“I imagine he’ll appreciate that.” Clyde looked back out the window, watching the sidewalk and street with a vigilant gaze.
Max examined the empty bowl, his tongue lapping at any drops of water he could find.
“I’ll get you some more water as well. Be right back.” Russell patted the German shepherd’s side, then sifted through the mounds of clutter on the floor.
Max continued licking the bowl. The metal piece on his collar pinged off the side.
Russell dipped his chin and lifted his foot, watching where he stepped. He wanted to avoid smashing any treats or packages of food that looked to be in decent shape.
The light shining through the front windows and entrance washed over the items. Russell cherry picked some more jerky and other food from the mess scattered about along with four more bottles of water.
“Here.” He handed two of the bottles to Clyde along with another bag of jerky. “Can you pour him some water and give him these while I take this other stuff to Cathy?”
“Of course.” Clyde took the water and jerky, then walked toward Max who sniffed the floor close to the bowl.
Russell approached Cathy, showing her what he had found. “All right. Here is another bottle of water. I also grabbed some salted peanuts, cheese crackers, and another bag of black pepper beef jerky.”
Cathy leaned forward and reached for the water. “I’ll take the jerky if that’s all right.”
“You can have all three if you want,” Russell said, handing the bottle and jerky to her. “I’m going to see what else I can find and stuff it into the bag while we’re here. There’s plenty of junk food left that I can rummage through.”
Cathy shook her head, then waved her hand at him. “That’s all right. Between the candy bars and this jerky, I’ll be good for now. Thanks for the water and the grub.”
“No problem.” Russell scratched at the stubble on his chin. “I’m going to gather up more stuff. Rest and take it easy. We’ll head out shortly.”
“Yes, sir,” Cathy replied, saluting him.
Russell sneered at her, then walked away. He sifted through the aisles, gathering up more food and a few bottles of water. His arms soon overflowed.
The packages crinkled against his chest.
The bottles of water teetered on plummeting over his arm to the floor.
Russell set the items on one of the empty shelves, then removed the rucksack from his shoulders. He unzipped the top and opened the bag. A dense thud sounded from the far corner of the store.
Russell sat up straight, reaching for the Ruger.
A sharp ruff launched from Max. He lifted his head from the water bowl, searching for the source.
Clyde turned away from the entrance, then skimmed the periphery of the store. “Did you hear that?”
“I did. Sounded like it might have come from that door in the corner,” Russell replied. “Wait here. I’m going to check it out.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
RUSSELL
Darkness consumed the far corner leading to the back of the building. What light that shone through the front windows struggled to reach the blackness.
Russell stooped next to the rucksack, then shoved his hand deep into the depths of the canvas bag. He rummaged through the contents as he looked in the direction of the noise.
Max trotted toward him with his nose trained to the floor.
“Not this time, bud.” Russell said, fishing out the flashlight. He pointed at Clyde. “Stay here and guard the front and Cathy.”
“What’s happening?” Cathy’s voice trembled with uncertainty. “What was that noise?”
“We’re not sure. Sounded like it came from the back of the store. Perhaps the stock room or something,” Clyde answered in a low tone.
Russell rubbed Max’s head, then pointed toward the entrance. “Go on. Get back up there.”
Max groaned, lowered his head, and did as commanded. He skirted past the end of the aisle, turned, and looked at Russell with his ears up and eyes trained on him.
“Watch that entrance.” Russell thumbed the button to the flashlight. “There may be more people trying to break in here.”
Clyde tilted his head. “Watch your back.”
“Always.”
Russell trained the sharp, white beam of the light at the far corner of the store. His wrist rested on his forearm, the Ruger pointed ahead of him. He swept the empty shelves and the dark walkway leading to the swinging gunmetal steel door.
The soles of his boots crunched over fallen packages and knocked various bottles of cola and other flavored drinks out of his way. Beads of sweat raced from his hairline and down his forehead. They dipped into his eyes, burning each one. He blinked, then rubbed the sleeve of his shirt over his face to clear his vision.
The banging noise sounded again–louder.
Russell paused and listened, then moved on.
The light trained at the bottom corner of the shelves and the low light of the walkway that the light stretched to reach. Between the smoke and the cloudy skies, the full brunt of the sun’s rays was hit or miss within the tumult of the city.
The banging stopped, leaving nothing more than a dull silence that lingered from the darkness beyond the steel door and window molded inside it. No other sounds loomed from the space.
Russell gulped and moved on. He peered over his shoulder at Clyde who kept out of view from the front entrance and watched from the cover of the wall near the door. He shot Russell a simple nod, then offered a thumbs up.
Max growled. Even from the far side of the store, Russell could detect the canine’s tension and apprehensiveness of the strange noise.
The endless void of blackness behind the plastic window revealed no shadowy shapes or black clad figures lingering in the depths of the
