Sanctuary Page 8

Up ahead, he saw the Gas ‘N Sip that he remembered spotting a couple hundred yards away from the dealership. It was time to head onto the highway.

  Their best point of ingress was to come at the dealership straight on from the highway. A high fence ran along the back of the dealership, separating it from the railroad tracks. It would make sweeping the lot for any threats much easier.

  “Come on, time to get over to the road,” Malcolm said, leading them off the tracks and across the abandoned lot that separated the railroad tracks from the gas station.

  He was on high alert as they crossed the open space, though the likelihood of being ambushed here was low. There had been no sign of life during their reconnaissance which meant either there was nobody left alive in the area or the residents that remained had no interest in bothering them.

  He had a feeling it was the latter, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end from the sensation that there were eyes watching them.

  Of course, it was always possible it was just harmless paranoia. He knew that as time passed, people would become more desperate to survive and their days of traveling undisturbed would come to an end. He just hoped it wouldn’t be today.

  They came up to the Gas ‘N Sip without any issue and filed past the pumps and towards the highway.

  “I might be stating the obvious here but why exactly are we walking by a perfectly good gas station to go get gas?” Claudia asked.

  “These kind of pumps need electricity to work,” Quinton explained, tapping one of the dead digital screens on the pump as he passed it. “We could try and open the tanks underneath and manually pump it up but you run the risk of starting a fire. With all the vapours produced by the amount of gas in those tanks, even the slightest spark of static electricity could set it off. Then kaboom! We’re all crispy fried bacon.”

  “And we won’t have that problem with the gas tank at the car place?” she asked as they left the gas station behind and headed up the highway.

  “The tank on the lot has a solar powered pump,” Alan said. “My dad had the same one on his lot. We’ll be able to fill up these cans in a couple minutes, easy.”

  They became silent again when their destination appeared as they rounded the curve in the highway.

  The L-shaped asphalt lot that surrounded the glass walled showroom held an extensive collection of vehicles. The newer models were parked in the long part of the L that hugged the front of the showroom while the short part was filled with used cars the dealership had no doubt gained on trade in. The service centre was behind the showroom, hidden from the highway, the garage doors facing the side street that separated the dealership from a strip mall next door.

  “We clear the lot first,” Malcolm told them in a low voice. “I’ll take point, Alan on our six, the rest fan out between the cars. Let’s go.”

  They moved quickly and quietly across the highway and over the small grassy embankment between the highway and the lot. Plastic flags advertising $0 Down! and 0% Financing Available! fluttered in the breeze as they walked between the cars in the front of the lot, all eyes peeled for any movement between the rows of vehicles.

  Though he still felt that persistent set of eyes on him, the lot was empty, each of them emerging from their line of cars to join him in front of the showroom.

  The showroom was a wall of windows that gave them a view of the cars displayed inside. The glass doors in the entryway had been smashed, shards of glass twinkling on the polished floor.

  Malcolm walked a few steps into the showroom, the glass crunching under the soles of his boots as he scanned the space. Behind the display cars were a bunch of glass walled offices and a white circular reception desk.

  The place was as quiet as a tomb, just like the rest of the town, but it did nothing to ease his apprehension. He stepped back outside to join the others.

  “Lorraine, Claudia, I want you two at either end of the front lot,” Malcolm instructed, pointing back towards the highway. “Claudia, you can go up on that truck, the one that looks like a redneck’s wet dream. Lorraine, climb up on the SUV over there. You’ll both have an eye on anything that comes down the highway from either direction. Whistle if you spot anything.”

  The two women nodded and moved off to obey his orders. Once they were in position at the watch points, he gestured for the others to follow him through the lot.

  They moved single file through the cars, sweeping the rest of the lot and moving back to where there were tires stacked up against the back wall of the service centre. A large white tank stood close by, FLAMMABLE written in bright red letters on the side. Malcolm moved to the tank gauge and let out a sigh of relief that the dial read half full. It would be plenty for the jerry cans they’d brought and they were bound to find a couple more cans in the service centre.

