Free Pulse by Eloise J. Knapp Page B

next to their apartment building. Across the road was a strip mall with a pawn shop, a Rite Aid, and some beauty parlors. Living on the outskirts of Seattle meant a somewhat less crowded population, more space, and dinky little shops no one cared about.
    The perfect place to swarm for resources.
    He wondered if there hadn't been a sporting goods store there, would the neighborhood have fallen into chaos as fast as it did? The lure of survival goods and ammunition was probably overwhelming to the frantic urges of desperate people. With its huge parking lot, it was easy access. If Dom lived in Seattle proper, he’d travel far to try places like this, too.
    Then again, he did when he went across the bridge to Wal-Mart. And it resulted in two near death experiences.
    Brian had been keeping an eye on the street after they saw a news report on a roaming gang of looters in the area when two men parked their trucks and headed for the store. They both had a handful of friends with them, but it was obvious they didn’t know each other.
    When the groups spotted each other, they approached the doors to the shop with hesitation. They gestured to one another. Hands up in front of them in the universal gesture for peace.
    At first it seemed okay. They tugged at the doors—locked, since the store didn’t open until mid-morning—then seemed to discuss something for a while. One must’ve said something the other didn’t like, and that’s when the first punch was thrown and the two groups merged into a brawl.
    After the first punch landed, it went downhill from there. One pulled a gun on the other, shot and killed him, and then everyone gave up on talking or being rational. No one could ever be the hero, not when the whole city was turning against each other. Eventually someone broke the big display windows in the shop and they started scrambling in like ants.
    From there , people driving by stopped and entered the fray. Some of them headed straight for the shop. Others entered the fight; whether to try and stop it or take a side, Dom wasn’t sure.
    Dom couldn't look once the rioting started. Brian updated him every ten minutes on what was happening. There was something about the ragtag group of neighbors fighting each other that made his gut tighten and his head spin. Soccer moms, people still in work clothes, and even a few that were definitely too young to be there.
    "They finally broke the doors," Brian interjected, breaking him from his thoughts. “But they’re still using the windows.”
    The fight spread to the Rite Aid. They were looting the stores and fleeing back to their apartment s or vehicles. Despite Dom telling her she shouldn’t, Chelsea joined Brian in watching from their fourth story view.
    It was like a videogame. They were so displaced from it, it started to become surreal. This wasn't reality. They weren't across the street from people hammering each other's faces into the concrete, shooting each other. They weren't waiting to see who lived or who died.
    And it most definitely wasn't the end of the world. 
     
    ***
     
    Dom couldn't remember what town the incident happened in. He couldn't remember what news channel he watched it on, what he'd been watching before, or what happened after. All he could remember was the sight of the naked bodies hanging from the overpass in Montana.
    The camera panned across the bodies one by one, each of them mutilated with holes and gashes in their bodies, rope tied around their necks. When he saw the two children side by side, intestines looping out of their small stomachs, he heard Chelsea turn, dash into the kitchen, and retch into the sink.
    "It's…it's hard to watch," the news anchor choked as the footage ended and was back on him. His face was white, eyes flat. "Reports of violent, insane acts are showing up all over areas that have been infected. Officials have reported that in some cases, infected individuals are exhibiting signs of complete insanity. These individuals