“I’ve got movement. Behind the black car, near the hood,” said Robert, bringing his rifle to rest on a place where there was no glass in the front window and aiming at the target.
“Can you get a shot?”
“No, they’re behind the engine block.”
Ben glanced back at the backroom door. It was partially open now. He tapped Robert on the shoulder. “We’ve got company.”
Robert held a finger to his lips as a sign to be quiet. He motioned to Ben that he was going to stay at the front window to keep an eye on the fellow in the parking lot. Robert balanced the rifle on the windowsill and stayed low.
Ben slowly crept toward his dog. He whistled quietly and motioned for the dog to come toward him. Ben took slow, quiet steps toward the dog while he kept an eye on the backdoor of the store. He knew someone was back there because the door had been opened slightly, and dog’s warning gave their position away. Ben turned to see Robert intently staring at the black car at the far edge of the parking lot. He was squinting with one eye, targeting the car in the rifle’s sights, not paying attention to Ben or the dog.
Ben reached Lucky just as the backdoor of the store swung violently open. He heard voices in the backroom then, and in a loud, but young-sounding voice, someone yelled, “Just leave your horses! We’ll let you leave unharmed. Don’t do anything stupid.”
The dog began to bark loudly toward the dark backroom. Ben was beside his dog and extended his hand around the dog in an attempt to restrain the animal. He held her and his pistol tightly, and then turned to make eye contact with Robert. Robert motioned for him to stay silent, and then pointed out the window indicating that he could now see the person watching them from the parking lot.
“What’s it going to be?” shouted the voice from the backroom. “You’re trapped. Give up and leave. Now!”
Ben looked back at Robert again, shrugging his shoulders. Robert pointed back out the window and motioned for him to watch. Robert leveled the rifle on the front windowsill. The intruder outside was carelessly exposing his body and Robert could see the barrel of a rifle. The two men were crouched low in the store, and it would be difficult for the intruder’s lookout to see them. The lookout recklessly tried to see into the store and in doing so had made himself a target for Robert’s rifle. Robert aimed for the torso and slowly pulled the trigger. There was a loud crack from his rifle and the lookout’s body slumped to the ground. Robert looked back toward Ben and gave him the thumbs up sign.
“Hey, I said don’t do anything stupid. Just walk away!” exclaimed the voice again from the backroom.
Robert slowly crawled over to Ben and his dog. Ben still had an arm around the dog in an effort to control her position. She wanted to lunge into the backroom and was barking loudly and viciously. Robert put his hand on Ben’s shoulder for balance and partially raised himself from the floor. Robert yelled toward the backroom. “You should leave before this gets bad for you. It’s not worth dying over.”
Robert moved to the other side of Ben and the dog. He wanted to position himself closer to the backroom door. Robert reached across Lucky for Ben’s shoulder to balance himself as he partially rose up from the floor again. He was going to yell toward the intruders in the backroom, but when Robert moved his arm across the dog, Ben mistakenly thought Robert was going to help hold her, so he let go, and Lucky sprinted into the backroom. Ben raised his body to lunge for her, but it was too late. She had disappeared. In that instant Robert turned to look at Ben and saw his body tense and panic flood his face. Almost immediately, they heard yelling from the backroom, the sound of two shotgun blasts, and finally, the yelp of a dog. In the silence that followed, Ben’s panicked expression turned to anger. He sprinted toward the dark backroom holding his revolver forward, ready to fire. He entered the backroom at full speed and Robert saw six orange flashes from his pistol, intermittently illuminating the darkness of the backroom. Screams and groaning were followed by silence.
Robert cautiously advanced toward the door to the backroom. The open door allowed for only a small amount of light to enter. Just past the door, Robert could barely see the lifeless body of Lucky, Ben’s German shepherd. The dog had jumped into the shotgun blasts, with no chance of survival. Ben was kneeling by his dog. Behind Ben, further into the darkness, were two lifeless bodies. They were young men, probably teenagers, and lay sprawled on the floor. One had a shotgun on the floor next to him. The weapon was a double-barreled breach-loader. The kid had discharged both shells and did not get to reload before Ben entered the room, shooting them at point-blank range. Pain and damage of the bullet wounds had contorted their bodies.
Robert pushed the exit door to the alley open. Sunlight poured in, illuminating the carnage. The rays of light shone through the smoke and cast eerie shadows across the bodies. He checked outside the door and saw no one else. They were alone again in the bloody aftermath. A breeze came through the door that Robert had propped open. It began to take the smoke and putrid smell of death away from the backroom, but could not remove Ben’s anguish over his dog. Robert pulled the two bodies out the door and left them on the black asphalt. He then walked around to the front of the store where they had tied the horses, and put the intruders’ shotgun and rifle into Ben’s saddlebag. He scratched the two horses on the head and neck for a moment before he went back inside to retrieve the antibiotics.
It was nearly an hour before Ben could walk away from his dog and go to the storefront where Robert was waiting for him.
Robert sat on the sidewalk with his knees drawn upward to allow him to wrap his forearms around his knees. He was swinging the bag of antibiotic bottles back and forth, bumping his shins, admiring the heft of the bag and how, even after splitting with Ben, they would leave with an abundance of medication.
Ben walked toward Robert and sat on the ground near him.
“I’m sorry about your dog,” Robert softly remarked.
“She was a good dog.” Ben cleared his throat and took several deep breaths before slowly exhaling. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell my son about this.” Ben paused, trying to control his grief. “I do know that she sacrificed her life for ours.” Ben hung his head low and shook it back and forth, trying to suppress his grief.
Robert shook the bag full of bottles, rattling the capsules inside. “We should go,” he said, shaking the bottles once more.
Ben stood up and brushed the dust from his pants. “Yeah, let’s go. We need to beat sundown.” He adjusted his hat and walked directly toward his horse, not looking back.
Robert followed in quick succession with the sack of antibiotics in hand.
Both men untied the reins and mounted their horses simultaneously. Ben gently spurred his horse and Robert’s horse followed. The echo from the rhythmic clack of the horseshoes on the pavement slowly faded away as they got farther from the strip mall. They passed the bank, wrecked from dynamite, and crossed onto the street. They rode into the setting sun as they left the apocalyptic scenery behind them.
After several miles, Ben leaned forward on the saddle horn and adjusted his position. He tilted his hat forward to shade his eyes and looked at Robert riding next to him.
“Did you ever think your life would be like this?” asked Ben.
“Never. I took everything I had for granted.” Robert gestured around the horizon with his hand. “The grid went down and took everything with it.” He shook his head in disbelief. “The grid supported our lifestyle and civilization, and now it’s all gone. This is a nightmare I’ll never wake up from.”