  “Jackson, you can pump the gas,” Quinton said, holding out the jerry cans.

  Jackson glowered at Quinton and pointedly ignoring the cans.

  “Ya know the difference between a transmission and an alternator?” Quinton didn’t answer but his silence was enough of an answer. Best I go to the service centre, seeing as I’m our only hope if we break down.”

  Malcolm was proud of the man, not only for refusing to rise to Quinton’s bait, but also managing to assert his usefulness to the group in the face of the doctor trying to push his buttons.

  “Good idea. Quinton, you’re on gas duty,” Malcolm instructed. “We’ll clear the service centre and then the showroom. Try and find the keys to a couple of the newer SUVs.”

  He walked away before Quinton could protest, figuring that the messy job would be enough to keep Quinton off his high horse. At least for a little bit.

  They tried the doors to the service centre but the deadbolts were locked tight. Malcolm pulled out the lock pick set Craig had given him before they’d left the paver’s, and went to work. It didn’t take long before he had the door open and they were walking into the customer waiting room of the service centre.

  The place was dark despite the windowed garage doors that took up two walls of the service bay. Malcolm flicked on his flashlight, moving it around the waiting area to ensure every corner was empty.

  It didn’t take long. The narrow room with its plastic chairs and coffee maker didn’t offer many hiding spots. There were two other doors in the room, a glass one that led to the service bay and a metal door marked Showroom - Employees Only that was locked when Malcolm tried to open it.

  The door to the service bay was open and Jackson went through it with Alan at his back as Malcolm went to work on picking the lock to the showroom.

  It was quiet for a moment before the sound of chains rattling and a pulley cranking rang out from the garage. Before Malcolm could abandon his work to step into the service bay, Alan came back into the waiting room, gun at his side.

  “We’re all good,” Alan replied. “Jackson found the manual release for the garage doors. There’s a bunch of batteries and stuff there. He said we should drive around one of the SUVs so we can load it up. I think he just wanted to watch Quinton pump the gas.”

  “Fair enough,” Malcolm chuckled and passed through the showroom door.

  They walked down a narrow hallway that ran between the offices and opened up onto the bright showroom. He could see both Claudia and Lorraine on their watch perches, backs to the showroom as they kept their eyes on the road.

  He and Alan split off in opposite directions as they swept through the showroom, circling each vehicle and checking beneath them to ensure the place was empty.

  The offices took another couple minutes to check out, making sure there weren’t any freaks hiding under the desks or some other hidden nook, Malcolm mindful of the freak that had nearly killed Kim because he had missed it.

  With the offices cleared, he headed back to the reception desk in the centre of the showroom. There he discovered why the front doors had been smashed open. A locked drawer had been pried open, most likely by a crowbar judging by the gouges in the metal dr
awer and the desk. Whomever had done the sloppy B&E hadn’t been prepared for the drawer to open when it did. The drawer itself was upside down on the floor with black and grey key FOBs scattered around it.

  Malcolm flipped the drawer over, more FOBs spilling across the floor and he let out a frustrated sigh as he spied the inside of the drawer.

  It was made up of dozens of neatly labelled slots; the letter and number combos marked on the inside of each slot obviously corresponding to the spot the vehicles were parked in.

  This was going to be a bit harder than he had thought.

  Malcolm picked up a handful of the FOBs and was heartened to see that they had at least been labelled with their make, model and year. He sifted through them, picking out any of them with the names of SUVs and trucks on them.

  “Here,” he said to Alan, handing over the FOBs he’d already picked up. “We’ll just unlock all the doors and then we can try and match ‘em up--”

  The high pitched screech of a car alarm ripped through the silence and Malcolm let out a curse as he rounded on the windows to search out the source of the noise. A Suburban four spots over from Claudia was going off, the girl already aiming at the flashing vehicle and Malcolm was about to run out to help but the alarm died and he heard Alan laugh.

