A/N - Thanks so very, very much to all of my beautiful reviewers! In the immortal words of LeAnn Rimes (Or whoever wrote the song) "You light up my life" ... :-P I'm glad so many people are enjoying the story, because I am having a blast writing it! I hope you like the next little installment, it's just a little filler. And don't forget, I'd love it if you could R&R!!!
Blessed Be XOXOXOXOX
Our El Dorado turned out to be a brand-spanking new Wal-Mart store that had been looking forward to its Grand Opening before the end of the World had ruined their chance of a fancy celebration. And from the looks of this small city, it had been a highly anticipated addition to a rather lacklustre shopping selection.
The store was untouched, untainted… It hadn't been desecrated by the filthy, stinking hands of the Infected. They weren't the sharpest tools in the shed. Anything more than a flimsy window or open door had them dumbfounded.
Inside this glorious treasure trove there was bound to be a plentiful bounty for us inside that could keep us sustained for months, if not years. This was our godsend, our saving grace, or whatever they called it.
For us, this was hope.
…We just had to get inside.
"Why can't we break a window?" Fletch grumbled, shining light on the lock that Dean was trying to pick. It had been ten minutes, and because he was an immature brat, he was getting impatient.
"Because, dumbass" Orla started. "We ain't gonna get all of this back to the hotel tonight and we don't want those Infected fucks getting in here and taking the spoils"
"Quit your goddamn complaining" Dean snapped, more than a little frustrated. My run in with the psycho vampire hadn't exactly helped with this already stressful situation. He hadn't even looked at Manny since the five of us had reconvened at the Post Office where we'd left the vehicles, and he hadn't let me out of his sight. The others had been given the task of moving the vehicles to the Wal-Mart while Dean patched me up.
Nothing I'd said had managed to wipe the scowl from his handsome face.
I sat on the hood of the pick up, nursing my head in my hands. The headache pounding painfully inside my bruised skull was starting to get on my last nerve. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep for a week.
Manny stood off to one side, smoking with his head bowed. I could almost feel the guilt rolling off him in thick, black waves. But he wouldn't listen to anything I had to say, no matter how many times I told him that I didn't blame him for what had happened.
The dynamic of our group felt like it was unravelling, and I was afraid there was nothing I could do to stop it. All we had in this World was each other, and if we fell apart…
I couldn't even think about it.
There was a resonant click, and the heavy door swung open.
"Happy?" Dean said, standing and glaring at Fletch, a thunderous expression on his face.
I eased myself off the pick up and started towards him, ready to step in if things turned violent.
"Easy, man" Fletch smiled uneasily, hands raised in a sign of surrender.
"Dean, please" I said softly, laying my hand on his arm. I could feel the tension pulsing through his body.
He shoved his lock-pick kit into his pocket and looked at me, his eyes taking in the deep blue bruise forming around my left eye. He softened instantly.
"I'm sorry" he said with a sigh, brushing his fingers roughly through his hair. "It's just…"
"Hey, no need to explain, man" Fletch grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "None of us want to see Princess kick the bucket. I mean, she's got the whole minxy red curls and banging body…"
And with that, the tension between everyone dissipated as we all enjoyed a laugh.
"I really am sorry, Dean" Manny said, flicking his smoke into the shadows. "I tried…"
"It's OK" Dean patted him on the back, a gesture of forgiveness amongst men. "I know it wasn't your fault. I just get a little crazy when it comes to my girl"
"OK, enough with the chick flick moment" Orla huffed impatiently. "Can we get this show on the road? I need me some freaking chocolate"
And with that, we stepped into the store.
The stench of death that assaulted us was so strong I puked. And it wasn't pretty.
I was followed by Orla, Fletch and Manny. Only Dean kept his cool.
I didn't know whether to be impressed or disturbed.
"The fuck is that?" Manny gagged. Poor Fletch was still bringing up the contents of his stomach.
"That, my friends, is the stink of a rotting corpse" Dean said, slipping his sawn-off shotgun from his belt. "Maybe more than one"
"I don't even wanna ask how you know that" Orla winced as she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.
I held the Coleman lamp up in front of us and looked around. We were in the loading bay. And pallets of stock were lined up as far as the eye could see.
"Holy Mother of a …" Fletch gasped, lowering himself down onto a nearby half-pallet of talcum powder and cloth nappies. "We have hit the goddamn mother load"
"You guys stay here" Dean said, cocking his gun. "I'm gonna go see if I can find what's making that stink"
"No, we go together" I exclaimed, the sound echoing loudly in the acoustics of the loading bay. "What if it's an Infected? Another vampire? A goddamn freaking demon? We go together"
Dean looked at me, and for a moment I thought he was going to argue with me, not that it would have been the first time. But, instead, he nodded.
"OK" he said. "We go together"
"First things first" Manny interjected, pulling a hunting knife from his belt. He used it to cut open the pallet Fletch was sitting on, and handed everyone a white cloth nappy.
"I'm not expecting to shit myself, Manny" Fletch laughed.
"It's for the smell, jackass"
Feeling kind of silly, all of us, except Dean, tied the nappies around the lower halves of our faces. I was pleased to find the stench diminish enough to be tolerable.
"Stay close" Dean said, leading us across the concrete floor to the swinging plastic doors that had been smeared with bloody handprints. "Shoot first, ask questions later. Got it?"
And with that, we stepped into the store.
