The store wasn't big enough for the amount of inventorythey had on hand, so Rudy had to turn sideways to make it through some of theaisles due to all the warm beer and sodas still packed without rhyme or reasonin boxes and crates. The cold soft drinks were located in the back of thestore; along the way, he grabbed a couple of candy bars and a bag of chips.After all, what good was Code Red if you had nothing to wash down your gullet?
When he pulled the door of the cooler open, he heard thedoor chime again. He paid it no attention, as his eyes were affixed to the 20oz. plastic bottles full of glowing red liquid at the end of the store. Hegrabbed one and shoved it under his armpit. With his free hand, he grabbedanother bottle and let the door of the cooler shut on its own. The intensity ofthe door's slam over the hum of the coolers suddenly made him realize how quietthe store was.
He didn't know why he did it, but he looked up at thecircular security mirror to see the man from outside approaching his position.The man bumped some stacked six-packs of Genesee Cream Ale, knocking the greencans to the ground, but he didn't seem to care. He continued his approach. Rudylooked over his shoulder to see if the owner was visible yet, but he wasnowhere to be seen.
Rudy turned to the approaching man and said, "Hey,how's it going?" His adrenal glands had dumped their contents into hiscirculatory system, and he felt the impending doom of a fight or flight situationcoming on, as he was not especially skilled at fighting nor flighting. The mansimply looked at him, his head down and his arms outstretched towards him. Hisfingers clawed at the air.
Rudy backed up against the wall as the man slipped on acan of Genesee that he had knocked over. He tumbled forward, cracking his jawon one of the aisle's metal endcaps. There was little room to maneuver or run,so Rudy began to slide sideways down a narrow aisle that would take him to thecounter and near the front door. He was at the counter when the man in the backof the store finally got back to his feet. His jaw was crooked, and blooddripped down the front of his shirt, but he kept approaching, clumsy andplodding, but with a determination that made him seem more like a robot than aman. Rudy had images of The Terminator dancing through his head.
The man came closer, and Rudy looked at him, fearbubbling up in the back of his throat. He fumbled around in his pocket, andpulled out a twenty dollar bill. He crumpled it up and threw it on the counter."Keep the change," he yelled as he bolted for the front door, thebell again chiming.
If Rudy had bothered to walk behind the counter, he wouldhave seen the store clerk lying on the ground in his own blood, bite woundscovering his throat and arms. But Rudy didn't see him; he ran out of the store,clutching his Code Red, chocolate bars, and a bag of chips in the chill nightair.
"What the fuck is wrong with people?" hewondered aloud.
When he had reached safety, which in this case was ablock up the road, he stopped, tried to catch his breath and turned around.There was the man, still spilling blood from his nasty jaw wound, coming out ofthe door of the convenience store... nothing in his hands. His head looked one waythen the next. Upon spying Rudy, the man began a slow plod in his direction.
"Fuck." Rudy clutched his goods to his body andbegan running, something he hadn't done in a very long time. Five long stridesinto it, he already knew he wouldn't be able to keep up the pace.
Chapter 11: The Munchies
Teach lumbered down the street, clutching a dirty bar ragto the ragged wound on his shoulder. The rag wasn't completely soaked in blood,but it was getting there. He knew that he probably should have stuck around atThe Sleazy Goat, but the warmth that flooded through his body couldn't becontained. He had to be in the cool night air. Luckily, he had walked to thebar, and the brief sprinkling of rain that fell on his head was welcome relief.His head began to steam in the night air.
He wobbled side to side in his brown corduroy pants andDr. Marten's boots. His old sports jacket had pads on the elbows, and thestreetlights swam in front of his eyes. His stomach grumbled, and he started tofeel hungry. The void in his stomach felt as if it were expanding, and he beganwondering when he had become such a lightweight.
Teach toppled over a bush that seemed to pop up out ofnowhere. He dropped the towel that he had been holding over his shoulder anddidn't bother picking it up. As he shoved himself up off the ground, he noticedthat the blood from his shoulder was no longer pouring out of the wound. Hisstomach grumbled again, and he clumsily brushed himself off and began walkingagain. Eggs? Maybe he'd make himself some eggs.
He stubbed his toe on the concrete step that led up tothe porch of their two-story house. The lights inside were off. The windowsupstairs were open. What was he doing? Food? Food... food.
****
Her eyes snapped open when she heard his footsteps in thehallway. She flinched when his keys dropped to the ground. She hoped he didn'twake Kevin up. She loved her husband, but one night a month, he was a
