Dead Stop Page 11

  Marisa stared in shock as he straightened his hat and looked back in her direction.

  “Door,” he reminded the girl gently.

  “Right!” The waitress turned and made a dash for the restaurant entrance.

  What the hell were you doing, you idiot! She berated herself internally. The world is going to hell around you and you’re staring at some yahoo like a moonstruck cow! Snap out of it!

  Marisa bolted out of the aisle and made the mistake of looking to her left, towards the cash register as she did. What she saw there would give her nightmares for the rest of her life.

  Four more of the skull faced demons were rising to their feet in front of the wreckage that had once been the store counter. Several others ripped and tore at something behind the debris, and she saw one leg protruding on the floor from the feeding tangle. It wore one of Gladys’ orthopedic shoes.

  But even worse was the bloody mass of meat at the feet of the four monsters in front of the ruined counter. She could barely recognize it as human, it was so torn and shredded. But even as she stared in horror, it made a mewling whimper and a hand with missing fingers jerked up and reached towards her in a desperate appeal for help.

  She cried out and kept running, trying to ignore the renewed screaming when two of the monsters reacted to their meals movement with fresh attacks. Unfortunately, the other two must have decided they were more interested in the movement on her end of the store.

  In what she was starting to recognize as some kind of attack posture, the blood-soaked creatures spread their talon like hands and gaped their jaws before heading her direction.

  “Harley!” she screamed a warning as she pushed through the restaurant entrance and turned to hold the door. “They’re coming!”

  She gripped the door, wondering where the man had disappeared to. The two monsters had now picked up speed and would be at the doorway in another second or two.

  “Harley!”

  The man erupted from the aisle he must have been crouching in just as her pursuers reached it and shoulder blocked them into each other and the post card display by the front window. They went down in a thrashing heap while he bounced off and used his changed momentum to run towards the door.

  Marisa started to make a sharp comment on stupid moves as he reached the entrance, then bit it off.

  It dawned on her that he had actually put himself in danger and waited back in the aisle, just to make sure those things wouldn’t catch her before she made it to safety. The man must have seen them when he came in the store in the first place, so he already knew the threat they posed.

  Harley slid through the door and both of them pushed it closed and put their backs to it.

  A second later the sounds of withered hands slapping and sliding on glass came from behind them. Marisa braced herself and helped the tall redneck hold the door as the pressure from the other side increased. She knew her contribution probably amounted to a quarter of his, but silently swore this “dumb, helpless female” role she had stumbled into the past couple of minutes was going to end…right now.

  The pressure on the other side of the door steadily increased, causing the two to put their feet far out in front of them in an attempt to brace better.

  “Keys…” Harley gritted as he strained against the door, “Are there keys to this door?”

  Marisa fought to remember for a second, then the answer came.

  “Yeah,” she gasped, “the night manager has them.”

  “Who’s the night manager?”

  “Gladys.”

  “Crap.”

  “Yeah…”

  “Well, we’re gonna have to think of something pretty quick,” the man panted, “because I’ve got a feeling these things don’t tire out as fast as we do.”

  She had a feeling he was right.

  “Okay, okay, just let me think…”

  Marisa found it hard to concentrate while exerting so hard. And there also remained the matter of still being scared half out of her mind to contend with as well. She cast her gaze around for something to brace against the door, but instead found herself staring at the frightened faces of those who remained in the booths of the restaurant. Two out-of-towners…which included a certain jackass who thought truck stops should have salad bars…

  “Hey! Señor!” she yelled at the pudgy out-of-towner in the red beret who was staring at them in open mouthed shock. “You want to come help us hold this door?!”

  “I – I” the young man gawped and shook his head in negation, “I’m not – not involved in this!”

  The waitress couldn’t believe her ears.

  “Oh, believe me, “Marisa snarled, “if these things get in here you are going to be involved! They’re going to involve you in your own slaughter! Now get over here and help us with this damn door!”

  The young man flushed red, and sputtered in indignation, but exited the booth and took a few noncommittal steps in their direction. He stopped when he got a better look at the bloody visages pressed up against the glass behind them.

  “Now dammit! Or we’re all going to DIE!”

  He hustled forward again, but stopped in front of her in irritated confusion.

  “There’s only room for two against that door,” he complained. “Where am I supposed to fit?”

  “You’re going to be taking my place,” Marisa winced in effort. “So get ready. We’ve got to make this switch fast.”

  “Wait,” he objected. “Why do I have to take your place?”

  “Because, Galahad,” Marisa snapped, “I’ve got to go get the spare set of keys to this lock, and I can’t do it with my butt against this door! “

  “My name is Gerald,” the redhead huffed.

  “Spare keys?” Harley queried through effort clenched teeth. “Hey, I like the sound of that!”

  The cords of the tall man’s neck stood out as he strained backwards against the door. The muscles of his arms and shoulders knotted with exertion and Marisa started to suspect her contribution to this effort was probably a lot less than the quarter she originally thought. She also realized time was of the essence here.

  “Okay…Gerald…” she fought down the urge to call him something a lot more colorful, “I’m going to count to three. When I hit three, I’m going to roll away from the door and you just step up and put your back against it. Got it?”

