of paper towels and wiped myself down, trying to dislodge the mess the infected had sprayed me with. When I was done, we stepped over the mess and checked the rest of the front area. So far, the peeping Tom infected was the only thing we had run into.

“Should we go look for them?” I asked. “They’re taking a long time.”

“Let’s head down the middle aisles on the way then.”

As we passed by more empty lanes on our way to the back of the store, growling became the first sign that we were not alone in the center. I shone my flashlight in the direction of the sound and once it landed on the infected, I realized that had not been a good idea. The infected’s attention was now honed in on us and we took a few steps back. Ethan whipped out his machete as the thing started toward us.

“Down here,” I said, pointing my light to one of the home accent aisles.

Ethan nodded and we bolted toward the land of bathroom mats. The infected chased after us but I suppose it couldn’t see too well; it ran straight into the massive display of frying pans that was plunked down in the main throughway. The display was knocked over and the crashing noise was so loud that I cringed. That would surely attract anything that was lurking in here.

“Shit!” I heard Ethan hiss behind me.

The flashlight bounced all around in front of me as we ran, making it hard to keep a steady eye on anything.

“Turn back!” I yelled at Ethan, stopping dead in my tracks.

A handful of infected had managed to cut us off. Their mangled bodies created a blockade at the end of the aisle. Ethan yanked me back toward the way we had come with the six on our trail forcing us to keep moving. The first infected that had caused the noise was still trying to get itself untangled from the display, making more noise in the process. As we ran past its reaching hands, Ethan brought down his machete on the things head. One swing was all it took and it stopped moving. Ripping the weapon from the things skull, Ethan and I ran even faster away from the approaching crowd.

It seemed like we had garnered the attention of every infected that was in here. Somehow we had not run into them during our perimeter check; they must have been hiding in the center aisles.

“Maybe we can try to lose ‘em.” Ethan grabbed my hand and pulled me toward another aisle.

We weaved through all the aisles, trying to shake the ones following us. I hoped this worked as well as it did in the truck. Finally, we had made it to the back of the store, but I could still hear the mass of infected approaching somewhere in the aisles near us. They hadn’t wandered off like I hoped they had. Having been trapped in here, they probably haven’t come across fresh meat in a while and the thought made me grimace. The shuffling and groaning was getting louder by the second.

I looked over at Ethan, who had the exact same look of desperation plastered on his face as I did. Our eyes darted back and forth until we simultaneously spotted the set of scuffed plastic swinging doors that lead to the back room. Neither of us had to say anything as we bolted straight for them.

We crashed through the doors like a couple of battering rams. I felt Ethan’s hand grab my arm, and then he yanked me to the left, just as I started to contemplate which direction we should go. The narrow back room was lined with jam-packed shelves as high as the warehouse ceiling with pallets of product sticking out dangerously, making the aisle difficult to run in. I heard the sound of the plastic doors swinging open again as the mini-horde pursued us.

“Get behind me!” a familiar Southern accent rang out.

We spotted John and his worn cowboy hat just around the west corner. Once we were clear of his line of fire, he raised his gun to eye level, as the infected approached in a crowded mass; some fell to the others insistent shoving and some to the littered alleyway. Muffled shots came from John’s raised weapon, and soon a blockade of dead infected clogged the passage.

“Did you alert every one of those things in the store?” John asked us as he reloaded his gun.

“They were hidin’ in the aisles,” Ethan said indignantly.

“Where’s Taylor?” I asked, noticing it was just John.

“Unloadin’ some of the pallets we found. Come on, I’ll show you.”

We followed him around to the other side of the backroom. Taylor was slicing up one of the shrink-wrapped skids of product with a box cutter.

“Found a whole bunch of protein bars,” Taylor beamed at his find. “Should last us a good while too.”

“Now that we made sure the back is clear, we should move the truck ‘round back to load this stuff in,” John suggested.

“Well, I’m sure as hell not lugging it all out the front door,” I said as I eyed our year supply of protein bars.

Ethan and I headed back into the main part of the store, a lot more alert this time. We stuck close to the outer walls just in case there were more lurking inside the aisles. Luckily, we made it all the way back out and to the truck with no more infected, but I’m sure there were some left inside. We would just have to stay on our toes.

The massive steel loading door squealed as John and Taylor tried to open it up. There was a manual pulley system as a backup that required two people to tug on the rusted silver chains just to lift it a little. Ethan backed the truck right up against the loading dock, which was about three feet higher than the bed of the pickup. Together we tossed the protein bar cases in the back in a matter of minutes.

“We also found a flat of water and some dried goods we can use,” Taylor huffed as he lifted the wooden pallet outside and out of the way.

