Rabid

between that bottle of water and a loaded .45 and said I had to go back out there, I’d pick the loaded .45 every time.”

Carl glanced at the bottle of Arrowhead in disappointment.  “It’s better than nothing.”

“Yeah, it’s better than nothing.”  He looked at his watch and then nodded toward the window.  “Another hour-and-a-half and it should be dark enough.  We’ll go out the same way we came in.  I think we should head across the street and see if we can find a way into that hardware store too.”

“Why not just find a car and leave?  I don’t think a shopping spree is such a good idea.”

“We’re going to do it just in case.”

“What?  And we’re going to fill a shopping cart and then push it down the street until we find a car to unload it in?”

“No.  We won’t use a cart.  Only what we can carry without getting bogged down.  A cart would make too much noise.”

“No shit, Sherlock.  It’s still a shitty idea.  I’m telling you, if we stop anywhere it should be a gun shop.”

“Remember where we are.  Chances are a town this small doesn’t have a gun shop.  You have to compare it to our town.  Do we have a gun shop?  No.  So most likely they don’t have one here, either.  Around here, a hardware store is the next best thing.”

Carl mulled this over.  He walked up to one of the plate glass windows, looking down the street at Dave’s Hardware.  “It’s not that far.  Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a look and see what we find.”

“We need to look at this like we’re in it for the long haul.  It’s not a matter of getting home and everything’s back to normal.  At least I don’t see how things could get turned around that fast.  The plan is to get home, get our loved ones all together, and then make a kind of self-sustaining fortress out of your place or my place or Mom and Dad’s house.  Fix it up so it’s strong enough to keep those things out.  Maybe then we can wait till this all blows over.”

“Has anybody told you you’ve seen too many movies?”

“Yeah, and it’s lucky for you that I have,” Taylor said.  “Turns out they’re kind of like survival guides for when the shit really breaks loose.”

Carl rolled his eyes.  “See.  That’s what I mean.  Too many freakin’ movies.”

Carl heard the sound and imagined it was what Spain sounded like during the Running of the Bulls.  The sound of a hundred feet running in tandem.  The noise grew louder and he crouched down behind a rack of women’s power suits, peeking around a pair of slacks in time to see the mob of crazies passing by right outside the window.  Even on asphalt, that many feet were like the menacing rumble of distant thunder.

Taylor had taken refuge behind the ‘returns’ counter.  He was thinking that if those things saw them that the two of them were goners.  Nothing to stop them but a thin piece of glass.

“I don’t believe it,” Carl said.  “You think they’re still looking for us?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.”

Carl waited another minute, took a final glace around the corner to make certain the coast was clear, and then made his way back to Taylor.

The sky outside had taken on a gloomy quality; a thick buildup of clouds had rolled in.

Carl said, “That’s what we need.  For it to rain.  If those things are afraid of water, then rain should really fuck with them.”

Taylor didn’t think they were lucky enough for it to rain.  It was autumn.  Although the season saw its fair share of rain, he was also cognizant of the fact that eighty percent of the time those dark clouds could also be one of Mother Nature’s cruelest bluffs.  He didn’t say this out loud; he wanted to keep things positive.  Carl knew how to keep his head.  That wasn’t an issue.  But Taylor never underestimated the power of positive thinking, even if he wasn’t very good at it.  “Rain wouldn’t hurt,” he said.

“I can’t believe those things stick around,” Carl said.  “Just running back and forth on the street like that.  I know they’re probably still looking for us, but don’t they have to move on sometime?  Don’t they still have to eat?  Or sleep?”

“If we had access to a radio or a TV we’d at least know if they’d figured that out yet.”

Taylor glanced at his watch.  Time was creeping by slowly, and despite his pessimism, the clouds outside instilled a glimmer of hope.  The rain might not hurt them, he thought.  But it might keep them out of our hair for a little while.

Carl unscrewed the cap and took a drink from the bottle of Arrowhead.

“I thought you were saving that for them?” Taylor said, nodding in the direction of the window.

“I am.  It’s not a big deal.  It’s tap water.  I’ll get a refill before we go.  It tastes like shit, you know.  Not even cold.”

“Can’t have everything.”

“Why do you think they were running?  When they went by those things were running.  Why?  I don’t see the point of it.  Whether they’re still looking for us or not, I don’t see the need to run.  I wonder if it has something to do with whatever’s wrong with them.  You’re the rabies expert.  Would rabies make them run like that?”

“No idea,” Taylor said.  “I don’t remember reading anything about that.  And I’m nowhere close to being an expert on the subject.”

“Since there’s nobody else around, I’d say you’re the closest thing to it.”

Carl moved over to the window again.  He was leery of the mob returning.  His eyes were on Dave’s Hardware.  It sat kitty-corner from the clothing store.  “It’s really not that far.  I bet I could throw a rock that far.  Way less than it took to find this place.”  He brought his head forward, pressing his nose against the window glass, shifting his view so that he could see down the opposite side of the street.  “None of those things in sight at the moment.  What if we tried going for it?  I mean, what if we went right now.  Make a beeline for it.  Go right out the front door, full speed ahead.”

“The only problem with that is what if we get over there and the door is locked?”  He walked up to the window and stood next to his brother, bringing his face close to the window without pressing up against it.  “The coast is clear now, and maybe we could make it across the street fast enough, but what happens when we hit that door and it’s locked?  Because you know it’s going to be.  Besides the fact that no business owner with his head on straight is going to forget to lock up his own store, we’re just not that fucking lucky.  How many times have you left the front door to your house unlocked?”

“Plenty of times.”

“Okay.  Bad example.  Say you owned a business.  Wouldn’t you want to make sure the door was locked?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, there you go.”

“I didn’t mean we should get across the street, try the handle and say ‘oh well, it’s locked, guess we might as well move on.’  I meant we break the glass out of the door if we have to.  Or just try the back door.”

“Breaking the glass will make enough noise to bring those things down on us.  And if we break the door, there won’t be anything between us and them.”

“True.”  Carl tapped his knuckles lightly against the window.  “But is this really gonna stop them if they want to get in?”

“You’ve got a point, but it’ll be dark enough in another hour or so.  An hour difference isn’t worth the risk.”

Carl sighed and walked back to the counter.  He took another drink from the water bottle, grimacing at the taste of it.  His stomach protested loudly against its lack of food.

Taylor sat down on the floor, back resting against the front of the counter.  Carl sat down next to him.  Together, they watched and waited.

Chapter 2 Dave’s Hardware