Melissa shakes her head. “No, but I believe you if you say you heard it. Whatever it is, it can’t be good.”
Karl takes a deep breath and hears Clay do the same. “Something is down there.” He motions down the aisle with his sword. “And whatever it is, I’m guessing it’s the reason Mayowen insisted we check this place out.”
He peers into the darkness again, listening as hard as he can for a repeat performance of the scuttling sound. Nothing.
Karl turns to face Melissa. “It’s your call, fearless leader. I’ll do whatever you say.”
Melissa tries to swallow, finds that her mouth and throat had gone bone dry, and tries again. This time the swallow goes down with a rough clicking sound. “Ok. Get in tight. Karl, you’re on my right. Clay, you’re on my left. We move slow and stay together. I’m talking within arm’s reach of one another at all times. This isn’t the time or place for any sort of diplomacy or hesitation. You see something, you kill it. Understood?”
Clay and Karl both nod their understanding and step into their positions closer to her. They slowly start to make their way down the aisle, knowing their approaching whatever it was that made both the hissing and skittering sounds. Karl strains his eyes as he passes aisles of toilet paper, paper towels, and cleaning supplies. The blue flame casts just enough light to see two arm lengths down an aisle before the blackness swallows it up. On Clay’s side, he can see piles of towels, torn comforters, and a few of those full body pillows strewn about. Each of them are listening so intently that their temples started to pound.
An outside observer would instantly notice the similarity between how Melissa, Karl, and Clay are moving down the aisle and how Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Scarecrow, and the Cowardly Lion had moved down the long hallway on their way to the chamber of the Great and Powerful Oz. All that is missing is to have one of them break off and run, terrified, back the way they’d come. But that doesn’t happen.
With steady, purposeful steps, they near the end of the main aisle. To their left is the Craft department. To their right the main aisle continues down through Toys, Sporting Goods, and eventually Automotive.
They start down the aisle to the right, none of them talking for fear that they might not hear some danger lurking off in the darkness on either side. The idea of missing some barely audible notification of impending danger stuck in each of their minds. None of them wanted to be the blabber-mouth responsible for getting the whole damn group killed. So they press on, silent and steady.
A small, wide aisle juts out on their left, just before the start of the Toy department. Each of them knows that the aisle leads to a back room where the Garden Center is typically set up. Pieces of several smashed gas grills are visible at the aisle’s mouth. A mixture of a low growl and a hiss greets them from the darkness, causing them all to stop. Melissa turns, willing the light to stretch out down the side aisle, toward the source of the sound. As she does, the tac, tac, tac sound that Karl thought he heard before becomes the skittering sound that they now all know they hear. It is the sound of countless pointy legs clamoring to get a foothold on the smooth tile floor, and it raises gooseflesh on all of their arms.
As is usually the case, Karl is the first to comment. “That can’t be fuckin’ good.”
“What do you think it was? Rats, maybe?” Clay is crouched low, a dagger in each hand, nearly disappearing within a shadow stretching along the floor.
“Only if they’re 20 pound rats with wooden, pirate-style peg legs.” Karl looks at Melissa who looks back at him disapprovingly. “Honestly, I don’t know what the hell that could be.”
Karl stares intently at the blue flame hovering over Melissa’s hand. “Wait a second. Is that, like, a real flame? I mean, is it hot?”
Melissa narrows her eyes at him, trying to figure out where he is going with this. “Yeah, but what does that have to do with—”
Before she can finish, Karl takes off running down the aisle toward Sporting Goods. He doesn’t have to go far – only about 10 steps or so, but as far as Melissa could tell, he was once again running off to play the fucking hero. “Dammit, Karl! Get back here!”
Karl doesn’t bother answering her. There isn’t time to debate things right now. Not with that – whatever the hell it was – out there. He spots what he is going after just on the edge of the flame’s glow – an overturned rack of aluminum baseball bats. He bends over, grabs three of the bats and piles them in his arms as if he’s gathering wood for a fire.
Satisfied that he has what he needs, Karl turns and starts back toward Melissa and Clay. “Clay,” he whispers loudly. “I need a sheet. Just one. Do you think you can get one back in Bedding?”
Clay dashes off toward Bedding, more than happy to have even a moment away from that terrible skittering sound. “I’m on it!”
Melissa looks at Karl. “I hope you know what you’re doing. For a second I thought—”
“You thought I was going to ditch you and Clay.” Even in the soft glow of the blue flame, Karl can see color rush to Melissa’s cheeks. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for thinking that. But I didn’t.”
A fresh round of skittering legs across tile causes them both to jump a little.
“I want to kill whatever that is just to stop that damn noise, if for nothing else.” Melissa peers down the dark aisle, both wanting to see what’s causing that noise, and not wanting to see.
Karl grins. “Can’t argue with that.”
“Here you go!”
Melissa’s heart skips a beat at the sudden sound of Clay’s voice. Judging by his labored breathing it is clear that the boy had been running. But once again, his movements didn’t make a sound. Dear lord. He’s like a ghost, Melissa thinks.
Clay holds out a large sheet covered in images of pretty pink flowers and swirling green vines toward Karl.
Karl nods approvingly and chuckles. “Nice work. Although I wouldn’t have pegged you to have such feminine taste in bedding.”
Clay leers are Karl. “I just grabbed the first sheet I could find!”
“Relax, kiddo. Just bustin’ yer chops. Now cut it into thin strips, about four inches wide running the length of the sheet. Think your blades can handle that?”
Clay pulls out one of his daggers and makes quick work of the first strip. Karl takes it and wraps it around the head of one of the bats, knotting it at the end. By the time Karl is finished with the this first one, Clay is holding out two more strips of the sheet.
Karl takes them and gets to work wrapping another bat. “That should be enough. Thanks, kid.”
When Karl finishes wrapping the tops of all three bats, he holds one out in front of himself. “Ok, Mel, if you would be so kind, please move the flame under the sheet.”
Understanding dawns on Melissa’s face. “Torches? You’re making torches?”
“If this works, yeah. I think we’re going to need all the light we can get in there. And besides, in the movies, monsters are always afraid of fire. Maybe we’ll get lucky and have the same thing happen here.”
Melissa slips her open hand under the top of the first bat. The blue flame darkens a bit of the sheet, but it refuses to catch. Karl closes his eyes, an exasperated breath escaping his lips. “Dammit.”
Melissa leans in close to the flame. “Exuro.”
The blue flame blossoms orange and then white, rising as if someone had turned up the burner on a stove. The sheet catches fire almost at once.
Melissa winces in pain and closes her fist, shaking it several times. “Shit, shit!”
Karl bends down,