The Shooter

The electricity was thick in the humid air. Another severe storm warning was in effect—the third in less than two months.  Who would have known it was supposed to be summer and the sun was supposed to be out?  The wind and rain were getting old fast, but something about this storm seemed a little different, and this time, it caught my attention.  The forecasters called it the big one and made wild predictions about power outages, extreme flooding, and hurricane-force winds. 

I rolled my eyes at the little white letters scrolling across the bottom of the big-screen TV. Over and over, it repeated: plan for extreme winds and toppled trees… be prepared for power outages… make sure to have an ample supply of batteries and fresh water… do not run generators in enclosed areas… This was getting to be a bit much.  If people didn’t know this stuff by now, it was their damn fault.

Unfortunately, it had been a tight month, and we were low on cash.  I generally kept a small stash of emergency supplies on hand, but this past month, we had to dig into the tuna and crackers for food and even burn some of my candles.  The intent was to reduce the electric bill and regain a grip on the finances.  Now that we might need them, they were gone.  At least today was payday, I thought. 

Bundling up in an extra layer of clothing, I ducked my head and headed to my car. I usually enjoy the rain, but today, it came down with a diagonal assault, and it was as if I were walking into a carwash.  I could hear the thunder in the distance and hoped that part of the storm would pass before I got home.  I am not fond of thunder and lightning.

It was an eerie feeling as I drove down the main street.  It was just after one, but it appeared to be nearly dark.  The streetlights were glowing a ghostly blue hue between the hordes of rain, and I was the only car out on the usually busy road.  I was already soaked from the short trip from my house to the car, so I didn’t even bother running to the store from the nearly vacated lot.

Once inside, I did a quick survey of my surroundings.  I would have thought that with all the hype on the news, everything would have been pretty picked over.  I was surprised to see two open check stands with few lines and full aisles. 

I grabbed a cart and aimlessly walked down the frozen section to the left.  I thought about getting a few frozen dinners as that was my regular habit, but if we did lose power, I could not cook them and keep them cold.  I kept wandering towards the bakery section in the back.  Cookies!  I could live on cookies for a few days, no problem.  I grabbed a big plastic carton of chocolate chips and headed toward the milk coolers. 

I was repeating my internal dialogue about keeping things cold when I passed a young man in a long gray trench coat.  He had a shaved head and tattoos crawling up his neck.  I guess I only noticed him because his head wasn’t covered, and the people who braved the storm were all bundled up like they might melt.  I nodded politely, and he did the same.

I was gawking at the yogurt and again wondering why I couldn’t get it in my brain. If there were no power, this stuff would spoil before I could use it when a strong hand covered my mouth while pushing me forward. 

“Don’t scream!  Whatever you do, don’t scream!”  The man’s voice almost sounded panicked.  I could tell it was not the guy in the trench coat, and whoever it was meant business.  The man pushed me behind the clear plastic stripped curtain that separated the store from the back room. 

The person released their death grip on me.  “Please, don’t scream.  Did you see that guy in the gray coat?” 

I turned around to see my kidnapper and was shocked to see a plain-clothed man. He was wearing jeans and a tan canvas work jacket and looked like he may be a construction worker.  Relaxing a little bit, I told him I did. 

“He has a gun under his coat.”  The man was scanning for a hiding place and was looking behind me.  “I watched him when I pulled in.  He was following a young Hispanic family trying to stay out of their sight.  He loaded his weapon before walking in the door.”  The man was getting agitated. 

“We need to find a place to hide.  I already called the store manager, who is clearing the store, but my battery is dead.  Do you have a phone?” 

I nodded yes as he pressed on my shoulder, forcing me to turn around.  “See if that door is open.  Quick!  We can hide in there.”  I did my best not to stumble. 

Too scared to fight, I opened a very small janitor’s closet door.  There was a single lightbulb with a chain coming from above.  I pulled the chain, and the light clicked on.  A utility sink and mop bucket took up over two-thirds of the tiny space, and there was barely room for us to stand.  I stepped in, and the man followed close behind, never taking his eyes off the entrance to the store.  He quietly shut the door and twisted the knob to the locked position.

The storm was brewing, and a giant roar of thunder shook the building.  I trembled involuntarily.  The man, sensing my discomfort, tried to put me at ease. “This is a pretty safe place, even during a storm.” 

I nodded again.  I was too frightened to speak.  “You said you had a phone?” 

My hand shook as I handed him my phone.  I watched him closely as he dialed 911.  I had no reason not to trust him, but after seeing the man in the coat and hearing that he had a gun… Was I the hostage? 

The man spoke quietly. “My name is Edward Davis, and I am in the Galaxy Foods back room. I watched a man walk in with an assault rifle. He was stalking a young family, and I think he may shoot.” 

The conversation continued for a few more minutes, and I believed his story. Another large thunder crash rolled overhead, followed by a sudden pop and total darkness. The power had gone out. Now, I was beyond terrified but relieved not to be alone. 

