Un-Dead World Book One: Dead Men's Game

Chapter Four: Grocery list

    The three of us had been driving for around fifteen minutes, when I recognized the white building that was the grocery store where Carson worked. 

    "Pull in here!" I shouted, causing Branson to swerve slightly. Without question he pulled left into the parking lot. "Go around the right side of the building to the back. There's an employee door that has a code lock." I had brought Carson lunch often, so after a while he had shared his managers code with me so I could just go straight to his office. 

    "Smart." Scott remarked. "We're gonna need supplies and it looks like everyone is too panicked to come looting yet." I hadn't even thought of that. It was the most logical first stop, if what Branson was saying was true. With everything I had seen in the last couple hours, it definitely seemed like it was. I felt like I was still in a daze and I couldn't believe how useless I had been. It was time to start thinking like someone who wanted to survive.

    "It won't be long before this place is swarming with people. We get in, get enough supplies for a week, and we get the hell out. Understood?" Branson was obviously equipped to give orders, so I wasn't about to question anything else he said. 

    "Affirmative, Sir." Scott barked out his response to quickly and casually, it couldn't have been the first time he had taken orders. I didn't think it was the first time Branson had given the orders either. They weren't in military fatigues, but the camouflage of Scott's jacket was that of the army. Former military maybe?  

    We reached the back of the building and Branson put the shifter into park. He turned to look at me with a serious expression. 

    "Keep your eyes and ears open. Make sure to always be aware of where we are so if you hear any other sounds, you can react in time. Seeing how you handled that firearm, I'm sure you can handle yourself and I'm counting on that." He handed me my gun, which had apparently fallen at some point during the chaos. "We can't take any more stupid risks. We lost Pete saving you. You better not die on our first mission." 

    "I aint risking myself for you again, chick. So you better listen to sarge. He knows what he's doing." Scott chimed in.

    "Only get non-perishable food, easy to carry. We'll find a first aid kit for you." He looked between Scott and I. " Gallons of water only, no bottles. They take up too much space. Scott will find us an arsenal. Can you handle that?" Branson said this all very fast.

    "Yeah. I can do this." I replied as Scott nodded his head.

    "Affirmative, Sir." 

     I was not entirely confident about this mission, but I wasn't going to be caught by surprise again. My shoulder was screaming at me as well as my leg, but I wasn't going to let these two go in alone when I could help. We all scanned the area around us, making sure it was clear before we got out. It was starting to get dark rapidly and I wondered how long I had been unconscious before waking up in that alley. 

    We exited the truck at the same time, almost like it was rehearsed. I stuck close to Branson as we circled the truck towards the employee door.

    "I assume you know the code, since you knew it was here." This came from Scott.    

    "My boyfriend works here. Worked..here." I paused for a split second before walking forward and putting in the code to open the door. Honestly, I don't understand how they didn't get robbed. The password was 123. Branson snorted as he saw the code.

    "How did this place not get robbed?" He asked. This made me smile to myself as he was voicing my thoughts. 

    I pushed the door open and as soon as I stepped inside I froze. I don't know what made me freeze but my gut was telling me to turn around and run. Pushing past that feeling, I stepped inside to allow the other two to enter and close the door. Branson looked at me strangely for a moment, likely wondering what my hesitation had been about but he didn't ask. We looked around at the ceiling high shelves filled with boxes of merchandise. The backup lights had kicked on, bathing the off white walls with an orangished glow. It just made it all the more eerie. I had never been in a grocery store that wasn't filled with people and the silence was enough to make your hairs stand at attention.  

As we began to rummage through boxes, looking for supplies, that strange feeling in my stomach intensified. I dropped the bags of chips I was holding in my hand and turned to examine my surroundings and find the source of this foreboding feeling. I felt myself being pulled towards the office that was once Carson's. It was as if there was an invisible tether leading me there. As I neared the door, I heard something. I instantly began to creep forward on the balls of my feet, slowly so I didn't make any noise. There was a small window on the door, just above the doorknob. I peeked through the door and had to throw my hand over my face to muffle a small yelp. There was a face staring back at me. 

