Clean Up on Aisle 4

I wake to a ringing in my ears and the faint sound of elevator music surrounding me. The air is thick and wreaks of freshly baked pastries and the pungent smell of death. My eyes burn and fill with tears as I stare into the harsh fluorescent light illuminating overhead. I use my hand to shield my face from the piercing glare and discover that I am covered in blood. Holding my breath and using what little strength I can muster, I slowly lift myself into a seated position.

To each side of me are shelving units stocked with canned goods and a variety of processed foods. Most of the items have been knocked to the floor. Glass jars containing jellies and jams are shattered and wasted. Half filled shopping carts are left unattended. Shoppers lay dead on the floor. Saturated with bullet holes. It appears as though someone has gone on a rampage.

I am overwhelmed with fear. My first instinct is to call for help. I reach into my pocket to retrieve my cell phone and sadly come up empty. I look around to see if it’s on the floor. Once again, I’m disappointed. I crawl towards a young man whose mutilated remains lay not too far from where I am sitting. Digging through his pockets, I find only a blood soaked wallet and a set of car keys. No phone in sight. 

In a sloppy attempt to stand, I lose my footing and slip in a puddle of blood beneath me. I scream in agony as pain surges up my leg and through my body like a bolt of lightning. The bone above my knee is exposed from an apparent gunshot wound. 

I rip the sleeve from my shirt and tie it around my leg to stop the bleeding. There’s so much blood. Grabbing onto a shopping cart for assistance, I struggle to pull myself into an upright position. If I can make it to the exit I might have a chance of surviving. 

Using the cart as a crutch, I begin to limp towards the front of the store. The scene is horrific. Like something from a horror film. My hands are trembling. My brain is scattered. Carefully, I look around to check for the shooter. Making sure that I’m not in danger. I see no sign of him and decide to proceed with caution. 

Blood soaked carcasses block the path between where I am and where I need to be. Escaping this nightmare is proving to be harder than I expected. I step over the body of a fallen shopper with a gunshot wound to the head. Lying in a pool of her own blood, she stares at me with an emptiness in her eyes. A chill runs down my spine. 

I can see the exit from where I stand. The ground surrounding the doors is littered with shiny gold bullet casings. The windows are shielded by a curtain of ice. Snow is falling in sheets outside. The wind is fierce and blowing in all directions. I can hear it whistling through the trees in the distance. Once I’m out of those doors I’ll need to give it everything I’ve got if I’m going to live through this event. I just need to make it to my car. 

“Come on man! You’ve got this.”

Leaving a trail of blood in my path, I stumble to the exit. Gritting my teeth to numb the pain exploding through my leg. As the automatic doors begin to slide open, the sounds of a baby’s screams grab my attention. It appears I’m not alone. 

I swiftly spin around in search of the direction from which the crying is coming from. To my amazement, there’s an infant wrapped in a soft pink blanket on the floor about fifty yards away in the middle of aisle 4. The lifeless body of a middle aged woman is spread out next to her. I assume it is the newborn’s mother. I can’t just leave her there. I have to do something. 

“Don’t be a coward! It’s time to step up to the plate and be a hero.”

Blood escapes my leg with every painstaking step that I take. If I can make it to the child, her mom might have a phone that I can use. It will be a difficult endeavor but my only choice is to try. This innocent baby is in danger and needs my help.

Slowly moving towards aisle 4, I’m faced with an obstacle course of displays and abandoned shopping carts. Random items are scattered across the floor making movement with a leg injury virtually impossible. The journey is a struggle but I’m determined. We will both make it out of here alive.

I arrive at the end cap of aisle 4 and lean against the shelves to relieve the pressure in my leg. My energy level is at an all time low. I’ve lost a lot of blood. At this point, I’m lucky to be standing at all. I’m surprised that I’m still alive. 

“A little further and this will all be over.”

Advancing towards the baby, I grip the racks tightly and feel my limbs give out beneath me. Grocery items crash to floor. My leg can no longer handle the stress of walking. My impairment has won the battle but not the war. I would need to crawl the rest of the way in order to save the child from an untimely and unnecessary death. 

I drag myself across the floor to where the baby lays screaming. Leaning over the baby, I reach out my blood stained hands and carefully lift her to my chest. She is safe now. No harm will come her way. 

I meticulously unwrap the soft pink fabric that is protecting her fragile body to check for potential trauma. What I discover completely blows me away. 

It’s not a baby in distress that I’ve been trying to rescue all this time. Those screams were coming from a plastic doll. A plastic doll that has been converted into a homemade bomb.

Suddenly, the baby stops howling and a man’s voice comes over the loud speaker. 

“Clean up on aisle 4!”

BOOM