Spiral

It's a little after eight o'clock, and the lights have just gone out. I'm hyperventilating--how am I already hyperventilating? I try to slow my breathing and calm down. It's hard because I can't see shit.

I focus on what I can hear instead; the wind has really picked up outside. How did I not notice that before? It's the loudest thing I've ever heard.

Focus.

I reach out with my hands, and they're shaking so badly that I smash my right pinky against the handle of my shopping cart. I latch onto it and stumble a bit as the cart rolls forward. I reach for my purse, pull it out of the cart and drop to my knees. I'm starting to see stars in the blackness, and I can't slow my breathing. Scattering the purse's contents on the ground, I fumble for my phone. My ears are ringing.

I feel the phone under my left hand. My hands are shaking violently, but I manage to turn on the flashlight. I start to take stock of my surroundings. Shopping cart. Shelves. Paper towels. Toilet paper. Pile of my crap. I still can't hear shit over the roaring of the wind. I can taste blood--I think I bit my tongue. I can taste sweat on my upper lip, too. I brush my fingers across my forehead and they come off slick.

I'm starting to get my breathing under control now. I gather my belongings from the floor. As I pinch at the last bobby pin, I check my phone's battery.

It's at 2%.

I can feel myself starting to breath rapidly again. I shut my eyes and force myself to take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. I'll be okay, I just need to figure this out. I open my eyes and wave my phone light around, but its beam is too wide and unfocused to shine more than about fifteen feet away.

Whatever. It's gonna be okay. Pretty sure batteries are on the next aisle, and there's probably some cheap flashlights there. I make my way around the corner. Outlet adapters... extension cords... night lights... batteries, light bulbs, insecticide--okay, too far. Gotta be in this section.

Frantically, I scan the racks and shelves in front of me. Do they not sell flashlights here? I check my phone--still at 2%. For a moment I stand torn. Maybe I should just try to make my way to the front of the store and hope for the best.

I give the rack one last glance when I see the flashlight--somebody put a package of wall hangers over it. I tear them off the wall and grab the light.

Fuck!

It's in one of those fucking un-openable plastic cases. I need scissors. Where are they? I look around. They're not here... and I'm not sure where they'd be.

I continue to fight for deep breaths as I search my immediate area for something sharp. Nothing. The ringing in my ears hasn't gone away, but I can still hear the wind.

Once again I dump my purse on the floor. I search desperately for something to cut with, and I come up with a pair of nail scissors. I lean my phone against a shelf and get to work.

The scissors start to bend and twist immediately, but I get about half an inch cut through. I hope it's enough. I grip the tear on both sides and try my best to rip it.

I can see the plastic just starting to shear when it slips out of my right hand. The edge rakes down the side of my thumb almost to my wrist, and I nearly punch myself in the face with my left hand.

Tears burst from my eyes, but I manage not to cry out. My right hand is extended just beyond the pale light from my phone. I pull it back to take a closer look.

It's worse than I thought--dull throbbing explodes into searing agony as I see the deep strip of exposed flesh and the loose shred of skin bunched at the bottom.

I clutch my wrist and scream soundlessly for several seconds. In my head I'm cursing everyone from the idiot who invented plastic to the fuckwit who put the flashlight on the rack.

I feel and see blood pooling at the top of my left hand. I need something for that. Fuck. I can't take my eyes off the loose strip of skin.

I pick up the damaged nail scissors and carefully slide the blades around the skin. They slide right over it as I squeeze, too bent and dulled to cut through. I stifle a cry as the skin tears a bit more.

Reopening the scissors, I press the bottom blade against my thumb so it nearly bites the skin, then I pull the loose flap down and across the blade. It feels like a kitchen knife cutting through raw meat.

I pick up my phone to get a closer look at my handiwork. My cut is fairly clean, all things considered. I'm still bleeding though, and my ears haven't stopped ringing.

I check my phone's battery. It's at 1%.

Fuck, fuck!

My breaths are getting shallow again. I can't see a thing past the light from my phone.

I need to get to the front of the store, and I need a fucking bandaid or something. I pick up the flashlight, still in its packaging, and head up the aisle. I should pass the pharmacy on my way toward the exit.

I'm almost at the end of the row. In front of me a baby carrier appears on the floor just at the edge of my light. It looks like there's a baby sleeping inside.

All of a sudden everything goes dark. My phone just died.

I can't see a goddamn thing, but the faint outline of the baby carrier still glows in my retinas. I guess the distance in my head, and I start to walk carefully in its direction.

After a few paces I slow to a crawl, taking short steps as I reach out in front of me. I feel like I should have made it to the carrier by now; have I passed it?

I drop to my knees and start pawing at the air in all directions. Finally my fingers brush the plastic handle--it's right in front of me.

My voice sounds muffled as I try to comfort the baby, who is crying. I have her in my arms, but she won't stop. Mostly I just hear ringing, and I can barely tell whether my eyes are open or closed.

A blinding light washes over me, stabbing through my eyes and right into my skull. I scream and hold the baby tight. Everything goes dark again, and something grabs at me.

I pull the child close to my side and lash out with the flashlight in its jagged-edged container. The thing lets out a muted but terrible howl.

I strike again, and I feel resistance as the plastic bites into something. The container slips from my hand, but the claw-like hand has retreated. I scramble to my feet and around the creature, heading toward the front of the store.

As I make it past the end of the aisle, I see the faintest light coming from my left. Another muffled screech sounds behind me and I begin to sprint to the light.

I can see the front doors clearly now, but it's barely lighter outside than in here. I barrel into a product display, and I fall hard on my right shoulder, clutching the baby to protect her. She is wailing now.

I struggle back to my feet and rush on past the registers. The wind is almost unbearably loud now, but I keep going.

More claws snatch at me from the darkness, but I don't stop. I'm nearly at the main doors now.

There's just enough light to see the vestibule. The doors aren't working; the inner one is stuck open, and the outer one is stuck shut.

I can't slow down. Pain shoots through my right side as I ram my shoulder into the door, forcing it open. I scream as I run into the parking lot.

I still can't see shit on account of the snow. The wind is deafening, but the ringing is louder. My nose feels like it's frozen solid already. I tuck the baby under my coat. I think she's stopped crying.

My right hand is getting numb and stiff, along with my feet. I march on and look for shelter.

The next morning, the sun crept over the horizon to show a clear blue sky. The plows had nearly finished clearing the streets. Police lights flashed harshly in the soft morning light, and a pair of officers interviewed a huddled group of employees and customers while another pair strung tape around the parking lot. An ambulance pulled out onto the street, sirens blaring. Near the edge of the lot, another officer photographed the bodies of a young woman and the frozen baby she held in her arms.