  “Wait,” he protested, “Do you mean ‘one, two, three and then move…or one, two, and move at the same time you’re saying three?”

  If I live through this, I’m going to kill this man.

  “On three,” she growled. “Got it?”

  Gerald nodded, managing to look both irritated and unsure.

  “Okay…one…two…THREE!”

  Marisa rolled sideways away from the door, and came up on her knees to see the man looking at her in surprise, before making an awkward lunge for the door. She didn’t want to take the time to curse at him, so satisfied herself with glaring at his girlfriend still in the booth as she came to her feet and started running towards the kitchen door. The girl looked away in obvious embarrassment. Marisa couldn’t help but wonder what any woman could even see in a useless and abrasive little troll like Gerald, but had more important matters to attend to at the moment.

  She sprinted for the kitchen, and prayed Harley and the snotty little dork could hold the door long enough for what had to be done. The waitress remembered Big Earl had a spare set of keys in his office. She also remembered Gladys was the only one to have a key to Big Earl’s office as well, but a past exploit of that idiot Tomas reminded her there was another way into there.

  Now if she could get one of the guys back there to step up.

  “Benny!” she yelled as she pushed her way through the door, “I need you to…HOLY SHIT!”

  Marisa came to a stop and gaped at the rear wall of the kitchen near the back door and hallway.

  The entire area was drenched in blood.

  Chapter Five: Downpour

  Downpou
r - Deke

  “Holy Shit!”

  Deke looked up from tying the makeshift bandage on Stacey’s arm to see Marisa standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a shocked look on her face. He could only imagine what she was seeing.

  The group of them all sat on the floor around the janitor, Benny, bandaging him as fast as they could under the veterinarian’s direction. Stacey had run and grabbed an armful of rags from a storeroom, and now they were tearing them and tying them around the little man’s legs under Rachel’s watchful eyes. They were all covered in blood from both the janitor and the trucker who died to save him, and the floor and walls were smeared in crimson from their former struggle with the monsters at the door in the stuff.

  “B-Benny?” The tall waitress took a hesitant step further into the room.

  “Oh, Marisa!” Stacey cried, “They got Benny! He’s hurt bad! Real bad!”

  “Oh shit,” Marisa gulped weakly, and took another two steps closer. “W-what about Tomas? I need him right now.”

  “He’s dead!” The little waitress got up and rushed over to grab the taller girls arm. “They’re all dead back there, ‘Risa! Tomas. Arnold. All of them! These things were EATING them!”

  Marisa stared at the smaller girl in horror for a second, then seemed to collect herself.

  “Easy, amiga,” she put her hands on Stacey’s shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “I know it must have been bad, but we’re not out of trouble yet. Those bastards are in the store, and they’re trying to get into the restaurant. Harley is holding the door shut, but he can’t keep it up for long. I need to get into Big Earl’s office to get the spare keys, comprende?”

  Stacey gulped and stared at her for a second. She looked half hysterical, and Deke realized she had probably run to the other waitress for comforting. Instead, the smaller girl swallowed hard and nodded.

  Marisa started to pat her on the shoulders then decided not to when she noticed the gashes on the girl’s upper arm. Failing that, she turned to Deke with a look of urgency on her face.

  “It’s Deke, right?” She used the hand she had originally intended to put on Stacey’s shoulder to grab his arm instead. “I need your help with something. I know you want to stay with Stacey, but I need you right now. Okay?”

  “Uh…”

  “You need him to climb like Tomas did?” Stacey interrupted. Deke thought she appeared to be recollecting herself with admirable speed, although she had a certain wide-eyed, frail look that worried him.

  “Yes. And we need to hurry. Harley can’t hold that door much longer.”

  “Okay,” the smaller girl nodded again. She didn’t sound terribly happy about it, and Deke didn’t want to leave her. But if those things were about get in here, then he needed to do everything in his power to stop them…right now.

  The young redneck looked back at her as he let Marisa pull him down the back hallway.

  “Come on,” Marisa urged. “Once you’ve gotten these keys for me, you can get back to taking care of her. But she needs you to do this, too. All of us do.”

  “Right!” Deke refocused ahead as the tall waitress pulled him past a couple of doors in the rear hallway and stopped at the third one. “Let’s get on with it. What do you need me to do?”

  “That,” she pointed at a fourth door set into the wall at the end of the hallway, “is Big Earl’s office. There is a spare set of keys in the lap drawer of his desk.”

  “So let’s get them.” He headed for the door but Marisa caught his arm again.

  “Wait,” she ordered. “It’s locked and we don’t have the keys to it. It’s metal and set in a concrete and cinder brick wall, so you aren’t going to be able to bust it open either.”

  “Okay.” He could see she was telling it like it was. “So what do we do?”

  “You,” she emphasized, “are going to go through the ceiling and over the wall and drop into the office.”

  “Got it.” Deke began an immediate scan of the area for something to stand on so he could reach the ceiling and do as instructed. He spied some plastic crates for carrying large jugs of salad dressing and started for them.