We kept a wary eye on the back lot just in case some roaming infected decided to stop by. There was only one out there that we could see, so Ethan jumped from the dock and took the thing out with his machete, leaving a nasty stain on the tarmac. He grimaced at the mess that now coated his weapon and he flung it to the side to dislodge the decaying matter.

“Now, should we just load up what we can find back here or look around?” John asked.

“We’re here, we might as well grab all that we can,” I shrugged.

I desperately needed new clothes and hygiene products. You would be surprised how rough living out in the sticks and washing on a scrub board, like a housewife from the 1800s, can be on your clothes. Plus, we needed deodorant, and trust me that was a necessity, not a luxury. John glanced down at his watch.

“We don’t have many daylight hours left. Maybe we should make camp here?”

A supermarket and now a hotel chain? Walmart really did have everything. Ethan looked around nervously. “This was supposed to only be a day trip. I don’t want the others to be worried.”

“I’d rather spend the night sheltered than chance drivin’ ‘round in the dark. There aren’t streetlights anymore,” John reasoned.

He had a point. If anything happened while we tried to get back in the dark, we would be even more screwed than normal.

“Looks like I’m outnumbered,” Ethan sighed and I looked away guiltily.

Normally I would take his side, but not this time.

“All right then, let’s finish loadin’ what we can back here.”

Between the four of us we managed to completely fill the truck bed with food products. Looks like any extra supplies would be crammed with us in the seats. John released the roll-up door while Taylor and Ethan stood underneath to gently place it on the ground. The last thing we needed was a big crash to alert more infected to our whereabouts.

“Everyone got an idea of what they want?” John asked just before we pushed open the swinging doors.

We all nodded.

“There can’t be that many more of them in here,” Ethan said, pointing to the mass of bodies that piled up where John shot them. “So do you each want to take a section?”

I tried not to let my concern show on my face, but I was not happy with being sent on my own. We walked out onto the main floor, no infected or even a sound greeted us.

“All right, Ethan and I will split up the grocery section. Taylor, you take campin’ supplies, and Bailey you take the pharmacy area. Grab what you can and bring it back here so we can load it all up at once.”

As we were about to take off, Ethan stopped me and whispered quietly. “If you get into trouble, just holler, and I’ll be right there.”

I was going to point out that the food and pharmacy sections were on opposite sides of the store but instead just nodded. Then I took a deep breath through my nose and clicked on my flashlight again, starting towards my designated section. All I could hear was the blood pumping in my ears and the sound of my feet quietly hitting the cold floor. I stuck with the main aisles to get to the other side. This way, I had a larger view path so it would be harder for anything to sneak up on me. I calmed my breathing, making it easier to listen for the sounds of infected. Looking to my right and left rapidly was starting to make me dizzy, so I opted for just looking straight ahead. I shone my light onto the wall and saw the giant red pharmacy sign like a lighthouse beacon.

I realized I had not brought anything to carry all the supplies in other than the backpack currently resting on my back.
Shit
. I walked up and down the aisles and spotted an abandoned cart. I placed my flashlight down and holstered my gun so I could take the items out. Looks like someone had grabbed all the toys they could but never made it to the register with them. I shoved the boxes onto the empty spots on the shelf closest to me. I had a bad habit of doing that even before the outbreak.

My head whipped around at the sound of something hitting the floor a few aisles over. I held my breath and started toward the noise, one of the toys still in my hand. As I gingerly rounded the corner, I spotted the light purple liquid that now coated the floor. The smell of chemicals and lilac perfume hung in the air. A bottle of shampoo must have fallen over but what could have done that? I squinted further into the dimly lit aisle, but no one was there. The skylights didn’t provide much light down here.

I went rigid at the gurgling sound one aisle over. I swallowed and tiptoed to the front of the aisle. There was an infected about halfway down the aisle. It was once a teenage boy, his body now ravaged by the disease. His clothes were in shreds, and he was missing a few fingers; it almost looked like they had been gnawed off. His head was whipping around stiffly, and if I wasn’t mistaken, it looked like he was sniffing the air. All I could smell was the cheap perfume of the spilled shampoo. Maybe that obscured my smell, and that’s why he wasn’t charging at me.

Well if I was going to do something about him, it would be better if it was on my own terms. I brought my arm back and threw the toy with as much power as I could muster while hurling the awkward shaped box. It hit the infected square in the back, and he turned around at the impact. The infected looked down at the toy as it hit the floor, confusion showing in its jerky body movements. I couldn’t believe what I was about to do.

