“What the hell were you thinking?” Sanchez steered onto the sidewalk behind the trunk of the maroon sedan there was a screech like nails on a chalkboard and Eric felt the truck scrape against the sedan carving jagged claw marks across the truck’s passenger side panels.
“We need the guns. There aren’t enough for everyone back at the farmhouse and we aren’t going to find many just laying around like that.” Eric was talking in between breaths. The jolt that the zombie in the passenger seat had given him had driven the air out of his lungs and he was gasping like a fish out of water to get the oxygen back.
Sanchez kept his eyes on the truck in front of him; the convoy was a half a block ahead of them. Eric looked through his side mirror again and he was relieved to see that no zombies were stalking towards them at the moment. Sanchez let a deep breath out through his nose like a bull preparing to charge, “It was good thinking but a real piss poor time to start shooting. We need to do like Armando’s men earlier. Spears and hammers, anything metal that won’t warp or break. Those are the tools were going to need to survive.”
He knew that Sanchez was right and there was no arguing that the good that Eric had done by grabbing the gun was completely undone by the reckless firing of the gun in this infested town so he kept his mouth shut. As their conversation ended Eric watched through the windshield as the trucks ahead of them were pulling up along a build on the left side of the street a half block up.
The mom and pop’s hardware store that had been singled out for the mission was situated between 8th and 9th street and took up the bulk of a block. There was a large covered shed in the back crammed full of lumber from particle board sheets to standard carpentry 2x4s. The first truck driven by Fred who had joined the group to replace Charles was backing into the shed as Sanchez and Eric pulled in alongside the front of the store. Dan was in a dirty caked white farming truck in front of Sanchez and Eric and his partner in the mission Devin was climbing out of the truck shotgun pressed into his shoulder scouting the streets in front and to the right of their position.
Dan was behind the truck dropping the tailgate his own pistol stuffed between his jeans and the skin of his hip. The hinges of the tailgate gave a grinding rusty squeal as the heavy steel flat dropped into the down position. “You guys run into some trouble back there did ya?” Sanchez looked and Eric and Eric stared back at the Hispanic officer but neither man bothered to answer Dan. The middle aged farmhand looked at the two men and their simmering frustration and decided not to press for an answer, “all the same best to stay sharp now ‘because those damn creepers are going to be all keyed up now. Devin you come with me we’ve got to get what we came for and get out of here double quick.”
The man named Devin did a quick sweep of the street before turning from the barren streets and jogging towards the front of the store. Sanchez grabbed Eric’s right shoulder in a vise grip and pulled him in close so he couldn’t be heard by the guys in the third truck that was pulling up behind them, “I trust you with that gun more than most. I want you inside with the other three clearing the place and grabbing whatever you can that looks useful.”
Taking his compliment as a sign that Sanchez wasn’t mad at his anymore Eric did as the Hispanic officer asked and trotted between the trucks and to the front of the store where he grouped up with Dan and Devin. The two guys looked at him, Dan cracking a small smile that was there and gone in the blink of an eye. Dan had heard Eric’s story already and he had probably double checked it with Kirk and Sanchez and knew Eric could handle himself in a situation like this. Just like Eric felt being near Sanchez increased the odds of him making out of any situation alive his own presence gave these guys a similar feeling. They waited as a bear of a man by the name of Owen stomped towards their position at the front of the door. Owen was covered from head to two in Carhart clothing from workmen’s overalls, a heavy winter jacket, and boots to a black hat with the Carhart logo on the front. The guy was like a gorilla huge bulging arms and shoulders sitting on top of granite hard legs. The guy looked like he wrestled bears for a living and won. He had a reddish brown goatee that was just a little longer than the week old beard growing on his soft round cheeks.
He had a shotgun held in both hands against his chest and an axe that had fresh saw marks at the end of the handle where the burly man had cut shortened the handle. It was a smart move and Eric admired the genius of the design. A normal axe would be great for fighting in the open but in closer quarters a guy had to keep the power of the axe while avoid pitfalls like snagging it on shelves. The half sized handle gave the Owen level of lethal power that most of the other men on the mission lacked.
“Ready for some fun,” Owen the giant asked as he drew up next to Eric who was standing behind Dan and Devin. Both men had their hands pressed to the swinging doors of the store waiting for the go head to enter.
When it became clear that everyone was waiting for his signal Eric turned to the small cluster of men around him and whispered, “The plan is simple. We start on this side of the store,” Eric pointed at the side of the building closest to the door. “We clear the place row by row before we grab anything. If anyone gets in over their heads just call out and we’ll come running.” Eric watched as each of the men nodded their understanding before ne tapped Dan twice on the back and the farmhand pushed the door open. There was a small chime as the door cut across a red laser and set the alarm off. The single ping of the chime was hollow and frail as it traveled on a whisper to the back of the room. No hisses or growls or wheezing answered the little beep and with a calming breath Eric moved to the far right aisle of the building.
It was clear almost immediately that others had come to the hardware store looking to find any small advantage they could grab to save themselves. As Eric neared the front of his aisle he could see the scarred and cracked details of work boots peaking around the edge of the aluminum aisle divider. Eric pulled his gun up staring down the sights as he side stepped closer to the boots hanging out the end of his isle. As he got closer the smell started drifting towards him like the noxious vapors of hell’s vents. Taking his left hand off the gun Eric pulled his arm across his face and pressed his mouth and nose into the crook in his elbow as he fought the stinging tears leaking into the corners of his eyes. Eric was amazed at just how rancid a body could become in seven days or less. Eric pushed on through the reek of the body that was strangling his nostrils and throat and trying to force up his breakfast.
Sidestepping closer to the mouth of his aisle Eric’s view of the body lying on the white linoleum of the hardware store improved. With each step he got closer and as he inched closer he could see the extent of the body’s injuries.