  “No, Deke.” Marisa tightened her grip on his arm, and he turned to look at her in confusion.

  Her face was tight, and he suddenly got the feeling she was about to tell him something he really didn’t want to hear.

  “What?”

  “Now for the bad news,” the waitress continued. “You can’t get there from here. The wall all these doors are set in is a firewall. If you go up into the ceiling here in the hallway, you can only get to places inside the restaurant. The office is on the store side of the wall, so to get in there you’re going to have to go up into the ceiling from the store side.”

  His urge for decisive action faded as he considered the ramifications of that.

  “Wait,” he swallowed, “You mean where those…”

  “Yeah.”

  “But how? If those things are in there, how am I supposed to do this? It would be suicide!”

  This changed everything. Deke didn’t want to let everybody down, but getting ripped to pieces didn’t appeal to him either. He had seen the damage these monsters could do to a man in a very short time while fighting at the door.

  “By sneaking past them.” Marisa’s grip tightened on his arm. “You can do this.”

  “Are you serious?” He eyed the girl warily. “How?”

  “I saw seven of them in there. Four were eating Gladys and some other guy at the counter, and two were at the door trying to push their way in. I think a couple of them moved to join the ones at the door while Harley and I were trying to hold it closed. But that still means they’re all up front of the store. If you go through this door, you should be able to duck right into the men’s room on the other side without being seen.

  “That makes six.” Deke really didn’t like this. “You said there were seven.”

  “Harley killed the other one. By the way, what is he…some kind of redneck ninja or something?”

  “Huh?”

  “No, nevermind that,” she shook her head as if irritated with herself. “The point is it’s down, and you should be able to do this without getting caught. Just duck into the men’s room and go to the last stall. Climb up through the ceiling there and you should be able to go right over the wall into Big Earl’s office. Got it?”

  “Yeah,” he shrugged without enthusiasm. “Okay.”

  “Deke, you have to do this. If you don’t…we’re all dead. Stacey, too.”

  “I know,” he set his jaw. “I know. I’ll do it. I’m just trying to figure out how this could suck any worse than it does.”

  “You could be on fire,” she suggested as she gripped the doorknob to the employee’s entrance to the store.

  “Oh ha-ha, and here I thought Stacey was the comedian of you two.”

  “Oh, trust me,” Marisa rolled her eyes and glanced back up the hallway. “She has her moments. Now, I’m going to open the door on three. Are you ready? On three…One…”

  “Wait a minute. Do you mean…”

  “Oh, nevermind!” she hissed and pulled the door open a bit to take a peek out. “You’re clear. Just go! And stay low until you’re in the bathroom.”

  “Right.”

  “And hurry!”

  “Right!”

  Deke took a deep breath and slid around the door into the short rear hallway of the store. He crouched low, one hand on the floor and located the bathroom door only six feet away. Behind him, the door to the back hallway closed with a soft click.

  He was now in enemy territory…and scared half out of his mind.

  But so far, still alive.

  The killers must have been at the front of the store like Marisa had predicted. Deke had an unobstructed view down one aisle and to his relief it stood completely empty. But something had definitely happened there. The floor was littered with broken glass and cans, and the steel shelf on the end was bent down into a shallow “U” from some ki
nd of impact.

  He could also hear things.

  From somewhere in the front corner of the store, where the cash register ought to be, he could hear a strange, soft whimpering punctuated by the tear of cloth and rustle of movement. His mind rebelled at the image the sound conjured and focused more on the scrabbling noise emanating from the direction of the door to the restaurant. There was an occasional squeak, like the sound of a hand sliding on glass, consistent with Marisa’s tale of the things trying to push their way in to get to the rest of them…

  …a reminder that time was of the essence here.

  Deke ghosted over to the entrance to the men’s restroom. He pushed the door open with slow care, trying not to make either noise or a sudden motion that might catch the attention of the monsters, and slipped inside. Once in, he eased the door closed while holding his breath…expecting it to be slammed open again by some skull-faced horror any second. When that didn’t happen, he wasted no time in hurrying over to the far toilet stall.

  Step one had been accomplished.

  This was an industrial style toilet, without a tank on back. It only had a pipe leading up from the toilet itself featuring a valve handle on it’s side. Deke stepped up onto the bowl and then the top of the pipe in two quick strides and examined the ceiling. A rectangular fluorescent fixture hung over the center of the stall, but in the back corner a large ceiling tile provided exactly the exit he was searching for.

  He pushed up the tile with alacrity, did a quick check of the top of the wall for spiders or other vermin he had no wish to put his hands on, then grabbed the wall top. The young man pulled himself up into the ceiling with limber ease and found himself crouching in the dark recesses of the ceiling, on top of an eight inch wide strip of concrete wall. A stray part of his mind noted he was getting filthy, but it barely pinged on his consciousness at the moment.

  “Okay,” he muttered while reaching for a tile on the opposite side of the wall from the bathroom. “If Marisa is right, then this should be the ceiling to the office.”

  He pulled up the tile to reveal a square of blackness below.

  “Naturally, the lights are out,” he grumped. “Oh well, here goes the dashing Deke leaping blind into the jaws of…uh…whatever.”