  “Hitting the alarms is easier,” he said, pressing another FOB and another alarm went off, this time accompanied by a woman’s scream.

  The SUV that Lorraine was perched on was flashing its lights as its alarm screeched. The woman had her weapon aimed down at the asphalt below her, clearly unsure if something underneath the SUV had triggered the alarm.

  “Turn it off!” Malcolm ordered but Alan was too slow to obey so he swiped the FOB out of the oblivious man’s hand and killed the alarm. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  He didn’t wait for Alan to answer, dashing outside and waving to the women on watch.

  “The alarms were Alan, sorry!” he called out to them. He jogged down the line to Lorraine, who was still pale with fear.

  “What the hell was he thinking?” she asked and Malcolm gave her a look.

  “I don’t think he was thinking,” he said and held out his hand. “Here are the keys to this one. Might as well take it when we’re ready to leave. You mind checking that it runs?”

  Lorraine had just taken the FOB from his hand when both of them jumped as another alarm sounded from the back of the lot.

  Malcolm let out a violent curse, running back down the line to the showroom entrance just as Alan was coming out with a smile on his face.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled at Alan. “Stop with the alarms!”

  The sound died when Alan clicked the FOB, frowning in confusion when Malcolm met him with a violent grab of his wrist, tearing the FOB out of his hand.

  “What the hell is going on over there?” Quinton’s voice sounded over the radio on Malcolm’s belt.

  “Touch another alarm and I will fuck you up,” Malcolm bit out, dropping Alan’s arm and grabbing up the radio.

  “We’re good,” Malcolm told the doctor. “Just Alan screwing up.”

  “What’s new?” Quinton cracked and Alan’s face darkened.

  “Hey, I just found us three brand new vehicles, ready to go in less than ten seconds,” he said, smugly waving the FOB for the Suburban that had gone off first but Malcolm was quick to cut that bullshit right off.

  “And let anybody within a mile know that we’re here, you ashole.”

  Alan’s face paled, realization of just what he’d done dawning on him. “I didn’t think it would--”

  “Yeah, that’s your main problem, Wakefield,” Malcolm spit out. “You don’t fucking think. Come on, we’re gonna check out the other two vehicles and pull around to the tank if they need a fill up.”

  Malcolm didn’t wait for him to respond, heading to the back of the lot, needing to walk off his anger. If he didn’t, he was liable to take a swing at Alan and the last thing they needed was a fist fight. They needed to get this done and get back to the others.

  He had only just rounded the corner of the showroom when Claudia’s whistle sounded and had him turning back.

  Five freaks had appeared on the highway, heading straight for the dealership.

  Malcolm noted that it was a motley group. They were unsteady on their feet, one of them walking with a very pronounced limp, another one listing to one side due to the dead left arm that was either dislocated or broken. Two of them trailed much farther behind due to the fact that they had to weigh well over three hundred pounds each. Even their best looking member had to be eighty, if she was a day.

  Despite the sad look of them, Claudia still had her weapon trained on them, ready to fire, but Malcolm let out a low whistle, drawing her attention to him. He gave her the signal to stay her weapon, looking over to Lorraine to make sure she had gotten the same message. Both women looked confused so he held up the crowbar and put a finger over his lips. He received nods of understanding from them both and he turned back to Alan.

  “Alan, come on,” Malcolm said as he pulled the mask that had been hanging around his neck up to cover his nose and mouth. “We gotta take these guys out quietly, without guns.”

  Alan nodded, putting his own mask in place and following Malcolm to the centre lane of the lot. The freaks had gathered around the truck, forcing Claudia up onto the roof. She was well out of reach of even the tallest freaks’ grasp but her discomfort was clear.

  Malcolm put his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle that got the freaks’ attention. They moved away from Claudia’s truck and over to the centre lane of the lot, just where he wanted them.

