9. Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Shelby
Nestled along the Molalla River and with a population of about ten thousand residents, this is as good a place as any to potentially fill up the car.
Thankfully, the small city center is surrounded by more plots of land interspersed with farms which makes it less likely we will run into a horde roaming around.
Still, we have no plans to drive through the most populated areas, aided by the tiny market and single pump gas station Larry points to on the right. Blissfully free of cars and with none of them in sight, it appears to be an ideal spot and as soon as we stop, I inch away from Nate.
In my haste to exit the vehicle, I stumble a little and Cason, who’s standing by the door, grabs my arm to help steady me before asking, “Everything okay?”
Shit. Fuck. Damn.
My stomach swirls with nerves as soon as Cason meets my gaze and anything to do with Nate disappears while I drop my eyes and mumble, “It’s fine.”
Get it to-fucking-gether, Shelby.
When he releases my arm and steps back, eyeing me weirdly, I—of course—laugh like a hyena before walking away because I’m a fucking idiot.
I’m mumbling profanities when Nora steps up beside me, her lips curved into a sly smile. Since I can’t explain it to myself, even if I wanted to, I ignore her and focus on the restroom because now that relief is in sight, my bladder protests vehemently.
It’s quiet but for the occasional chirp of a bird and I glance behind us at the clouds brewing overhead while we follow the red painted arrow on the side of the building around the corner before stopping at the door.
I read once that in and around Portland, it averages forty inches of rain per year, which I can confirm feels like almost every day especially in the spring, so it’s no surprise that it might be on the horizon. I just hope it doesn’t interfere with our trip, if you can call it that.
Outside the restroom door, I pause and look back as Nora hefts a mean looking knife in the air. Where did she get that? Oh, shit.
It’s from our kitchen and if I’m not mistaken, it’s the same fancy ass steak knife Ben used to cut my fucking skin.
Maybe it’s apropos that it’s now being used to save a life, but it doesn’t matter to me.
I’d rather never see it again or his diabolical smile when he traced it across my stomach and said, “I’ll take you all the way to hell with me, baby. ”
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I grab the door handle and whisper, “Ready?”
After Nora nods, I suck in a breath before wrenching on the handle. For my efforts, I slam into the freaking metal before staggering back, hoping I didn’t pull my shoulder from the socket.
It’s locked. Of course . . .
When Nora chuckles behind me, I spin toward her with a frown before a laugh spills from my lips. If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry, so there’s that.
“Let’s go find the keys?” she says, brushing her shoulder against mine.
“Yeah,” I say, following her when she retraces our steps around the building.
From here, I see Larry through the window. I’m hoping this means they’ve already cleared the place because now that I have to pee, I’m on the verge of dancing to keep from doing it in my pants.
When Nora shoves the door open, the bell tinkles overhead. Larry nods from where he’s perusing the maps on a rickety rack by the door, reminding me that I lost the atlas somewhere in the woods while traversing the hillside back to my house.
Beyond Larry, Nate stands before the beer cooler, assessing the options, I suppose, and I curl my lip. Now is not a good time to be worrying about your next buzz when we could get eaten at any moment.
I can’t even imagine trying to outrun or worse battle one of those things drunk. Yeah, no.
While Nora stalks around the counter and roots around, I approach the toiletry aisle before grabbing toothpaste and several toothbrushes.
I could have easily done this at home but frankly I was worried someone in our group would suspect something. Now I can finally clean my mouth without getting all paranoid and stupid.
“Aha!” Nora says with a triumphant smile, and I eagerly follow her back around to the bathroom, except this time I am dancing around in pain.
With a chuckle, Nora hands me the key while she raises the knife. The action reminds me of how serious this is and with a silent sigh, I slide the key into the slot and grab the knob before saying, “Ready?”
At her nod, I wrench it open and close my eyes for half a second but that’s all it takes for Nora to gasp while I jump back, my fingers slipping off the door.
It slides closed on ancient hinges, allowing the image beyond to curdle my already sore stomach and turning to the side, I wretch up the cereal we ate for breakfast.
The sickly-sweet burn crawls up my throat as Nora shakes her head and whispers, “Fuck.”
Fuck, indeed. I can’t begin to explain the why’s but if I had to guess, the woman sitting in the corner of the filthy bathroom clutching a small child to her chest, chose death over whatever she was facing on earth.