    "Sheila? Is that you?" I reached for the doorknob to open the door and found that it was being held from the other side. Not locked, being held shut. "Sheila, open the door. It's Laura." I tried to reassure her but she stared at me in abject terror before shaking her head adamantly. Sheila had been a coworker of Carson's. We had never gotten along but I couldn't believe she was acting this way. She knew me.  Branson walked over, probably hearing me talking.  

    "What the hell are you doing? We're supposed to get the stuff and get out-not explore." He whispered this furiously and I simply pointed to the window where Sheila's face was still staring at us. He seemed taken aback, as we had all thought the store would be empty. He too reached for the door, opening it slightly before Sheila was able to yank it closed. This time it shut with an audible bang causing us to flinch and Scott to begin walking towards us with an annoyed expression on his face. 

    "Sarge, I told ya this girl was just gonna b-" He stopped mid sentence and lifted his handgun towards the big doors that led to the public portion of the store. He looked at Branson and held up three fingers. Branson nodded and moved to stand in front of me. 

    "Get ready. We don't know if they're friendlies or not." Branson whispered to me. I raised my gun, clicking the safety off. Gotta love Glocks, they're much easier in an emergency situation. Probably why they are standard police issue. I scanned the hallway behind us, trusting that they could handle initial contact from that side. As I watched it looked as if the far door was moving. Slowly opening towards me. 

    "Branson, there's movement." I told him in a quiet tone, sighting down my barrel in preparation for whatever was gonna come through that door.

    "s**t!" He cursed under his breath and I heard the rustle of clothing as he presumably motioned to Scott. 

    "What are we gonna do?" I asked him. 

    "We survive." Is all he said. I was suddenly overcome with a sick feeling just as the first body stumbled through the hallway door. It was almost instantaneous when they saw us standing there. Their pace quickened as they beelined for us. Before I even had a chance to fire on them, Branson had already taken a shot at the first one. I wasn't sure how many there were but there was a large group of these creatures swarming towards me. I opened fire, aiming only for kill shots, not looking to wound. Branson's gun echoed in my ear and I was vaguely aware of Scott shouting and his gun firing also but I had to have faith that they had my back. I focused on my shots, quickly noticing that gut shots didn't slow them. Headshots were the only thing that worked. 

    I pulled the trigger and my gun clicked. Empty. There were still five of them coming towards us. I turned to look at Branson and saw that his gun was down at his side, also empty. Scott was running over to meet us. I imagined he had taken care of three easily. 

    "I'm out. Scott?" Branson looked at him expectantly and he held up his gun. Dropping the magazine, he showed us that he too was out. He pulled his knife out of its thigh sheath and grinned. 

    "Don't need bullets for everything Sarge." Branson pulled a similar knife out. He looked at me for a moment before handing me another, smaller knife from a hip sheath.

    We didn't have to talk. We all surged down the hall towards the last three, each taking on one. Scott began slashing at a woman coming at him. Branson was all about avoidance, jumping back away from the creature and drawing it farther down the hall towards the office door. It had been a slender guy, probably a teenager before he became whatever he was. I somehow ended up with the big guy. 

    Easily over 6' tall, he had to have weighed at least 250lbs. He was slower than the other two, most likely due to the weight difference. He reached for me and I tried to step underneath his arms and get behind him, but I stumbled over one of the dropped bodies, falling over. He turned towards me, leaning down as he was going to drop over the top of me and it was like the world slowed down. I felt an intense heat fill my chest and spread through my body and suddenly I could see what I needed to do. Like it was second nature to me, I quickly rolled out from where he was dropping. With one perfect arc, I embedded the knife, handle deep, in his temple. Whatever life was in him, was gone instantaneously. The warm feeling faded as did the awful feeling that had started when we entered the building. Like the event I had been dreading was finished. 