  “You ready?” he asked Alan. What he could see of the man’s face was paler than usual. Alan merely nodded, the machete that had hung on his hip now held tightly in his fist. “We take them on one at a time and watch each other’s backs. We’ll be fine.”

  Limpy and the Obese Twins still trailed well behind the other two and so Malcolm stepped towards the one with the bad arm, leaving the elderly freak for Alan.

  As he closed in on his target, Malcolm could see the other signs of infection clear on what had once been an attractive woman. Dried blood and foam crusted her lips as she bared her teeth at him. He could see she’d chipped several of her teeth and her nose had been broken at some point judging by the bruising over the bridge and around her milky eyes.

  Her face and arm had to be causing her excruciating pain but she continued on towards him, the infection having overridden everything but this strange need to violently attack anything that moved. It would be a mercy to end things for her.

  Malcolm closed in until he was within range and took an overhand swing with the crowbar, burying the curved end in her good shoulder, tearing a scream from her and sending her to her knees. With both arms disabled, it was easy to move behind her and pull her head back to swiftly bring his knife across her throat. He kept his hold on her, ensuring that the infected blood that spurted from her neck with the last few beats of her heart sprayed harmlessly on the ground.

  When the freak stilled, he dropped the body and turned back to see that his actions had spurned Limpy on, now making a sloppy run his way. Malcolm pulled the crowbar out of the freak’s shoulder and took a couple steps towards Limpy and gauged the proper timing for his swing. He was right on when he brought the blunt side of the crowbar against the freak’s head and sent it snapping back on its neck. The freak hit the ground and was motionless.

  “Fuck!”

  Alan’s curse got Malcolm’s attention and he looked over to see that Alan had cleaved his machete through the elderly freak’s head but it was now stuck there. He yanked on the thing, his foot on the freak’s body as he tried to strong arm it out but the metal wasn’t budging.

  The Obese Twins zeroed in on Alan, hobbling towards him on their sausage legs. Malcolm watched the blood drain out of Alan’s face as he saw them coming his way. Alan let go of the machete and reached for the gun on his hip an
d Malcolm let out a curse of his own.

  He dashed up behind the freak closest to him, ducking low to swing the crowbar before Alan could get off a shot but he wasn’t fast enough. The gunshot sounded just as Malcolm swung at the freak, connecting with its knee as the bullet hit its shoulder. The dual impacts sent the freak spinning and it toppled over, taking Malcolm down beneath it.

  Malcolm face planted on the asphalt, the weight of the freak knocking the breath out of him. The freak bellowed as it squirmed on its back, whether from pain or an attempt to get back onto its feet, Malcolm didn’t know. He did know that it felt like the thing was trying to crush him.

  He still had the crowbar and his knife in his hands but he didn’t want to take a wild swing at the freak and risk the uncontrolled blood splatter. He tried to arch his back, hoping he could slide himself out from under the freak’s weight but his pelvis was pinned and he didn’t have enough leverage. The freak rolled, pinning his torso further and Malcolm felt his lungs compress, making it much more difficult to breathe.

  Sweat trickled over his forehead and into his eyes, a combination of the warm asphalt beneath him and the oppressive weight of the freak on top of him burning him up. He turned his head to the other side, hoping to shake some of the sweat off. He had a perfect view of the tires and undercarriage of the cars and for a moment he thought the sweat was distorting his vision but realized he did see a set of those tires spinning as a vehicle left the lot.

  The weight over his lower half suddenly eased and Malcolm looked back over his shoulder to see that the other obese freak was helping its fallen brethren to its feet. Malcolm half rolled, half pulled himself out from under the freak and scrambled to his feet.

  He rounded on them, ready to do battle with the crowbar and knife but the uninjured one dropped to its knees, Claudia standing behind him, her knife sticking out the base of its skull. She let it take her knife down with it and turned her attention to the freak that had been on top of Malcolm. It was barely staying on its feet, one knee mangled from the crowbar, its shoulder bleeding from the bullet, chest heaving as it gasped for breath.