The 0714 Files: File #1 Inferno (Remake 2)

Chapter 21

10:27 P.M

I ignore the bike for now and walk to the station's front door. The blinds are closed and through the door's glass it looks dark inside. Quietly opening it sounds a bell installed at the top to ring when the door knocks into it and reveals the lights are off. I squint my eyes at the pitch-black surroundings past the first shelf. A flashlight sits alone on the ground in front of me, shining towards the ice cream cooler to the left. I hurry inside to pick it up and scan the shelves in front of me.

The rack closest to me has a few tampon boxes knocked off, along with a few medicine bottles. Beside them spattered on the ground looks like large pools of blood, like someone wounded walked in here at some point.

There's a lump in my throat, this doesn't feel right. "Hello? Anyone there?"

Somebody is gasping from somewhere further into the station while what sounds like a skirmish is going on in possibly the back room. I can hear grunting and snarling; the cop car comes to mind. Is the clerk in trouble? Maybe the store was being robbed and now the robber is putting up a fight against the cop while being detained?

I stand and walk past the shelves to the end of the isle. Bloody footprints lead around the left corner where the refrigerators are.

Shining a light down a second row of shelves with more items knocked onto the bloodied floor. I switch the light rapidly to a man collapsed beside it. An open door is next to him leading behind the refrigerators. His hands and neck are covered in blood, I run over without thinking and kneel. "Hey, are you okay?" I shout, anxiety getting the better of me.

He's clutching his throat, red streams of blood seep between his fingers and stain his blue shirt. I lift a hand towards his, instinct taking over. Chris taught me how to deal with injuries, putting pressure on them is the first step. There's nothing around to use, unless I tear a part of my shirt or his. Maybe if I look around, I'll find something else to use—

I spot the name tag and realize this is the store clerk; I chastise myself for sitting there, gaping at the man as he bleeds out. "Hold on, I'm gonna call an ambulance!" I stand. Ready to run back outside—

"Wait," he rasps, grabbing my wrist with his bloody hand before I leave and shakes his head when I look back at him. I gape at the wound on his neck, it looks like a bite. Somebody bit this guy? Who does that? Pointing to the open door, "Customer came in. Officer might need help," he pants, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Help him or help the officer? My body makes the decision before my brain does and I'm walking through the door. I'll come back for the clerk the second I know the officer is okay.

There's light back here, I can see half opened and unpacked boxes, cases of beer, and liters of soda waiting to be stocked in the station. Ten feet ahead, the door to the back room sits ajar. The sounds of the struggle get louder as I approach the door.

The growling frightens me. Making me want to turn around and assist the clerk instead. "You can do this," I tell myself, Chris raised me to be brave. Not to be a chicken shit.

I place a hand on the SLS 60 in my thigh holster, nervous of what I'll find behind that door. Though there are only five bullets in it and the rest are tucked away in the small leather bag strapped around my waist. Pushing the door open, my light shows a man in a sheriff's uniform trying to hold a man back with his hand at the attacker's throat. "I said hold still!" he orders through his teeth.

"Excuse me, is everything okay?" he's obviously struggling to keep the man pushed back.

There's blood on his cheek when he turns around and puts a hand out to keep me away. "Stay back ma'am, I got this," he assures. That split second, he drops his guard the man in front of him uses to his advantage. He lifts the sheriff's arm and manages to turn the him around and trip him. He drops to his hands and knees then and presses a hand into the sheriff's shoulder blade, forcing the him to the ground. I'm frozen in place, helplessly watching as the man lowers his mouth. He bares his teeth caked in something red before sinking them into the sheriff's throat.