    Scott finished off his attacker with one final sweep of his blade. Taking her head clean off. He whooped like he had just scored a touchdown. Branson had done something similar to me and I turned around as he was pulling his blade from the skull of the guy he had taken on. He glanced over to us and just as he opened his mouth to say something, the office door opened and Sheila walked out. 

    "Did you get them all?" She asked Branson, not even looking in my direction.     

    "Yeah. No thanks to you. Thanks for the warning." Branson shot her a look of annoyance before turning to Scott and I. "Let's grab what we need and let's get the f**k out of here."  With that he turned and went back to where he had dropped his pile of supplies. Scott went back to his box without a word. I stared at Sheila, irritated that she had left us out here to die. She was a pretty woman. She was 23 and extremely curvaceous. Short, with a perfect hourglass figure,  her ample bosom was always overflowing from her lowcut tops. Long chestnut brown hair flowed down her back in perfect natural curls. I hadn't ever seen her with her hair and makeup less than perfect and annoyance flashed through me as I noticed how naturally pretty she was without the makeup. Her jeans were skintight but they were stained with blood everywhere. She looked very shaken but otherwise unharmed.

    "Why didn't you open the door Sheila?" I walked straight up to her, wanting answers.

    "They were out here! What if they got inside with me?" She said this like I had asked the stupidest question in the world. 

    "So you were just gonna let us die? Then what? Stay in your little room without a lock and wait? You could have at least warned us they were in here." I was absolutely furious that this b***h just sat in there, knowing there was a horde waiting for us and she couldn't even say anything.

   "Okay, maybe I should have warned you. I wasn't gonna let you put those things in there with me though! I know you would have let them get me!" She ran back into the office with tears in her eyes. what a drama queen. I swear I could have punched her in the jaw. Scott gave me a dirty look, like I had insulted him. He could blow it out his ass, she could have gotten us killed. He could defend the pretty girl another time, when she wasn't responsible for our almost deaths. 

    I went back over to the box I had been rummaging through. Realizing it was filled with assorted chips I moved on to another box, trying to let the rage simmer down. I figured chips were too noisy of a food for the situation we found ourselves in. I opened the next box and grinned. Jackpot!! Canned food, what looked like vegetables. I grabbed a half empty box from the shelf below and began filling it with canned veggies, making sure to leave room on top for other supplies too. Branson came over and looked into my box, nodding in approval.

    "Canned veggies is a good idea. Healthy and it'll keep for a while. I didn't even think about using the emptier boxes." He smiled at me and my stomach flipped. I silently scolded myself. I had just shot my boyfriend in the head, I shouldn't be reacting this way to another man already. I thought about how I hadn't had s*x in over four months and how Carson was hardly ever home anymore, even before the quarantine. He stayed at his best friend Randy's house most nights, claiming it was easier when he had night shifts followed by opening shifts. I glanced at the closed office door and rolled my eyes. Yeah, easier. 

    "I was thinking that since you have a truck, we could keep some supplies inside with us and throw a couple boxes in the back. That way we have supplies on us if we get trapped inside but we'll be able to carry a surplus." He gave me an admiring look. 

    "I knew that scared woman from the house had more to her." He nodded to my gun. "You don't grow up knowing how to handle a weapon without learning a few other things. Military family?" 

    "My dad was a sheriffs deputy while I was growing up. He was a bit of a country guy and so I guess he passed some stuff on to me. He was really big into survivalist courses and was a bit of a prepper." I smacked my forehead as a realization came to me. "I have a HUGE stash of dehydrated food and portable water filtration canteens at my house! I was so out of it, I completely forgot! I have a survival bag in my car too. Solar blankets, MRE's, the works. Do you think it's safe to try and get back there?" I was getting excited now. Yeah, we were in a grocery store, but there were a lot of useful supplies we wouldn't be able to find here. Plus, it would probably be safer than scavenging and looting.

    "If we wait til full dark we might be able to. We'll have to come up with a plan first though, that area was overrun." It seemed that he realized we needed more supplies than what this store would have to offer. "Do you have anymore weapons? Ammo? I have a couple boxes of .45 in the truck but it wont last long and it looks like you've got a 9 mil Luger. I don't have anything for that." He was beginning to sound excited too.  