The man turned me so his back was to the door and my back was towards him. He told me he wanted to protect me, and if anyone shot at the door, he hoped it would hit him first. He put his arms loosely around my shoulders. It was amazingly calming, even if I didn’t know who he was. 

The silence was deafening. Not that it was quiet, but there were no gunshots or sounds of anything taking place in the store. The rain was coming down hard, and the roof was groaning between the standing water and gusts of wind. The man must have known I was scared and gently tightened his grip.

I decided that it was a little more than awkward to be standing in the dark with a stranger's arms around me. I must have watched too much TV and had the idea that if I could get him to talk about himself and his family, he would remember he was good and not hurt me. I almost chuckled out loud at my outlandish thoughts, but I was curious. 

“My name is Ed,” he said without prompting. “I was just stopping in after work to grab some treats for my kids in case the power goes out. I was talking to my wife on the phone when I pulled in and hung up on her when I saw the guy in the gray coat.” 

“Amber,” I said. “My name is Amber,” I stuttered. I saw him. He had so many tattoos on his neck.” I was still pretty frightened, and my words were failing me miserably. 

“Hi, Amber. I would normally shake your hand and say nice to meet you. Honest, it is not my nature to grab people and force them into closets.” He was still whispering, and that made me nervous. “I think our friend is part of Moy Locos, the local gang here. I don’t know who the other guy is, but I suspect he either left the gang or belonged to a different one.” He stayed silent long enough for another clap of thunder to pass. “I just hope the young girl and baby boy aren’t hurt.”

I nodded, then remembered we were in the dark. “Do you think something is going to happen?” A close lightning strike must have occurred because an eerie gray light suddenly spilled under the door. The thunder was on top of us instantly. I spun around and clung to the man for dear life. 

“It’s okay, it’s only a thunderstorm. It will be okay,” he said softly.

Feeling stupid for being afraid but nowhere near ready to let go, I asked him about his kids. 

He had two sons, one seven and the other nine. They didn’t like storms either, and he was sure his wife had her hands full. They would probably want to turn the music up loud and play “Air Band,” as they liked to call it, where they would take turns lip-synching and being silly.

I started to laugh, and he hushed me. “Listen.”

I could hear footsteps and a baby crying, followed by a series of pops. It was happening in the dark. I buried my face in the man’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around me tightly. He whispered “shhh” in my hair and rubbed my back with his right hand to try and calm me.

The storm outside was raging furiously. It was hard to differentiate the sounds from nature with the violence in the store. It felt like a steady roar, like a freight train.

After what seemed like forever but was only seconds, everything fell silent. The rain stopped, and there was no more thunder or wind. The screaming stopped, and the sounds of footsteps no longer came. The power was still out, and no light was flooding in. It was like time had stopped, and the world was standing still. The man’s grip had loosened, and I no longer could feel his touch.

I stood and shivered as I tried to catch my breath. What was happening? Then, suddenly, the lightbulb flicked on. It was very bright, almost too bright. I had to cover my eyes to protect them from the sudden intrusion. I looked around me and looked around for the man, but all I could see was plain white light. There was no little room, no sink, and no mop bucket. There was no man. Had I been shot? Was I dead?

A sudden sharp biohazard-type siren pierced the silence. I jumped in surprise. It kept repeating itself over and over in a precise rhythm. What was that horrible noise?

Cautiously, I opened my eyes. I was at home and in my bed. The blinds were tilted partially open, and the sunlight was streaming in. My alarm was blasting, and it was time to wake up. I blinked a couple of times to make sure this was for real. Stiffly, I sat up and slowly made my way out to the living room.

My husband was on the sofa watching TV.  I had to sit down because I was still a little disoriented. Everything that happened was so real and so vivid. There was no way that was a dream or a nightmare. I rubbed my eyes and tried to lean into him for comfort. 

He didn’t respond right away to my gesture. He was busy working the remote to scroll through the channels. “This darn storm,” he said. “They think we are all a bunch of idiots… don’t run your generator in the house… get bottled water…” he shook his head in disgust.

I looked over my shoulder through the outside window and the sun was out, but the trees were still windless. The leaves glistened with morning dew, and the sky was blue with puffy white clouds. Strange, I thought. I don’t see any signs of a storm coming.

Lazily, I got up and went to the back door to go out with the dogs. Looking towards the east, a chill ran through me as I saw the layers of thick black rolling clouds heading our way. I could already see the trees swaying in the distance, and I shuddered as I heard the distant roll of thunder. I inwardly smiled. I had gone to the store the day before and seen the news. This time, I planned. I wouldn’t be the last one out during a storm to raid the empty shelves of the only grocery store in town. I was prepared, and I was not going anywhere. 

I was just about to go back inside when I noticed a man with a tan jacket walking with two young boys pushing their bicycles. There was a park nearby with a makeshift BMX track the kids loved riding on, and I guessed that one had fallen. He was crying softly and rubbing his leg. The other was looking over his shoulder at the clouds.

My blood ran cold when I heard the man’s voice. “It is just a little thunderstorm; it will be okay. How about I run to the store and get some snacks, then we can play Air Band?”