In the Lone and Level Sands (6 page)

An elderly woman approached Jordan’s lane.
She parked her cart a few feet in and buried her head in her purse.
Other customers tried to get in line behind her. Some waited a few
seconds before giving up and trying quicker routes. The old woman
withdrew a handful of coupons and fumbled with them for a while.
Finally, she pulled three ragged slips of paper out of the bunch,
stuffed the others back into her purse, and looked up.

“Sir? Are you open?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jordan said. The woman pushed
her cart to Jordan’s register. Slowly, she began lifting items out
one at a time. Jordan ran each item over the scanner, and finally
the cart was empty except for a bag of dog food at the bottom.

“Do you have a gun for this?” the old woman
asked. “I’m afraid I can’t lift—” A brief fit of coughs cut her
off. She used a dirty-white handkerchief to stifle them. “I’m sorry
about that.”

Jordan leaned over the counter, aimed the
scan gun at the bag of dog food, and pulled the trigger. “Thank
you,” the old woman said, her voice barely audible over a recorded
announcement, courtesy of John Kensington. He was advertising a
sale in the Ferrington bakery department.

“No problem.” Jordan glanced at the screen,
then totaled the order. “It’ll be $14.97, please.” The woman fished
around in her purse again, this time for her checkbook, and
eventually produced it.

After the old woman finished writing her
check, she handed it to Jordan. When it was done processing, he
handed her the receipt. “There you go, ma’am,” Jordan said. “Have a
good day.” The old woman nodded and shoved the receipt into her
black hole of a purse. She turned her cart and headed for the
exit.

It was nearing seven when Jordan’s line
finally began to dwindle. Jordan grinned as a checker at another
register pantomimed blowing his brains out with a gun crafted from
his own hand. With his other hand he made the splatter effect.

Know what you mean!
Jordan
mouthed.

Evelyn’s voice popped up behind him.
“Jordan.” He turned around as she was approaching.

“Yeah?”

“Are you ready for your break?” Evelyn
brushed a wisp of reddish-brown hair out of her eyes.

“Sure, why not?” Jordan smiled, signed off
the register, and headed toward the food court.

Once he paid for his pizza and drink, Jordan
headed upstairs and sat at the middle of three round tables under
the bright lights of the break room. They were just as bright as
those on the main floor of the Ferrington, but didn’t bother him as
much. There was something special about the break room; nothing
seemed to upset Jordan within it.

Jordan’s phone vibrated, and the polyphonic
version of “Below” by Kanatran blasted from its speaker. Jordan
smiled when he realized it was Ashley. He answered the phone.

“Hey, Ash. What’s up?”

“Not much. I figured you’d be on break about
now. It’s cute that you have your little break schedule.” She
laughed. Jordan followed. “So, how’s work?”

“A pain. Hey, when are you coming up to the
Fuckington?”

“Soon. Mom’s not home from work yet, and
since Dad’s still in St. Louis, I can’t get around. I’ll be up
there before nine, for sure. Don’t worry, Jordan.”

“Then I’ll make sure to be at my post,”
Jordan said.

“Hey, Jordan. I have to get off here. Mom’s
calling. Maybe she’s close. We’ll talk soon.”

She giggled a little, the giggle that Jordan
only heard when she was talking to
him
.

“Later, Ash.”

He pressed “End”, set the phone down, and
picked up his second slice of pizza.

While the break room was a place of
sanctuary, it was also a realm in which time moved at warp speeds.
The moment he sank his teeth into the pizza, the timer on the light
switch twanged softly behind him, and the light went off, leaving
just the dim, orange glow from the setting sun outside the
window.

Jordan blinked a few times, waiting for his
eyes to readjust, and finished his pizza with the inevitable end to
his break in sight. He tried to focus on the idea of seeing Ashley
later on.

I need to ask her out… Damn. When am I going
to? Someone’s gonna snap her up if I don’t make a move soon.

Jordan stood up to clear his area. Another
break had ended, and it was time for his nose to touch the old
grindstone once again.

****

It was 8:35, and Ashley was all that
occupied Jordan’s mind, as she was probably in the aisles
somewhere. He glanced out at the ten-foot stretch of space between
the checkout lanes and the aisles and saw her walk by, holding a
basket, looking at a list and then looking aimlessly into aisle
six. Jordan’s face lit up, and he waved.

