glanced at Kate with a self-congratulatory smirk. Was he looking for a laugh? Trying to impress her? Seriously?
What a jackass.
She ignored his attempt at humor. “Is there a back way out of here? I saw earlier that you’ve got a back door and a loading dock. You got cameras on those?”
He nodded, pursing his lips and squinting doubtfully.
“The back door opens into an alley, with a ten foot cement wall directly in front of it-it’s a bottleneck. There are about ten or twenty of them milling around back there. It’s no good.”
“And the loading dock?”
Shaking his head, he replied, “Might work if the dock door wasn’t jammed. There’s even a truck parked in there from a late delivery a few nights back. But the automated gate mechanism went haywire after the truck made its drop. Wouldn’t come up on automation. On manual, we could get it up part way, but not high enough to get the truck out.”
“Jesus. So you’re telling me we either sit tight here and wait for our new friends, head into the back alley dead end and try to scale a cement wall, or try to get your truck out of the dock with a screwy gate? Not a lot of options here. What about the roof?”
This wasn’t turning out at all as I had hoped.
“No go there, either. Roof access is through the garden center.” He grinned. “But you’re welcome to try it.”
“You first.”
“Oh, real witty,” he said, “they teach you that in janitor school?”
“Look guys,” Kate interrupted, looking between us, the urgency in her voice matching the concern on her face, “I hate to bust up this cerebral debate, but we don’t have a lot of time here. We need to pick a route and go with it. From where I’m standing, it’s looking like truck and expressway or bust.”
She looked to both of us.
I nodded.
“Good,” she said, looking to Earl. “We need some supplies. Sleeping bags, that kind of stuff. Where to?”
“Camping supplies, in sporting goods. That’s where I got this,” patting his ax. “Canned goods back the way you came. Water too. I’ll meet you at the dock door, past the fitting rooms in the back.”
I grabbed Fred, nodded at Kate, and started toward the sporting goods section. Fred followed behind, straggling, but keeping up. Grabbing a large hiking backpack, a hunting knife, a hatchet and an ax, I sprinted back to the food. I threw cans, five or six liters of spring water, some cereal bars, and a couple boxes of wheat crackers into the bag. I cinched it shut and threw it over my shoulder heading back through electronics, pausing as I passed a display case of handheld radios. I grabbed a package of two-ways, and made my way back toward Fred. He waited for me anxiously in sporting goods and we went together to the fitting rooms, reaching the door to the dock as Kate rounded the corner by lady’s lingerie, toting a similar backpack, having also switched out her shovel but choosing instead a softball bat to supplement the pistol she had in her pocket.
“Earl?” I asked, looking around.
“Behind me,” she was breathless. “They’re through the fence, and they’re at the barricade.”
Earl raced through the baby clothes section, tubby paunch exploding into the aisle beside her at a breathless jog.
“Move! They’re in!” His exclamation was punctuated by the sound of tumbling furniture from the garden center.
I bolted for the dock door, slamming my hands into the bar across the exit door and throwing it open. Massive shelves stocked high with all manner of items surrounded a paved, three-sided indentation, deeper on our side, and inclining gently upward to a large metal gate. Parked in that bunker was our redemption; our vehicular messiah masquerading as a delivery truck. Its back door was open and it was partly unloaded. Twenty or so large cardboard boxes sat lonely and unopened against the cab wall.
Earl ran past me, breathing heavily, making for the driver’s seat. Kate went for the passenger side, opening
What a jackass.
She ignored his attempt at humor. “Is there a back way out of here? I saw earlier that you’ve got a back door and a loading dock. You got cameras on those?”
He nodded, pursing his lips and squinting doubtfully.
“The back door opens into an alley, with a ten foot cement wall directly in front of it-it’s a bottleneck. There are about ten or twenty of them milling around back there. It’s no good.”
“And the loading dock?”
Shaking his head, he replied, “Might work if the dock door wasn’t jammed. There’s even a truck parked in there from a late delivery a few nights back. But the automated gate mechanism went haywire after the truck made its drop. Wouldn’t come up on automation. On manual, we could get it up part way, but not high enough to get the truck out.”
“Jesus. So you’re telling me we either sit tight here and wait for our new friends, head into the back alley dead end and try to scale a cement wall, or try to get your truck out of the dock with a screwy gate? Not a lot of options here. What about the roof?”
This wasn’t turning out at all as I had hoped.
“No go there, either. Roof access is through the garden center.” He grinned. “But you’re welcome to try it.”
“You first.”
“Oh, real witty,” he said, “they teach you that in janitor school?”
“Look guys,” Kate interrupted, looking between us, the urgency in her voice matching the concern on her face, “I hate to bust up this cerebral debate, but we don’t have a lot of time here. We need to pick a route and go with it. From where I’m standing, it’s looking like truck and expressway or bust.”
She looked to both of us.
I nodded.
“Good,” she said, looking to Earl. “We need some supplies. Sleeping bags, that kind of stuff. Where to?”
“Camping supplies, in sporting goods. That’s where I got this,” patting his ax. “Canned goods back the way you came. Water too. I’ll meet you at the dock door, past the fitting rooms in the back.”
I grabbed Fred, nodded at Kate, and started toward the sporting goods section. Fred followed behind, straggling, but keeping up. Grabbing a large hiking backpack, a hunting knife, a hatchet and an ax, I sprinted back to the food. I threw cans, five or six liters of spring water, some cereal bars, and a couple boxes of wheat crackers into the bag. I cinched it shut and threw it over my shoulder heading back through electronics, pausing as I passed a display case of handheld radios. I grabbed a package of two-ways, and made my way back toward Fred. He waited for me anxiously in sporting goods and we went together to the fitting rooms, reaching the door to the dock as Kate rounded the corner by lady’s lingerie, toting a similar backpack, having also switched out her shovel but choosing instead a softball bat to supplement the pistol she had in her pocket.
“Earl?” I asked, looking around.
“Behind me,” she was breathless. “They’re through the fence, and they’re at the barricade.”
Earl raced through the baby clothes section, tubby paunch exploding into the aisle beside her at a breathless jog.
“Move! They’re in!” His exclamation was punctuated by the sound of tumbling furniture from the garden center.
I bolted for the dock door, slamming my hands into the bar across the exit door and throwing it open. Massive shelves stocked high with all manner of items surrounded a paved, three-sided indentation, deeper on our side, and inclining gently upward to a large metal gate. Parked in that bunker was our redemption; our vehicular messiah masquerading as a delivery truck. Its back door was open and it was partly unloaded. Twenty or so large cardboard boxes sat lonely and unopened against the cab wall.
Earl ran past me, breathing heavily, making for the driver’s seat. Kate went for the passenger side, opening
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