    "I have a couple show guns, no ammo for those though. I have about a thousand rounds of 9 mil though." When his eyebrows raised, I had to grin with pride. "Told ya, dad was a prepper. Which means he taught me how to reload my brass." For some reason, I was loving the impressed look he had on his face way more than I should. 

    "If those show guns still have the firing pins, they'll do. We can keep an eye out for extra ammo for them. That ammo will come in handy, especially if we can get our hands on another 9mm." He seemed to become lost in thought as he marched over to Scott and began talking to him in a hushed voice. Pointing over at me, he smiled when he saw me watching them. I blushed and quickly began to walk to the office, remembering they kept a first aid kit and defibrillator in there.    

    I pushed the door open and found Sheila sitting in the desk chair, crying pitifully. She looked up as I entered and her tears slowed as she looked at me distrustfully. Like I had ever given her a reason not to trust me. Man, I couldn't stand her.     

    "What do YOU want?" She asked me, throwing some attitude in her voice. 

    "Oh, untwist your panties. I just need the first aid kit." I told her. I gestured down at my injured leg and shrugged my shoulder, sending a jolt through me as the scabbed flesh split open again. My injuries were really starting to ache, telling me that my adrenaline was wearing off once again. Sheila pointed to the small filing cabinet in the corner and I saw the first aid kit sitting up there. I reached for it, mistakenly using my injured left shoulder. I winced as the weight of the first aid kit made me drop it back down on the cabinet. I gritted my teeth against the stinging sensation and begrudgingly looked at Sheila. "Could I get some help? I'm sure you know how to use gauze." 

    "Fine." She said as she stood and grabbed the first aid kit. I sat in the chair she had just occupied and gingerly pulled my shirt over my head. It clung to the dried blood, causing me to peel it from my skin like a face mask. It made a disgusting crunching noise as the stiff material was forced to bend. My bra strap had been destroyed during the attack so I didn't need to worry about moving that out of the way. My shirt was pretty much done anyway. I'd have to find one. They always had sweaters and t-shirts from the local schools in the store. 

    "So... have you seen Carson anywhere? I haven't seen him since he told me to stay in here. He told me he was going to be back but that was yesterday and.." She trailed off as if unsure how to finish her thought. 

    "Carson is the one that did this to me." I told her bluntly.     

    "What?! Well, where is he? Is he okay? What did you DO to him?!" She stopped working on my shoulder as she became more frantic with each question. I turned to her and met her eyes. She searched my face and apparently she didn't like what she saw. "What did you do?!" She shouted this time. 

    "I shot him in the head." When I said this her face went from horrified to heartbroken to angry in a split second. Tears filled her eyes and she opened her mouth wide, as if she was going to start yelling at me but Branson appeared in the doorway. 

    "What's with the yelling? Did you not get the memo that there's monsters trying to eat us and you need to shut the f**k up?" As soon as Branson walked in, Sheila's anger dissipated and she began to cry again. Running to Branson and throwing her arms around his neck. his expression darkened and he looked almost disgusted. "We need to leave. We can manage your wounds in the truck." He told me, while he extricated himself from Sheila's grip. She allowed this, but shifted to holding onto his arm with a death grip. Shoving her bosom into his arm to emphasize it even more, she pouted her lip and stared up at him from beneath her lashes.

    "Can I come with you? I can't stay here by myself." She was seriously trying to flirt her way into our truck. Could I slap her now? I couldn't help that the image of her pushed up against Branson so infuriating to me either.

    "Yeah, Sarge, we can't leave such a pretty little thing all by her lonesome." Scott chimed in.

    "How do you know this one?" Branson pointed down at the parasite sticking herself to him. 

    "Her? Oh, she's the girl my boyfriend had been cheating on me with." Her eyes snapped up to meet mine in shock. 

    "Well... this just got weird." With that last comment, Scott walked out to the truck, leaving us in an uncomfortably heavy silence.