“Ash! Hey!”

Ashley turned his way and displayed her
sparkling white teeth. They alone were enough to light the entire
store.

“Jordan!” Ashley approached his register.
“Hey, where are you people hiding the frozen appetizers? I couldn’t
find them anywhere.” She playfully rolled her eyes, and Jordan
stepped off his post.

“I’ll lead you in their direction, ma’am,”
Jordan said. He walked around the express counter and joined Ashley
by her side, pointing toward the freezer section.

“Hey, I’m too young to be called ‘ma’am’!”
She laughed, and snorted, making Jordan laugh harder. They walked
about halfway into aisle nine, and Jordan opened a frosty door and
withdrew a red-and-white striped box.

“You done shopping?” Jordan asked. He tossed
the box into Ashley’s basket.

Ashley briefly studied her list and then
said, “Not yet. I have to pick up some milk, butter, bread, and
Lima beans… Ew on that last one, man!” She pinched her eyes shut
and stuck out her tongue.

“I second that. Yuck!”

Ashley’s Lima bean look melted back into a
carefree smile. “Well, I’ll be done here soon.”

“Sweet. I’ll be waiting for you on express,
Ash.” Jordan turned back. His once-abandoned register now had a
customer unloading his groceries. Jordan walked around to the
register, typed in his password, and began ringing up the
customer’s order.

After the customer carted his purchases off,
a woman pushed her cart into Jordan’s line. It was stuffed with a
good fifty items, and Jordan stared in awe for a moment.

“Ma’am, this is an express lane,” he said.
There were three or four people in the average shift who came to
the ten-and-under lane with more items, and Jordan’s patience for
them was thin.

“I see you standing there with no one going
through your lane,” the woman said, “while the other registers are
backed up to hell. They’re not budging, so you can help me
here!”

“Yeah, but I’m standing here waiting for
customers who have
ten or less
,” Jordan said. The woman
proceeded to toss her groceries onto the counter one at a time,
moving nearly as slowly as the elderly lady from earlier in the
night. She was red in the face.

“You are by
far
the worst checker I
have ever seen here. Just terrible! Can’t even make one exception.
I’ll have you know, your manager will be hearing about your
attitude! Where is he?”

“
She
is on break,” Jordan said. The
woman grunted, but didn’t go deeper into the matter. She continued
throwing groceries onto the counter as two more customers appeared
in line behind her.

A few items shy of a fourth of her order
remained in the cart. As the woman lifted a bag of frozen peas in
one pudgy hand and a box of cereal in the other, she froze in
place. Her arms drooped, her grip loosened, and the food fell to
the floor. The fire left her eyes, along with all other signs of
consciousness. She stared off and didn’t make a sound.

“Hello?” Jordan said. “Are you okay?” The
woman didn’t reply. Jordan looked at the other express checker,
clueless.

“What’s wrong with her?” the checker
asked.

“No idea,” Jordan said. He waved a hand in
front of her face and called out to her again. “Hey!”

The woman’s eyes didn’t even follow his
hand. The customer behind her slid his cart forward and tapped her
leg with it. The woman lost all balance, tumbled to the ground, and
lay by her fallen groceries. The man’s eyes widened, and his face
instantly turned red.

“What the hell?” he said. “I barely touched
her. What in God’s name is wrong with her?”

Jordan shook his head, and went around the
counter. Several other customers surrounded the scene. Evelyn
rushed across the front of the store as Jordan called for help.

“I called an ambulance, they’re on their
way,” another customer said.

“Jessica, Calvin,” Evelyn said to the
checkers on nine and ten. “Let’s get these customers through the
line. Bradley, come sit with this woman until the ambulance gets
here.”

Jordan fetched two chairs from the area in
front of the First Bank of Gladstone. Not long after Bradley sat
down beside the woman, she turned her head slowly toward him and
made a small sighing sound.

“Huh?” Bradley said, startled at first, and
then he smiled. “Ma’am?”

“Ahh,” the woman said. Her eyes were wide,
as if she were surprised. She leaned a few inches closer to
Bradley.

