I started to argue, but stopped. It was me that asked him to join us. I can’t then complain that we’ll help fix the broken bones we caused. It was his fault; I’m not apologizing for that. He had the gun trained on me. A splint was the least we could do. And the most.

“We’re going into the store. Those doors don’t lock. It’s open twenty-four hours. So there’s bound to be zombies inside,” I said, thinking of the mall.

“Parking lot looks clear,” Allison said.

We were huddled close together at the edge of the shallow woods. Thick brush kept us hidden. We had a clear view of the parking lot. A few cars were in an array of spaces. Allison was right, though. No sign of zombies. Didn’t mean they weren’t close. Best I could tell though, we had a straight shot for the entrance without hurdles.

Thing that came to mind was whether we should all go, or just two of us. Once inside, we could easily be challenged, and wind up trapped. Needless to get everyone killed. At the same time, I did not want to be killed. Seemed I was the only one with somewhere to be, somewhere to go. It was my idea to get a splint and gauze. I had to be one of those entering the store.

“I’m going to go,” I said. “I want you guys to wait here.”

“I’m going with you,” Allison said.

“Us, too,” Josh volunteered.

“I’m not staying out here alone,” the kid said.

“What’s your name,” I said.

“Me?” the kid pointed at himself. “Jay. Jason.”

“All right, Jay. We’re all going to stay close. Josh, I’ll take point. I want you to follow us, but stay outside the store. Looks clear enough. But if a big group of zombies comes this way, I want you to be able to warn us with enough time to get out of the store. Know what I mean? Watch our backs.”

Josh nodded.

“Allison, I want Jay behind me. You behind him. Dave, you follow Allison.” I scanned the parking lot again. Still looked good. “We are going to run close to the building, right through the automated doors. Good?”

We left cover and crossed the delivery road that led to the back of the grocery store. My eyes felt like they were seizing, looking everywhere all at once. Surprised I didn’t get dizzy.

I’d seen Zombieland. And while it was funny seeing the two main guys banjo-playing while checking a grocery store for Zingers, I was not enjoying myself. I knew the Tops layout. Knew the First Aid supplies would be near the M&T Bank, all the way to the left. Past the checkout stations, by the beer.

We reached the entrance. “You got us?”

Josh nodded. “Go, go.”

We went through the automated doors, into the foyer with the rows of metal shopping carts, and newspaper racks, we stopped. Quick pow-wow.

“If it looks safe, Alley, I want you to hit the school supply aisle. See if you can’t grab a couple of back backs. If we can load up on some essentials while we’re here, then we should.” I was staring into her eyes. They weren’t the same as before. I wouldn’t believe it, if I wasn’t seeing it. They’d hardened. Looked cold. She was a different, stronger person. I trusted her. She’d proven herself time and again.

“I’ll take Dave,” she said.

Was a good call.

“Kid, you come with me.”

“Jay,” he said.

“Whatever. Just stay close. Right behind me, and not a sound. Alley, you make as much noise as you have to if something goes wrong,” I said.

“Got it.”

“We’ll meet back at the first check out. The one closest to the exit. Okay? Turn your radio on, Alley. Just keep the volume low.” I switched mine on, as well.

“It’s for emergencies only,” Dave said.

“Right,” I said, “let’s be quick about this.”

Around the corner was the huge shopping center. Produce and meats to the right. General groceries and seasonal items straight ahead. Frozen foods, refrigerated items and beverages, pet supplies, snacks, paper goods, health and beauty, and First Aid stuff to the left.

It was hard not to imagine shopping as a family. When the kids were little, my ex and I shopped together. Actually looked forward to it. The kids acted like they were at Disney World. We’d stop at the bakery first. Pass up food we planned to buy, in order to get to the bakery. Charlene and Cash wanted their free cookie. There was a Tupperware container by the loafs of fresh baked bread. It contained cookies for kids under 12. The Cookie Club. Not to start there would have been devastating to toddlers. While I was a bit older than 12, I considered myself an honorary Cookie Club member. Used to make the ex laugh when I’d say, “One for you. And one for you, and one for me.”

Even the kids laughed.

They knew I wasn’t supposed to get a cookie. Silly, Daddy.

Once the cookies were distributed, the shopping began. See, it was easier and cheaper giving the kids a free cookie to munch on. For us at the time, anyway. The kids were distracted, and happy. They weren’t pointing at high priced items on the shelves. The ex and I could actually buy what needed buying. And only what needed buying. Usually.

I shook my head. No time for memories. They didn’t help. They clouded judgment. I needed to be clear. Ready.

“You good?” Allison said.

“I am. You ready?”

“All set.”

We had a lot of ground to cover, with no idea what to expect. I didn’t like it, and therefore, I did not have a good feeling about this. Not at all.

“Stay close,” I whispered. The kid was practically up my ass. He breathed heavy. Uneven breaths. I knew he was scared. We all were. I think he felt especially vulnerable. A broken wrist will do that in a situation like that. He had his gun. It was just going to offer very limited resources if we ran into monsters. Way I felt, there was no way around it. No way was this store empty of those things.

Part of me expected to see long lines, customers unloading groceries onto black conveyors and cashiers sliding bar codes over laser readers before bagging the items. None of that existed. Might never exist again. I used to consider the process slow and chaotic. Never realized how organized a method it really was until now, with it gone. All gone.

We snuck past the scratch off Lottery dispenser machine, and customer service desk. I didn’t see or hear anyone else in the store. Not even Allison or Dave. I was thankful Josh was in front as lookout. The closer we got to the bank, the better I started to feel. There might be a chance we could pull this off without incident.

At the last register, I squatted. The kid did, too.

“What?” he said.

I shook my head, tried to swallow. My mouth was dry. “You want to wait here? I can see the first aid stuff,” I said, pointing toward the aisle. “I’ll be quick.”

“I’m coming,” is what he said. His eyes shouted, “ain’t no way you’re leaving me the fuck alone.”

“We’re going to be fast, grab the stuff, then look for the others. You be my eyes while I get everything. Okay?”

“I can do that,” he said.

I nodded, not a hundred percent convinced. I was at a point where I trusted myself. No one else.

The plastic bags were hanging by the edge of the conveyor. I took a few. Allison was going to try to locate a backpack, but she wasn’t with us, so for now, I’d fill these.

We stayed low, bent forward as we walked the length of the conveyor toward the front of the check-out. I looked both ways, amazed not a soul was in sight, alive or otherwise. The place was a goldmine. Forget the produce and meat that would go bad soon, it was the packaged items that would last years that sat stocked on the shelves that had me excited. Figure out a way to keep the sliding doors shut, clear the place of any zombies, and we had a safe haven that might just last until the epidemic was put under control. Assuming it ever would be.

We made a dash for the health aisle. Didn’t need to, no one was around. Once in the aisle, I snapped open a bag. I first grabbed bandages, alcohol, ointments and hydrogen peroxide. Then it became a free-for-all. Aspirin, Benadryl, cough syrup and anything else that looked helpful. I filled two bags before I stopped and listened.