A blood trail meandered like a stream down the entire aisle starting at a large dark pool where the man’s arm had been torn from its shoulder socket. Serrated strips of flesh and tendons were dangling from the empty socket. A dark red pool of blood sat under the man’s body the result of a large wound to his left side near his kidney where it looked like more than one zombie had chewed into his side and feasted on the internal organs that they could get their teeth on. From where Eric stood the rest of the man looked intact but those two wounds alone were more than enough to end his life. By the look of things there appeared to be at least three zombies who had attacked this man and Eric wasn’t going to bet that those zombies had abandoned the store in search of fresher meat.
In a hiss that Eric wasn’t entirely sure would carry to the next aisle where Owen was he whispered, “Keep your eyes open there might be a few lurking around.” Eric’s snapped his eyes back to his own lane as he heard a faint squish sound. His eyes scanned the aisle like a predatory bird looking for the smallest movement, the almost imperceptible sounds that would send him into a murderous flight. A handful of breaths flowed in and rushed out of Eric’s lungs as he stood and waited for any sign of intruder and after two long minutes of waiting without another sound he took a cautious step into the aisle. As an added precaution Eric nudged the man in the aisles boot once to make sure he was truly dead.
A sharp crack of solid flesh against the aluminum shelving of the aisle dividers sent Eric jumping back as the man’s body started thrashing like a shark on the deck of a fishing boat. The zombie rocked back and forth like a bucking bronco but with only the one arm it couldn’t push itself up off the floor. It was succeeding in turning itself around and its snapping jaws were getting closer and closer to Eric’s legs with every swipe of its left arm which it used like an oar to turn around. Eric jumped without thinking and landed hard on the zombies back with sank and shifted as he landed. As the zombie struggled in vain to get to its feet Eric could feel the disjointed parts of the zombie’s body shifting under his chest like a sack full of snakes as he pressed hard into the zombie trying to keep it pinned down. Eric lifted up the gun over his head, his left hand pressed hard into the zombies shoulder pinning the zombie down while he brought the butt of the gun crashing down against the back of the zombie’s skull. The strike of the gun butt against the zombie’s skull cracked like two rocks thrown against each other and Eric could feel the cold steel of the gun penetrate a half inch past the bone. Eric reared back and swung forward again with the gun using it like a hammer and hitting the mark again this time getting a full inch past the crack skull. The zombie thrashed harder against the weight of Eric’s body sensing its own impending doom but with two quick solid strikes to the back of the head the zombie stopped moving.
Eric pushed himself up off the zombie black blood and bits of brain matter oozing out of the things ears and gaping hole in its head as wiped the grip of the gun against his pant leg. Owen came around the other end of the aisle to see what had happened. The bear of a man looked at Eric with blood splattering his shirt and the gore covered butt of the gun in his hands. The giant nodded a few times and then spoke his voice shaking the walls like the curse of a giant from a deep mountain cave, “if you’re going to kill them up close like that you’re going to need something better, a hammer or a hatchet.” His advice given the giant walked away from the mouth of the aisle and out of sight.
Taking the giant’s advice to heart Eric let his eyes drift across the objects handing on hooks and clustered together along shelves in his aisle. His irises fell on a large carpentry hammer with a neck stretching a good foot if not more. A scream broke the silent stillness of the hardware store. Eric wrapped eager fingers around the handle of the hammer and pulled as he went running down the aisle. The ping and clatter of falling metal reporting the fall of hammers and screwdrivers that were wrenched off the hanging display as Eric pulled the hammer unceremoniously from the hanger it was resting on. Coming around the corner of his aisle Eric could see the solid slab of Owen’s back turning down row two ahead of him. Her sprinted to catch up and as he came around the end display of plumbing pipes he was pushed back by the terrible scene unfolding before him.
Devin and Dan were trying to wrench Devin’s wrist from the jaws of a zombie who had dove through the large gap in the shelving where copper and PVC pipes for plumbing had been stacked. Eric caught sight of a second zombie that no one seemed to be paying attention to who had latched onto Devin’s right ankle like a bear trap. As Dan and Devin fought to free Devin’s wrist the flesh and tendons started to tear and snap breaking away from Devin’s arm and being slurped into the waiting mouth of the zombie. It was clear despite the pain it had to be causing him Devin was determined to pull free of the zombie clamped on his arm. As Dan and Devin continued to struggle the space between them and zombie was widening. Eric hit Owen on the right shoulder with the flat of his hand and when the giant turned Eric pointed a finger at the zombie on the floor ripping skin from Devin’s calf. As Owen sidestepped around the jerking bodies of Devin and Dan Eric took a few quick steps back and then ran around the end of the aisle and down the next one.
The flailing kicking legs of the zombie eating away at Devin’s arm were visible through a hip high shelf near the middle of the aisle. Eric put his gun in his hip holster transferring the hammer to his right hand after putting the gun away. The zombie’s feet were quickly falling to the floor and Eric sprinted. As the zombie was thrown off Devin’s arm he slipped back through the shelf landing hard on its ass as it collapsed onto the linoleum flooring of the hardware store. Eric heard a snap and gave just a second to look at the slumping form of the zombie, one of its ankles had snapped as it fell, the bone pocking through the skin like a cowboy spur. It was chewing on a strip of flesh like a cow eating cud as Eric came within reach of the zombie. Swinging the hammer like Babe Ruth swinging for the fences Eric felt the steel of the hammer connect with the temple of zombie and sink through the skin and bone like it was mud. As Eric’s moment carried him past the zombie he gave the handle of the hammer a tug and as the hammer head came free it split a huge hole in the zombie’s head tearing out its right eye and most of its right cheek. The zombies head lulled to the side and rested peacefully against its left shoulder.