Read Grace Lost Online

Authors: M. Lauryl Lewis

Tags: #Fiction, #Horror

Grace Lost (4 page)

BOOK: Grace Lost
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 I nodded.  

“You’ll do best if you hold it
with both hands.  Keep steady, aim by looking down the sight.  Take a
deep breath, exhale halfway, and then hold your breath while you fire. 
Once you’re sure your aim is steady, that’s when you squeeze the trigger. 
Don’t hesitate, just squeeze.  And keep your eyes open.  If you close
your eyes your aim will be off.”  I was already overwhelmed. 
“There’s ammo in the clip and I’ll teach you how to get a bullet into the
chamber later on.  It’s going to kick when you fire, but you’ll get used
to it.  Go ahead and just hold it up and aim in front of the car to get
used to the sight.  Just don’t actually shoot yet.”

I held the pistol in my right
hand, lifted it toward the windshield, and held my left hand to my right wrist
for support.  It felt heavy.  Nothing about it felt right.

“Now close one eye and look down
the sight on top.  Aim at that lone fir tree in the field to your right.”

I did as instructed.

“Try to keep your arms steady.”

I took a deep breath, and exhaled
slowly trying to steady my arms.  It wasn’t easy in a moving car. 
The sight bounced no matter what I did.

“Boggs.”

“Hmm?”

“We’ve been driving for over an
hour.  I really need to pee.”

“Ok.  I’m stopping. 
When I do, you go first.  I’ll hold the gun and cover you.”

The car slowed and came to a stop
in the middle of the highway. There wasn’t much to speak of in sight. 
Boggs put his right hand on my left arm, catching my attention.

“Once I unlock the doors, get
out.  Don’t wander from the car.  Just squat and pee here, ok?”

“Just don’t watch,” I said.

He pushed the unlock button, and I
opened my door and stepped out.  The breeze had turned to strong wind
gusts, and the heat of the asphalt hit me like the thermal from a just opened
oven door.  I untied my shorts and pulled them down to my ankles and followed
with my panties. I squatted there with my door still open.  It took
several long moments before my bladder would release itself.  It took
longer for the stream to
finish,
my body finally
setting free the coffee, ice cream, and beer from the morning.  I stood
and pulled my pants back up.  I looked over to Boggs to tell him I was
done, and caught him looking at me. 
Typical man.

“Your turn, Boggs,” I said without
enthusiasm.  The muscles in my body were beginning to feel the stress from
the day along with the confines of the Explorer.  My hip was starting to
throb.

Boggs set the handgun on top of
the car and gently pushed it to within my reach.   He faced away from
the car while doing his business.  I scanned the horizon watching for
danger.  It looked like any normal day in the Pacific Northwest. 
Dark clouds were rolling in from the south and there was an electric charge to
the air.

“There’s a storm coming, Boggs,” I
said while looking up at the sky.

“Looks like a big one,” he
replied.  “We should get moving.  Nothing here feels right and the
tank’s low.  There’s a gas station a mile or so up the highway.  I
used to stop there on my way to the university.”

Boggs picked up the Kahr and got
back into the driver’s seat.  I joined him, and locked the doors. 
The engine was still running, and the car lurched forward when put into
drive.  The next three quarters of a mile were uneventful as we drove in
silence.  The mountains loomed in the distance to the east, their jagged
tops hidden by the gray cloud cover.  We saw human figures dotting the
land from time to time, all walking or crawling in awkward and unnatural
motions.  The highway veered to the east and the ARCO station came into
view.  There was an old condemned farmhouse in the backdrop of the newer
convenience store.  Its green paint was fading and peeling.  The
windows were boarded in graffiti covered plywood.  Blackberry bushes had
laid claim to the backside of the old house, seemingly trying to pull it into
the earth.  Boggs pulled the car to a slow stop in front of a pump marked
“4” and shut the engine off.

“Zo, I’m going to try the gas
pump.  I need you to watch my back, and if I have to go inside I want you
to lock yourself in the car.”