I ran as fast as I could toward the infected, slipping my hunting knife from its holster on my belt. Before it could even register that something was moving in front of it, I sunk my blade into the part where the head met the neck at a slight upward angle.

I had to grab the thing’s shoulder to gain leverage, and when the blade hit home, the infected tumbled backwards taking me with it. I rolled to the side instinctively to avoid landing on it, then turned right back toward it. The infected was laying still, the blade protruding from its neck. I counted to ten before investigating. I got up and kicked it with my foot and when it didn’t react, I grabbed the knife back. It slipped out of the creature’s neck easily, leaving an open wound behind. The rotten smell now coated my knife, so I used the infected’s destroyed shirt to clean off the blade. Not that he’d mind.

I stared at the unmoving infected. I hadn’t realized my heart was pounding and I had to hunch over to catch my breath. The adrenaline was starting to dissipate, leaving me a bit shaky. I hadn’t even taken the time to think my plan through. All the images of what could have gone wrong played through my head, mocking my impulsive choice. I was lucky it has worked out this time, but would it again? Slowly I walked back to my flashlight and cart, the smell of decay and lilacs mingling in the air.

A feeling akin to triumph, like when I used to play soccer as a kid and scored, bloomed within me. I found this confusing. On one hand I should be upset, but on the other it was either me or the infected and like any other human, I choose myself. I looked down at the blade in my hand and scowled, as I put the knife away.

I grabbed what I felt we needed, dropping a few items in the process thanks to my shaky hands, but soon my cart was almost over flowing. We really should have brought another vehicle. Not that John’s little car would hold much more. The cart wheels squeaked for a few meters until I got a steady pace going as I pushed it to the back. The rush of taking out the infected had finally worn off, and my hands were steady once again. For a second I pretended I was back home doing some shopping, mentally trying to tally up the bill in my head and failing.

“Geez, you got enough stuff?” Taylor asked as I approached him.

He had some small propane cylinders and other various camping supplies lying by his feet. He must have made quite a few trips. There was a camo painted hunting rifle leaning against a bunched up sleeping bag.

“Walmart sells guns?” I asked, incredulous.

Taylor raised a brow, “They don’t have guns in the stores where you live?”

“Nope,” I shook my head. “Canadian, remember?”

“Well, it was pretty much picked clean anyways. Only got this one and a few random sized bullets.”

“Do you know if the others are done?” I asked.

“Pop is. He’s stackin’ stuff by the back door. Dunno about Ethan though.”

“All right, let John know I’m done and I’ll go grab Ethan.”

I left my cart in the care of Taylor and went off in search of Ethan. I found him in the granola bar aisle tossing boxes into his cart.

“What do you think of those bars with fruit jam in the middle?” he asked, hearing me approach.

“That they were invented by people who knew nothing about children.”

He placed the box back on the shelf. I almost squealed like a fangirl when I spotted the blue box and shoved all three into his cart. Ethan raised an eyebrow at me in question.

“Frosted strawberry Pop Tarts,” I grinned at the find. “I love those.”

“Well, we do have a toaster back at the cabin.”

“Hell, toaster or not, I’m eating them.”

“Everythin’ go okay in the pharmacy?”

I hesitated and Ethan stared me down.

“What happened?”

“There was an infected, but I took him out.” I shrugged, playing it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

Ethan’s mouth formed a mulish line. “I told you to call out of you ran into anythin’.”

“What was I supposed to do? Run around the aisle like a hysterical woman until the big strong man came to save me?” I glared in response.

We stayed like that for a few seconds before Ethan cracked a grin and laughed.

“It’s not that funny,” I muttered.

“Sorry, I just got this image of you runnin’ around in old fashion dress yelling ‘Lord save me!,’” Ethan said through his laughter.

“That would mean I’ve officially lost it,” I grinned at the image he painted.

“You two done tellin’ jokes?” John asked as he rounded the corner.

With John prodding us along, we managed to grab what we wanted and brought it to the back. I looked at our haul; it was like a giant mound at the garbage dump minus the smell of course. I felt like I was in an episode of Hoarders.

“Look, I’m no engineer, but how is all that supposed to fit into the truck?” I asked skeptically.

John took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, “Dunno, but it’s gonna be mighty squished in there. Maybe we can grab another vehicle nearby.”

“There were a few in the parkin’ lot,” Ethan suggested.

“Do you know how to hotwire one?” I asked John and he smirked at that.

“I may have had the need to a few times in my life, but chances are the cars out there are alarmed so we can’t afford to have ‘em go off, even for a moment.”

“Maybe the keys are still in here?” I offered, and the three looked at me strange. “I mean the cars probably belong to the employees we found in here. We could search the employee lounge and their pockets.”