Fury, Part I: Tempers Rising (Charon Chronicles post-apocalyptic horror series) by J. R. Andrews

Author:J. R. Andrews [Andrews, J. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ferrousox Press
Published: 2024-01-16T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

The door inched open under the pressure of Tom’s hand. As soon as the opening was wide enough for Lady to slink through, she entered the storage room. Tom nearly whistled to try and hold her back, but he thought better of alerting whatever was holed up back there to their presence. He popped his head through the gap and paused to let his eyes adjust to the darkness inside. Skids of soda and water stood to the left of the door, and in front of him, several rows of short shelves ran perpendicular to the door itself. Hundreds of dollars of forgotten backroom stock sat on them, likely to collect dust until the packaging withered to nothing.

Lady stood a few feet from him, sniffing another dark spot on the concrete floor, only one drop, unlike the others she’d found, but much larger and partially smeared like something had shuffled through it.

Great, it probably was a plaguer.

The dog showed no signs of giving up on whatever foolish crusade she was committed to, though, so Tom slipped the rest of his body through the doorway while making as little noise as possible. He held his gun at the ready but angled to the ground the way he’d been taught by his grandfather. He moved to Lady, who stared with intent to his right, but a tall stack of boxes kept him from seeing anything beyond it.

If she intended to keep an eye on that side of the room, he might as well make sure no surprises waited to their left. Moving carefully, he checked around each skid and glanced through the shelving aisles. Nothing but convenience store stock.

Satisfied, he sidled up next to Lady, looking toward the boxes obscuring that side of the room. The dog took a step forward.

Were they really going to do this? It was damn near madness. He could just let her go, of course, but that dog had been the only real friend he’d had since last October. If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. Especially if he might have prevented it.

He took a slow step after her, forcing himself not to breathe but once every ten seconds or so. With each step, he stopped to focus on the room, searching for the kind of noise not even a mouse would make or an unnatural shift in the air giving away something’s movement. One tense step followed the next as they grew closer to the ceiling-high column of cardboard Charmin boxes.

At last, just when the pulse racing in his ears neared deafening, they reached the boxes. Tom gave Lady the hand signal to stay. Her ears perked forward into stiff, furry triangles, but she stayed put.

Positioning himself with his back to the column and facing Lady, Tom closed his eyes and took another breath. Not nearly as deep and soothing as he would have liked, but stealth took precedence. Peering over his right shoulder, he tried to peek past the stockroom barricade to first get a look at whatever was in there with them, if anything.

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