“No way, Boggs,” I said adamantly.

Boggs shushed me.  “No arguments,
Zoe.  Just watch the parking lot.”  He unlocked the doors and stepped
out, grabbing the wallet out of his back pocket.  I got out of the car and
stood on the running board to get a better view. I looked over to see my friend
sliding twenty dollar bills through the self-pay center next to the pump. 
He waited for a few seconds then stepped back to the car. He gave me a “thumbs
up,” put the nozzle into the gas tank, and set the latch for automatic filling.
He walked over to me and leaned his back against the passenger door.

“I think I should go inside,
Zo.  See if they have a TV or radio.  Heck, see if there’s anyone in
there.  We’re lucky the power’s on and the pumps are working.”

“I want to come with,
Boggs.”  He looked at me and shook his head in a gesture of ‘no.’
  Before
he could say the word, though, I spoke
up.  “Listen!” I raised my voice as much as I dared.  “It’s always
safer in numbers.  In the movies the people who die are always the ones
who split up.”  He looked at me in disbelief that I had said something so
ridiculous.

“Ok, Zoe. But we’re in and out in
five minutes or less.  No screwing around.  If
there’s
any of those
things
inside we shoot to kill and leave.  And
stay behind me.”

“Agreed.”

“I’m going to drive around to the
front window and we can start by just looking in.  I want the car close by
so we can get out fast.”

“’Kay.
 
Fair enough.”

The sound of the gas pump clicking
signaled the tank was full.  Boggs walked around and put the pump handle
back on its hook, screwed the cap back on the tank, and we both got back into
the car.  It roared to life and we crept forward to peek into the large
glass windows of the convenience store.  Not seeing any movement, Boggs
parked in front of the double doors marked “enter” and “exit.”  He shut
the motor off and we looked at each other.  “You ready?” he asked.

“Ya.
  Let’s do it.”

“Five minutes or less,” he
reminded me.

“Five or less,” I echoed and took
a deep breath.

Boggs took the gun and went
first.  I followed close behind.  I randomly wondered if the Slushy
machine was working.

We both peered in through the
slightly darkened windows, shading our faces with our hands to avoid the glare
from the glass.  The lights within flickered a few times, but nothing else
seemed amiss aside from the lack of people milling about.

As Boggs opened the door we heard
the traditional
ding!
din
g
!
that
such stores are known for.  It caused us to
pause, afraid of what might be around to react to our announced arrival. 
The lights continued to flicker at irregular intervals.  Behind the
counter, mounted to the ceiling, was a silenced TV with vertical rainbow
stripes.  After a quick walk through the store to make sure the aisles
were clear, Boggs slid behind the forbidden pony wall that was meant to keep
customers away from the cash register and cigarettes.  I gazed around the
store waiting for monsters to come out of nooks and crannies while Boggs rifled
through drawers searching for useful things.  He pocketed something, but I
wasn’t able to see what it was.  I figured if it was important he’d let me
know.  He pointed a black remote control at the TV to change channels.

“Anything?”
I whispered.

He motioned me over.

“There’s no sound on the damn
thing but there’s a message on channel four.” 

I joined him behind the counter
and peered up at the small screen.  The background was red, and in white
lettering there was a scrolling message that didn’t make much sense.

Code status
fifteen.
Northwest/Northeast.
Protocols seven and thirty.
Full
containment measures.
 

“That’s it?” I asked.

Boggs sighed and crossed his
arms.  “Let’s grab a few things and get out of here.  I want to put
distance between us and civilization.”

We walked the aisles, grabbing
random items.  I was always a sucker for Doritos and figured a bag would
be ok.  Of all the things we could have used, I grabbed a sack of chips, a
can of bean dip, and shoved four packs of M&M’s into my pockets. 
Boggs headed back to the counter for a plastic sack and filled it with aspirin,
matches, bandages, and a small sack of BBQ briquettes.  He looked at my
junk food and rolled his eyes.