Was the child bit? Was she? Does it matter? Now that little girl's tiny fingers will eternally rest, curled around her mother’s bicep while the other hand still hangs from her pale blue lips, where I presume, she was sucking her thumb.
Like a car crash, I can’t help but to look again but this time I avoid the woman’s filmy eyes, staring into nothing, while I take in her chin resting against the pale blond head of the girl held carefully in her arms.
Once the door is finally closed, I back up a step, only to flinch away, when Nora touches my arm, and says, “Are you okay?”
“No! I’m not fucking okay,” I cry, waving my hand toward the door. “We’re completely fucked.”
After my hysterical statement, we drop to silence until Nora says, “That may be but we’re still alive now.”
When I meet her stare, she nods toward the door, and I exhale a sob before moving to the men’s restroom. This time, I don’t hesitate, but I am relieved to find it empty and take the discarded toothpaste and brush from Nora’s hands.
“You first,” she says.
“Thanks.”
The bitter scent of urine assaults my nose as I set the articles down on the tiny pedestal sink before crouching over the toilet. It may seem completely mundane in comparison to what’s happening out there, but I still refuse to let my skin touch the dirty porcelain seat.
After relieving myself, I do up my pants before making quick work of brushing my teeth all while refusing to look at myself in the warped mirror.
I don’t need any reminders of my frailty today. I’m emotionally freaking drained as it is.
Once I’m done, I leave the paste and an unopened brush on the sink before exiting into the sunshine where Nora offers me the knife, and I grab it with a wooden smile.
Where would I be right now if I hadn’t finally fought back? Dead or trapped with Ben’s family for an eternity?
It’s no mystery where Ben learned his violent behavior because his father didn’t exactly hide it. When I first met Mr. Parker, I actually felt sorry for Ben and what must have been a sad fucking childhood.
Oh, how naive I was. I should have run at that and never looked back.
Although I welcome the interruption to my never-ending thoughts, I’m not pleased when I look up and find a group of them walking down the street.
They’re easy to identify because where a normal human would walk with purpose, these things stagger, with zero urgency, at least until they sniff out a fresh meal.
Licking my suddenly dry lips, I glance around but the guys must be inside the store. We need to get off the street now, and I tap lightly on the door before pointing at the newest threat when Nora emerges.
Her sigh matches my own and she shoves the toothpaste in my hand before plucking the knife away. Eyeing it uneasily, I concede, I need some sort of a weapon for close encounters, although I have no clue what that might be.
I’m not all that familiar with guns although my aim is adequate and I wouldn’t want to attract more assholes anyway, but a knife doesn’t seem all that useful. Frankly, something that’s long and sharp would be my preference. Distance is the name of the game with these fucking freaks.
Back at the entrance to the mini mart, I search through the windows with a kernel of foreboding because I don’t see a damn soul in sight. Where did the guys go?
Nora continues along the building until she reaches the other side but shakes her head before turning to me to say, “Maybe they’re in the back?”
I sure as fuck hope so. Otherwise, my pathetic dream of tagging along with Cason just became a nightmare.
With my belly roiling once more, I wrench on the door and step inside, wincing when the bell tinkles overhead. A glance outside reveals the suckers still coming and I zero in on the boy in the back.
He’s no more than fifteen or sixteen years old and was probably just learning how to drive a car with plans to take his sweetheart somewhere special.
Now, he limps along on a broken ankle, his sightless eyes rolling around in their sockets while he sniffs the air.
Torn at the shoulder and revealing bloodied skin and a series of bite marks, the sweaty jersey, proclaims him a baseball player.
Although not nearly as gory as the others, it still brings tears to my eyes. Was he scared when they bit him? Did he know his life was over? Flashes of the little girl and woman from the bathroom dance over my vision and I concede, maybe she knew what was coming and chose a quicker way out.
When Nora steps past me and down the aisle toward a door tucked between the coolers, I follow, rubbing away the brutal burn in my chest. What if they didn’t leave us? What if they’re dead? What then?
Nora stops at the door and glances back, her eyes wide.
I spy the pulse pounding in her neck and swallow back the fear resting on my tongue.
The better part of me wants to run and bury my head in the sand rather than face possible betrayal but we have few choices. We need each other, that much is clear.