“Hey, I think she’s okay,” Bradley called to
Evelyn. The woman opened her mouth, lunged toward Bradley, and
latched onto his neck. He screamed as she pushed her teeth into his
skin and muscle.

A nearby customer came to help. “Get the
fuck off him!” The customer grabbed the woman, wrapping his thick
arms around her flabby torso and heaving with all his might. The
woman began grunting irritably, with blood spewing out of her
mouth. She released Bradley’s neck and dug into the man’s forearm,
and he screamed, throwing her down. Panic spread through the front
end, and then a scream from some pocket of the store made its way
up to the front. Some people turned around to see where it had come
from, but some couldn’t take their eyes off the scene ahead. Evelyn
was helping Bradley with his wound. The big man’s wife had rushed
up, dropping a loaf of bread on her way.

Some customers that had been walking the
front end decided to abandon their carts and flee the store. People
ran through the lines as quickly as possible, and some sprinted out
with their groceries, not having paid. Tony Greco, the manager of
perishables, ran after a man who was trying to steal a cartload. A
few checkers left their stations, and one was knocked over by a
crowd of customers. They didn’t seem to care as they trampled him
to get through the lane and toward the exit. A small group of
people surrounded another customer near the greeting card aisle and
began to tear into him with their hands and teeth.

Jordan thought of Ashley. Where was she in
this mess? He didn’t know what to do as he scanned the area.
Frightened people ran toward both exits. Jordan saw Evelyn move
away from Bradley, screaming. He fell out of the chair, trying to
grab her, the same vacant look in his eyes.

“H-he’s one of them, too!” Evelyn said.

An announcement for the coming July 4th sale
blared over the intercom, managing to combat the screams. The man
behind the voice, John Kensington, had ducked behind the customer
service counter.

The big man who’d been bitten was standing
with his wife. She used a part of her elaborate outfit as a
tourniquet, but screamed when her husband began biting into
her.

“What the fuck is this?” Jordan said. He and
Evelyn joined John Kensington behind the customer service counter,
away from the main flow of people, which was starting to thin out.
Some of those who were fleeing the store had blood on them. After a
moment, Erin ducked behind the counter as well.

“We have to get somewhere safe,” Evelyn
said.

“We don’t want to go out there,” John said.
“We’ll likely get killed out in the parking lot.”

“Why do you say that?” Erin asked.

“I saw those things out there. They were
eating people—the same things in here. The same ones that’ll eat us
for dessert if we stay behind this counter whispering to each
other!”

Jordan’s phone buzzed. John glanced down and
sneered. “You’ve got your phone with you while working?”

“John, you’re seriously worried about that
now?” Jordan shook his head and pulled his phone from his pocket.
It was a text from Ashley, and he sighed with relief, until he read
the message.

Please Jordan! I’m over behind the meat
counter! I can’t come out the meat guy attacked a man in front of
the meat case!

“What was that?” Evelyn looked down at the
phone as Jordan responded to Ashley’s text message.

“It’s a friend,” Jordan said. “She’s trapped
behind the meat counter. We need to find her and get out of
here!”

“First,” John said, rolling his eyes at the
announcement that blared over the intercom (“Buy one, get one free
in the bakery today. A dozen cookies, buy one for $2.99…”), “we
need a plan.”

Jordan leaned over to the left a bit,
peering through a break in the counter. He saw blood spilled in
several places. People were still making their way out. Those who
weren’t were eating other people. Jordan turned back around and
looked at the others.

A few gunshots rang across the store. The
group squatted, frozen. Moments later, Jordan spotted a customer
emerge from aisle seven with a gun in his hand. The man shot
Jordan’s last customer as she bumbled toward him, then he shot
Bradley, and a few other people who had changed. Even Tony Greco
had changed by then, and the man from aisle seven offed him as
well. Then he spotted the four of them behind the counter and
approached.

He was rough-looking; from his chin sprouted
a graying, unkempt goatee that was surrounded by white stubble. He
wore a do-rag with the American flag on it over his coarse gray
hair, and a worn-out leather biker jacket. He peered at Jordan and
the others through squinted hazel eyes. Jordan had met the man in
the store a few times before, so he was the first to get to his
feet.