“Classy, Zo, classy.” 

Before he could hassle me anymore,
a loud THUD came from the front window, causing me to drop my
preservative-laced feast.  Boggs dropped his plastic sack and reached for
the Kahr.  The beast that was flinging himself against the windows looked
like he was in his late teens and had greasy brown hair and piercings in his
lower lip, left eyebrow, and nose.  His left cheek hung loosely from his face
and he still had a tourniquet around his right arm with a needle dangling
precariously.  His pants were bloodied and chunks of flesh were missing
from his bare chest, leaving gaping blackened craters that still oozed.  A
large ragged wound ran the length of his left side and around to his abdomen
where loops of bowel hung in a soupy, bloody mess.  I swallowed the vomit
that tried to force its way up my throat and backed farther into the store
while Boggs took a protective stance in front of me.  The druggie was
closer to the Explorer now, having moved toward the doors.  A second and
third corpse emerged from around the corner to join their mutilated and very
much dead friend.  The woman looked older and was naked except for old
tennis shoes that had no laces.  Her right thigh was eaten away to the
bone and her lower jaw was missing.   Her swollen and bloodied tongue
hung stiffly from where her mouth should be.  Bringing up the rear was a
short man who was equally wide as tall.  He wore a bowtie that was hidden
almost in full by his triple chin and his suit jacket looked like it must have
once been beige, but was now covered in dirt and blood.  His chest was
bare, a sickly shade of blue-gray. His boxers were around his ankles causing
him to shuffle slowly on his bare feet.  Around his right forearm was a
belt cinched tight, his arm ending in a bloody stump at the wrist.  
His genitals had been eaten away and bite marks ran the length of his inner
thighs.

“Zoe, stay back!” Boggs shouted as
he aimed his Kahr at the naked woman who was now pressing into the doors,
causing them to open.

We heard the telltale
ding!
ding
!
again
.  The bell
announcing new customers was joined with unholy moans and followed by the sound
of a gunshot from outside.  The fat man fell, the back of his head blown
off and now splattered on the window to our left.  The mass of skull,
brain, and hair seemed to be suspended, and then slowly made a trail of black
ooze as gravity caused it to slide down the glass until it finally dropped out
of sight.

Another gunshot momentarily
deafened me, this time coming from Boggs’ gun. The naked woman was hit in her
bare shoulder and fell to the ground, landing in a contorted manner on her
side. She twisted her fallen body and stood again.  She began to walk away
from the store seemingly interested in something new.  A fourth figure
emerged, holding a shotgun aimed at the woman.  The sky had darkened and
rain began to fall heavily as the sky flashed white.  The sound of the
shotgun firing was echoed by that of thunder as the woman’s body dropped once
again, now minus the top of her head. She didn’t get up this time around.

“Boggs!”
I screamed.  The teenager was inside the store now
and moving toward us.  His snarls and moans were met by thunder, and his
stench mingled with that of fresh rain meeting oil on the long-dry summer
pavement.

Boggs lifted the handgun and
looked down the sight.  Another thunderous gunshot and the teenager stood
still, no longer advancing.  There was a black hole in the middle of his
forehead.  His body slumped to the mat that was meant to catch debris from
shoes.  He was finally at rest.

We watched as the man with the
shotgun moved toward us.  His weapon was lifted toward the sky as a sign
of intent to do no harm, and it was clear by his speed and agility that he was
human. 
One of us.

He was in his late thirties or
early forties, I’d guess, and dressed in jeans and a button up shirt.  On
his hands were fingerless black gloves, and he was topped by a black felt cowboy
hat.

“Zoe, put your hands up so he
knows we’re not a threat.”

I did as instructed, following the
stance Boggs took.  The cowboy came to the door, his hands also
outstretched in a human gesture.

Boggs called out to him through
the door that still stood propped open by the fallen teen.  “We’re
human.  There are two of us.  Don’t shoot!”

BOOK: Grace Lost
2.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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