“There’s five total, including myself,” he answered, less the snarky tone from before. “Is that your sweet Chevelle parked out back?”
“Turn around,” Sarah said, motioning with the shotgun and ignoring his question.
The wiry man did as requested. His eyes locked onto hers for a brief second as he faced the swinging door. The beam from the flashlight trained at his boots.
“You know if you fire that they’ll be back here before you know it. I can’t promise that you will like what will happen next,” he said, tilting his head to the side.
Sarah took a step forward, then pressed the muzzle into the mid part of his back. “Who says I’m going to fire it?”
The wiry man mouthed only a few syllables before she cracked him in the back of the skull with the stock of the shotgun. His hands dropped to his sides and his legs buckled as he crumbled to the floor. He hit hard and offered no further movement.
The flashlight slapped the concrete, then rolled away. The narrow beam shone off the wall and what stale food remained inside the stockroom.
Sarah nudged his foot with her shoe for a response. He gave none. She waited a moment longer, training the shotgun at the back of his head. He laid on the floor, sprawled out with not so much as a twitch to twist her nerves.
She stepped around his legs and bent down to grab the flashlight. The door swung open.
His partner stood in the doorway with his rifle trained at the floor. “Danny, what the hell are you–”
Sarah stood and brought the shotgun to bear.
The larger, bearded man froze. The beam from his flashlight moved from the wiry man’s unconscious body to Sarah. He lifted his rifle.
She doubled down on him. “Don’t even think about it.”
“What did you do to Danny?” He nodded at the meager man’s body.
“Just knocked him out is all before he had a chance to do anything to me,” Sarah answered in a curt manner. “Come on inside and keep that rifle pointed at the ground.”
He did as ordered and held his tongue, not asking any stupid questions or testing her resolve. The door swung past the jamb, then back again. The hinges creaked as he moved inside the storage room.
“So, you’re the one we heard in here earlier, then?” the bearded man asked, staring at her. “I don’t mean you any harm. We can remain civil here.”
Sarah tilted the barrel of the shotgun at his buddy, then back up to him. “I just want to be left alone so me and my husband can be on our way. Your friend there wouldn’t leave me be.”
“Well, you are armed with that canon and lurking in the shadows of this stock room. One must be careful in perilous times like these. You never know what someone’s intentions are,” the man said.
“My only intention at the moment is making sure you and your group don’t try anything,” Sarah shot back. “I don’t want any trouble either, but, like you said, you never know what one’s intentions are. I’d rather be cautious than stupid.” Her fingers tightened on the shotgun. “Now, place the rifle on the floor and slide it over here, nice and easy.”
The large man bent down, sat the rifle on the ground, then shoved it toward Sarah.
She stepped on the stock of the rifle, then scooted the weapon toward her. Both eyes stayed locked on him as she shoved the rifle under one of the steel racks.
The bearded man glanced down at his buddy, then looked to the swinging doors. “What now?”
Sarah grabbed the flashlight, then swept the stock room. She spotted what looked to be a large door against the far wall. “Grab him and head over that way.”
He turned and looked to where she pointed the beam. “Yeah. If you think I’m getting in there, you’re mistaken.”
“And if you think I’m giving you a choice, then you’re mistaken,” Sarah said in a snide tone. “Now grab him and move it. I don’t want to shoot you, but will if it comes down to it, so don’t test me.”
The bearded man hesitated for a second, then walked toward his friend. He bent down, grabbed both of his arms, and dragged his body across the floor.
Sarah looked at the swinging door for a second, checking for any lights outside of the door or any other sounds from their buddies. She trailed the two men, keeping the shotgun shouldered and the light trained on them.
The wiry man’s knuckles dragged along the floor. His head slumped forward, chin resting on his chest.
The bearded man eyed Sarah, then peered over his shoulder at the large door. His lips pursed under the thick, black, scraggly hairs that grew wild around his mouth. He squinted, then sighed his displeasure as he stopped and lowered his unconscious friend to the floor.
“Go on. Open the door,” Sarah said, motioning with the shotgun.
A banging noise sounded from close by. Sarah kept the shotgun trained at his torso, then glanced back toward the entrance.
“You can take what you need and leave. No one will harm you as long as you lower that shotgun,” the bearded man said, even-toned. “You have my word that no one will touch you.”
“Quiet,” Sarah said, snapping at him. “Open the door.”
He hesitated, standing still and looking at her.
Sarah took a step forward. “Don’t think for one minute that just
