Rise of Chaos (3/4)
A timeworn pick-up truck pulled up in the parking lot, in front of the grocery store. The shop's interior was flooded with light from the pair of headlights, and jagged shadows fell across a strange and terrible scene where the performers were frozen like statues for a fleeting moment.
Chuck knitted his brow. The bright light stung his eyes, but that was not all... A strange sensation that he could not articulate crept over him. Promptly, three people alighted from the vehicle, outlined as silhouettes by the blazing headlights. Chuck glimpsed a woman among them. He also noted what seemed like a rifle on the shoulder of one of the men.
One of them rudely shoved the door ajar and barged inside, cigarette clamped between his lips, and swaggered toward the counter. In the light of the oil lamp, everything appeared exaggerated, distorted. The ambiance was dim, ominous. The putrid stench of tobacco filled the air.
"Hello Jack…" stammered the grocer. "Sorry, but we're closed today due to a power outage."
Jack surveyed his surroundings in silence, discerning the shapes lurking in the darkness. He gestured in a circular motion to indicate all the individuals present.
"And I guess these are all repairmen, are they? Hmm?"
The grocer was at a loss for words.
"You see, it's bedlam outside," spat Jack, expelling smoke in the vendor's face. "Everyone's in a panic in the city right now!"
The grocer trembled under Jack's gaze, while the other two guffawed in the background. Chuck stayed quiet.
"You can guess why we're here, can't you?" Jack continued, grinning. "Given the circumstances, we just want to prepare ourselves. Stock up on supplies... You wouldn't want us to die from hunger outside, would you?"
The grocer inclined his head, acquiescing. It seemed that he knew the trio well.
"No, no... I understand your predicament, but..." he faltered.
The woman advanced towards the counter. She was dressed carelessly, her clothes dirty, and despite the lamp's dim light, her sharp features and distaste for the grocer was plain to see.
"Friends help each other out, don't they?" she taunted. "You wouldn't want to disappoint us, would you, Bernie? We're old pals, huh!"
"N-no... It's not that I..." the grocer stammered.
"Great! Glad to hear it!" she exclaimed. "We'll help ourselves! Much obliged, Bernie, you're a peach!"
The old grocer held the counter at his back for support, ashamed to be caught in such a compromising situation. His wife, standing next to Eva and her mother, glowered at him darkly.
Jack watched on with an indifferent air, puffing on his cigarette. The man with the rifle had moved closer to Bryan's still body, crouching slightly to examine the head injury.
Chuck gave him a menacing stare, wordlessly conveying his familiarity with such types of people, that one step out of line would spell trouble. He hoped the storm would blow over swiftly. Food could be found elsewhere, but his primary concern was getting to the hospital. No need to take undue risks.
At last, the young man retreated with a contemptuous glare as Jack beckoned him over.
"Hey, Billy! Hurry up and gather as much as you can!"
Chuck looked at the two men more closely. They bore a striking resemblance, and their relationship confounded him. Likely from the same family... He needed to stay cool and composed. However, with Bryan's precarious condition and the arrival of these strangers, he felt anxious. Time was slipping away, perhaps even to his detriment…
Billy began to stuff a bag with chocolate bars and candy, snickering like a simpleton. He had already forgotten about Bryan, preoccupied with his own task.
The farmer advanced, his hand resting on his firearm. "You don't seem to understand," he stated. "Bernie already told you that the store was closed. I strongly advise you to depart..."
"Mind your own business, old man!" Jack jeered. "I'd hate to have to bash in your last teeth..."
Billy's laughter echoed through the store as he reached for more candies from the shelf. The woman joined in, her peals of laughter ringing through the air.
"Pretty gun," scoffed Jack, looking at the old man's belt. "You think your little toy can frighten us? There's no lawman here to stop us, as far as I can see."
But to their astonishment, a figure emerged from the shadows, brandishing a badge and a revolver. He set down his oil lamp on the counter and spoke with a steely resolve.
"Well, as it happens, there is. So let's all remain calm, shall we?"
The woman was dumbfounded, but Jack, the leader, was not so easily swayed. In a show of bravado, he locked eyes with the officer and snatched a bag of dried meat from the counter, a smirk playing across his lips.
This time, the farmer took action. He seized Jack's arm. In a flash, Jack produced a colossal firearm, a magnum, and aimed it at the old man's chest.
"Hold on there, cowboy! Step back! You shall place your firearm gently on the ground, right now, alright?"
The officer stepped close behind Jack.
"Surrender your weapon, this instant!"