Jill ran past the cinema entrance well ahead of Nick, and when she reached the alley she turned to face him, only he wasn’t there. The rain still lashed down and the wind was battering anything taller than a Bonsai tree, and although the thunder and lightning had moved on, it could still be seen and heard rolling away in the distance.
Ten seconds later, Nick jelly-wobbled around the corner. ‘Hold up … d’ya have … d’ya have to run so fast? I’m just about … to have … a coronary.’
‘The rain isn’t going to last forever, Nick, we have to keep moving,’
Bent over at the waist, and resting his left hand on the cinema wall, Nick lifted his right. ‘Give me a minute, huh? Just till I catch … my breath.’
‘Okay, you wait here, I’ll see if there’s a way in around back. When you’ve recovered, please ... feel free to join me.’
‘Sure, you go ahead; I’ll be fine … in just a minute or two.’
Leaving him to get over his fifty-yard trot, Jill turned away and headed for the back of the stores. The first door she happened upon wasn’t acctually a door. It had been at one time, but since bricked over. She moved on. The second, or the middle one of the three, was a delapidated wooden door, with only a small padlock keeping out any would-be intruders.
Around her feet were plenty of rocks, and all varying in size, choosing one suitable enough, she commenced striking the padlock. After three solid hits, it dropped to the floor allowing the door to swing open a couple of inches. Jill placed her sprawled-out finger-tips on the wet wood and pushed, the door swung open to about three-quarters of its maximum, only stopping when its bottom edge caught the floor. A damp, musty, decaying odour, wafted from within the room, reminding her of Chambers, but this time, the stench just about sufferable.
She withdrew her gun before entering the room, and then proceeded with caution. The back part of the store was without windows, the only light she had, coming from behind. To her immediate left stood a waist-high, narrow worktop, she felt along its length to find nothing but dust. At the end of the worktop was a white ceramic sink-unit. And after turning both taps, she found they too were dry, just like the ones in the station room.
To her right, facing the sink, sat a small dining table, tucked neatly under it were three chairs, with a fourth chair sat askew, as though someone had only just left the table. She hoped that really wasn’t the case. One spoon and a soup bowl rested at the askewed chair’s location.
The bowl was empty, but the dark stain of its age-old contents still remained. A stain she knew could only be blood, it had to be. Perhaps she should’ve waited for Nick before entering in there after all. Above the table was a row of four cupboards, which, apart from the dust and cobwebs inside them, were as barren as the taps.
On the narrow back wall now to her left, was a door leading into the heart of the store. If anyone was in the building, she’s sure that’s where they’d be. Using both thumbs to pull back the hammer on the 3.57, she moved towards the door, but the crinkle of polythene underfoot, stopped her from reaching it. She looked to see a small, clear, plastic bag. She crouched, picked it up, and wiping away the dust that covered the label, she read of its contents.
Untreated Human Blood Cells
Amount: 500ml. Type: O Rh Positive
Volunteer Donor
Single Use Only
The small, clear, plastic bag, hit the floor quicker than a sack of snakes. Jill stepped back rubbing her hands on the wet, make-shift poncho, in doing so, her heel caught something else on the floor. She looked down again to see a dog’s feeding bowl, which still contained food. She noticed something amongst the putrefied leftovers, something reflecting the light from the doorway. It looked like a ring, a diamond ring. She knew she shouldn’t, and she knew she’d be sorry if she did, but she wanted to know.
Putting her gun on the table, and then the bowl beside it, she lifted the spoon and tried extracting the ring. That’s when she found the blackened, imaciated finger it was still wrapped around. She was right, and as she’d suspected, sorry with it. Jill went back to the open door to get some well needed air, she looked about and wondered what the hell could be keeping Nick. That lot couldn’t have found him, not in this rain.
She went back for her gun, and then went to find out.
When she reached the alley where she’d left him, he wasn’t there. This trip, yet another one in the downpour for her, had been his idea, and he wasn’t even there to take part. She walked back up the alley to stand on the corner by the cinema and started to call out for him. Either he wasn’t within earshot, or her voice just couldn’t cut through the wind. Either way, he didn’t respond.
She looked along the front of the stores to see if he might be trying to gain access there, but again, there was no sign of him. Bemused by his absence, Jill shook her head and returned to the rear of the now open store without him. Either they have him, or he has a real shit sense of direction.
Withdrawing the gun one more time, she entered through the door inside the small room, being sure not to look down at her earlier discoveries as she passed the table. First she put an ear to the door, but other than the wind coming from outside and the rain beating on the floor behind her, she heard nothing. As the inner door opened it gave out a soft, dry creak. This room was much bigger, and the large window, although somewhat murky, brought in enough light for her to see by.
The three walls, left, right, and now behind, were covered with shelving, and every shelf empty. A serving counter stood in front of her, and a metal, revolving display rack, the type used to show postcards, lay on its side in the middle of the floor. Around this, lay some empty glass jars and old newspapers. The serving counter held a set of weighing scales at one end, and a dozen or so empty storage jars lined up along its front. Behind the storage jars were some tilted boxes, all without lids, all the size of shoe boxes, and all empty.
She went over to the large display window where months, or maybe even years of dust obscurred her view of the outside. She rubbed a spot clear, about the size of a dinner plate, and looked out, trying again to spot Nick. Direcly across the street was the police station where her friend, Vicky, lay. Jill dropped a heavy sigh, sparing her a few long moments before turning to leave, but as she reached the smaller room, a silhouette of someone appeared in the outer doorway.
Whoever it was, was holding something up to their eyes, a gun, someone was taking aim and she was about to be fired on. Just as she raised the 3.57 to eye-level, a silent, blinding flash, stole her vision. Jill fired her gun four times anyway, the fourth of those shots, only producing a ‘Click’.
Not knowing if she’d hit her target or not, Jill moved back inside the bigger room, concealing herself.
