She ran hard and fast, glancing at the ground to avoid any of the food that laid before her. The voices inside the food mart multiplied in a blink. Sarah listened between each panted breath as she searched for a place to hide, but she still couldn’t gauge their numbers.
The pack on her back shifted from side to side with every stride she made. Her ankle throbbed, but she bore it the best she could.
An opening past the dairy case presented itself. The blackness beyond hid what lurked on the other side. She ran for the blinding darkness anyway and stopped within the opening.
The pack pressed to the wall. Her head leaned back and her mouth slagged open. She took two deep breaths to stay her nerves and tried to focus.
Sarah craned her neck and peered down the aisle, watching the two men shine their lights over the store. From the jeans, t-shirts, and ballcaps they wore, they weren’t police. One of the men shouldered a rifle while the other carried a pistol.
They swept the area, standing side by side. The light trained her way. She slipped farther down the wall, hiding from the beam.
“Did you find anything back there?” a deep voice asked, booming like thunder from the front of the store. “Mark said he thought he spotted movement inside.”
“There’s a nice muscle car parked out back near the receiving doors,” one of the men answered in a yell. “No one was inside the car or around it. We thought we heard a noise, though, coming from out here.”
Sarah held the shotgun a bit tighter in her hands. Her tongued licked around her dried lips. The hammering of her heart wouldn’t let up. It pounded harder and harder as she listened and watched the group of men, unsure of what their intentions were.
“Well, keep your eyes open for any movement,” the deep voice shouted back. “Grab a cart and start loading up as much food as you can. I want to be out of here as quickly as possible.”
“Copy that.”
The men in the back of the store stopped, then conversed among themselves. They scanned the back wall and the aisles close by, pointing and looking at one another. The light coming from their flashlights shone on their faces as they looked around. One of the men had a thick black beard while the other had more of a smooth, hairless face as far as she could tell.
Black Beard scratched at his chin, then shrugged. He stood a good foot or so above the smaller, wiry guy. He pointed at one of the shopping carts near them, then to the aisle a few feet away. His partner nodded and carried on down the aisle while Black Beard grabbed the cart and vanished around the run of shelving.
Sarah drifted farther back into the blackness of the corner. Her hand felt along the wall, searching for a door of some kind she could slip through.
The light drew closer. The smaller man kept the pistol down at his side while the flashlight in his hand washed over what remained on the shelves.
Sarah wedged herself in the corner, then felt what she thought to be another heavy plastic swinging door. She took a step forward, then pushed her way through. Her gaze remained focused on the aisle before her. The light grew brighter and the rhythmic footfalls of the approaching man thumped inside her head.
The hinges creaked, low and subtle. She slipped into the tepid, dark space. Her hand grabbed the edge of the swinging door. She pushed it forward just as the man came into view.
Her hand released the edge, then she backed away. The pack hit a wall. Light trained at the swinging door. It shone under and around the edges, bleeding into the blackness.
Sarah froze, then looked to the ether that covered the space like a blanket. The scant bit of light from the man’s flashlight did little to reveal the contents within.
The light trained on the single, large-plastic window molded inside the door. Sarah backed away, feeling with her hand again through the blinding darkness.
The tips of her fingers traced the smooth, warm surface of the wall. She walked faster, breathing heavier from the tension that twisted her nerves. Her hand wrapped over the stock of the shotgun tighter, if that was possible.
The wall ended.
Sarah felt past the corner and waved her hand at the empty space. The light shone her way. She slipped around the corner as the door swung open.
Her lips clamped shut, sealing off any panic that tried to escape her mouth. She shouldered the shotgun and pressed her trigger finger against the side of the trigger guard.
The door hit the wall with a dense thud. The footfalls squeaked across the floor. The bright beam of the flashlight roamed about the enclosed space.
Steel carts lined the back wall. Red milk crates sat in towering leaning rows next to the flatbed carriers. Racks sat empty with only a few items populating the shelves.
The light creeped closer to the edge of the wall where Sarah stood. She took another step back. The pack nudged something on the wall. A low, muffled, scrapping sound filled her ears. She clenched her jaw in anger and kept her gaze focused ahead.
The man stopped shy of the corner. She could see the dirt and mud caked on top of his thick-soled boots. The pistol swept the carts and steel racks.
Her finger moved over the trigger. She calmed her breathing as much as she could, waiting and watching to see what the man did next.
He took a step forward.
Sarah pulled against the trigger a hair more, but didn’t fire.
He turned away
