The deep voiced man rounded the corner of the aisle near his fallen partner. He plowed through the spilt food on the ground, knocking it against the base of the shelves.
The woman pulled the shotgun toward her, bringing Sarah off the shelf, then slammed her back. The pack cushioned the blow. The steel shelves rattled under the impact. What food remained fell to the floor.
Sarah kneed the woman in her side, then twisted the shotgun. Her hold lessened, then released the weapon as she doubled over. Sarah smacked her in the side of the head with the stock, knocking her to the floor.
The woman hit hard, palming her face and moaning. She rolled to her side, then sat up.
“Stay down.” Sarah rammed her shoe into the woman’s chest. “Your friends are in a cooler in the stockroom past the dairy case. I wouldn’t waste much time as they could run out of air.”
The woman grabbed Sarah’s foot and pulled. The barrel of the shotgun trained at her forehead. The woman released her shoe and stared at her with malevolent eyes.
“We’ll be seeing you soon,” she said.
“No. You won’t.” Sarah removed her foot and backed away.
Muzzle fire flashed from the corner of her eye. Sarah ducked and scrambled for cover around the corner of the shelves. The bullets trailed her, impacting the back wall.
Sarah ran hard for the receiving area, leaving behind the cart of food.
The raised voices of the woman and both men filled the food mart. She glanced over her shoulder and spotted the woman getting to her feet. Her legs wobbled, her balance unsteady as she braced her hand against the shelves. She lurched forward, palming her head while looking in Sarah’s direction.
Sarah thumbed the light to the shotgun. The beam fired at the entrance to the stockroom. The swarming flies inside the butcher’s case slapped against the window.
She skirted the corner and pushed her way through the double doors. Each side slammed the walls with a dense thump. The shotgun swept the low light for any movement within the cluttered mess.
Light from the receiving door shone in the space. She skirted the mounds of boxes and other products in her way. Her feet knocked through the litter. She glanced over her shoulder and lost her balance, stumbling toward the doors.
Sarah rushed through the doorway and out into the alley behind the grocery store. She skirted past the yellow concrete barrier near the door and made for the driver’s side of the muscle car.
She fished the keys out of the front pocket of her jeans and opened the door. The shotgun went in first, followed by the rucksack.
She watched the doorway and dropped down into the bucket seat. The key slipped into the ignition as she slammed the door closed. The engine thrummed to life.
Sarah worked the clutch and gear shift with ease. Her foot hit the gas pedal. The back tires squealed. The Chevelle lunged forward as a body materialized through the open doorway.
The angry, gruff looking man rushed the driver’s side of the car with his pistol trained ahead. She captured a quick glimpse of the scowl on his face as he reached for the door. His hand slammed the window hard.
The Chevelle raced down the alleyway at full tilt. She glanced to the rearview mirror, watching the scruffy man fire at the back end of the muscle car. The bullets punched the back window. She flinched and lowered her head. Her hands worked the steering wheel from side to side as she closed in on the street ahead.
Sarah pumped the brake and wrenched the wheel counterclockwise. The front end of the Chevelle drove through the dip in the street, slamming the chassis against the pavement. Metal scraping filled Sarah’s ears and made her cringe. Her head bobbled about as the muscle car turned onto the street at an angle.
The back end swung wide. She worked the wheel, battling the beast to straighten it out. The barrel of the shotgun leaned against the center console with the muzzle facing her. She moved it out of the way and drove toward the main road.
Sarah glanced at the front of the food mart where the plywood was. A dark-green extended cab truck sat parked at the entrance. The large off-road tires jacked the immense truck off the ground. She spotted no movement around the muddy ride.
For now, she was safe, but far from being out of harm’s way.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RUSSELL
Clyde kept to the alleys and side streets, avoiding any major roads that ran through the hot zones that brimmed with large crowds of unhinged folks.
Max trotted in front of him, nose trained to the cement. He’d pause, search the alley ahead, then continue on. At any hint of danger or something not feeling right, he would bark a warning.
“How are you holding up?” Russell asked, breathless from shouldering Cathy’s weight. He had lost track of how many blocks they had traveled so far.
The pain on Cathy’s face grew with each step they took, but she held her tongue and pushed on, setting the pace for the others. “I’m doing all right. I’ll be better once we arrive at her place. It should be coming up here any moment.”
Clyde and Max widened their lead on Russell and Cathy. They neared the end of the alleyway and stopped shy of the street. The German shepherd focused on the road with Clyde flanking him.
“It looks clear,” he said, peering over his shoulder at them.
Russell paused next to Max.
Cathy removed her arm from around Russell’s shoulder, giving him a reprieve from helping her. She placed the palm of her hand against his arm to balance herself, then looked out
