Tarra looked back the way they’d come. “Maybe we should have stayed, and all left together? What if there were more men in the back? Someone else might get the drop on them.”
“Naw,” Grayson said. “That’s not gonna to happen again. But for taking the bigger risk, they’re also taking the lion’s share of any food and supplies they find. Fair deal, if you ask me, for them saving our asses. My guess is not a bullet more will fly. If there were more gangbangers in there, they all would’a come running.”
Jake slid into another turn, causing them all to lose their place and slide together.
They righted themselves and Grayson turned to yell toward Jake’s window. “Where you going? This is the wrong way!”
Not getting an answer, Grayson re-situated himself and checked his firearm. Tucker and Tarra did the same. Tarra glanced up at Frank and Mickey. “Be ready this time, boys. If you pull some sort of mickey mouse bullshit like that again, we’re leaving your asses out here somewhere,” she said with a stern voice, emphasis on the ‘mickey’ and the ‘mouse.’
As if they hadn’t already felt like cowards, Tarra has just handed them their balls.
The road straightened out before them, and Tarra leaned up and quickly told Tina all that had happened in the store, and Tina relayed it to Jake. But they had made it this far; they weren’t going home with nothing after the day they’d had. So far, seven people dead… and they were still empty handed. Jake was determined to not have to come back to town again. He relayed that to Tina, and she relayed it to Tarra through the window, and she in turn told the guys.
They’d continue until they found some baby formula, at the very least.
Jake pulled Ruby into a small strip mall and cut the engine. Everyone turned to check it out, looking especially hard for any gang signs this time—there were none.
One long rectangular building housed a Chinese restaurant, a massage spa, a drycleaner and a nail salon. Several units were just empty spaces, and all the businesses appeared to be deserted. The restaurant had been looted, with not a piece of glass left standing. Inside they could see toppled tables and chairs. The doors to the massage spa and nail salon stood wide open, appearing to be deserted. Nothing looked disturbed. Maybe there was nothing worth stealing.
The dry cleaner shop had also been broken into. One whole sheet of glass on the sidewalk glimmered like a sparkling welcome mat.
Everyone got out and convened on one side, keeping Ruby between them and the building while they looked and listened for signs of life.
After a few moments, Jake pointed at the drycleaner shop. “The same family owns all of these businesses, and they live in the back of that one. Mr. Chen is the boss, and family patriarch.”
They all looked at him in confusion.
“And?” Tina asked.
“The last time I dropped off some dry-cleaning for Gabby, I noticed two of his daughters have babies. Small babies. I saw them breastfeeding, but maybe they have some formula.”
“Could be,” Tina said. “Sometimes the doctors send some home with the mothers when they leave the hospital, just in case.”
Tucker unholstered his sidearm. “Let’s check it out.”
Jake held up a hand, palm out. “We can’t all go in, guns a ‘blazing and demand things. We’re going to ask them if they have any. And they don’t know you. So, I’ll go in and take Tina and Tarra with me. They’ll recognize me—hopefully—and won’t feel so threatened with the ladies. Maybe we can get in and out with no bloodshed this time.”
Grayson and Tucker nodded their agreement.
Frank and Mickey didn’t say a word. Mickey stood still, waiting with his arms crossed, looking out away from the group, while Frank circled nearby, kicking at small rocks.
“Mr. Chen?” Jake yelled.
He, Tina and Tarra had made their way over the broken glass and into the dry cleaner shop. They stood staring through an avalanche of downed clothes and equipment, hangers laying all a ‘tangle, at the closed door on the back wall. It looked as though Mr. Chen might have knocked everything down himself, providing camouflage. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know they were there.
But Jake knew.
He happened to drop by to pick up clothes one day when Mr. Chen arrived with a used refrigerator. After seeing Mr. Chen’s small-framed daughters trying unsuccessfully to help their father, he’d offered to help carry it in. Mr. Chen had accepted his help. He’d seen their living quarters up close and personal in the back of the store.
Jake whispered. “I’ll go first. You two take cover somewhere.”
Tina and Tarra split up, each going to an opposite side of the door, holding their guns close to their chest as they flattened themselves on the wall, flanking Jake.
He knocked and stood to the right of it.
No answer.
He knocked again, much louder. “Mr. Chen? It’s me, Jake. One of your customers. I drive the old red Chevy truck. Remember? I call the truck Ruby.”
Several times, Mr. Chen had commented on his truck. Jake hoped that would ring a bell with him.
A very Asian voice answered him. “We close now. Go away!”
“Can you open the door? I need to talk to you,” Jake called through the closed door.
“We no open for business!” the voice called back.
“Mr. Chen! Please, I need your help,” Jake called insistently.
A pause, and then, “Who with you?”
“Two women. They’re friends.”
Jake was startled as the door suddenly cracked open. A very disheveled Mr. Chen poked his nose out, a pair of bifocals perched on the end of it. His short, black hair stood up in tufts around his head. “What you need?” he asked.
“Mr. Chen, thank you for opening the door. My friend has a baby, younger than your grandchildren. Do you have any extra formula?”
Mr. Chen poked his head out further and looked at Tina and Tarra. They stood empty-handed as they’d both had the wherewithal to re-holster their guns before he saw them. He eyeballed the women with disapproval anyway. “No milk. Good bye,” he said stiffly.
The door slammed shut, followed by the click of a lock.
Tina and Tarra shared an amused smile.
Jake sighed and knocked again. “Mr. Chen. Please. The child is very sick. She’s hungry and not old enough to eat food. Do you have anything back there we could give her?”
The door popped open and Mr. Chen stuck his head out again. “Where is baby?”
Jake grabbed the edge of the door, hoping to keep it open. This was their last chance. “Back at the house. Please, do you have any?”
Mr. Chen’s eye narrowed. “What you have for me?”
Jake looked around, lost for words. “We didn’t bring anything. What do you want?”
Mr. Chen looked Tucker over, head to toe, eyeballing the gun holstered to his side. “You have gun. I have baby milk. You give me gun. I give you milk.”
Jake shook his head and held his hands out, palms up. “That’s not a fair trade at all, Mr. Chen.”
The door slammed shut again. From behind the door, a fierce but squeaky voice yelled, “No deal!”
Jake stared at the door, deep in thought. He hated this gun anyway. He’d love to not have to carry a firearm at all before he too was forced to shoot at someone. But he had no doubt if he walked out to the truck unarmed, Grayson would already be planning to give him another.
Grayson had plenty. They could spare this one.