With stealth and a bit of dumb luck.

A tremor of fear rippled through your body. You didn’t see any guns on them, which was a blessing, but that sword with its lengthy blade spattered with blood was an ominous vision and you weren’t keen to meet the business end of it.

Turning to Bonnie you pressed your finger to your lips in a shushing gesture and quickly led her down the other end of the aisle. She paused briefly to gather up the items she had selected earlier, confusion on her face as you tugged her onwards.

“What the hell’s going on?” She asked in a low whisper, “Who were those guys?”

“Those were from the same group of crazy sons of bitches who shot up Mr Locknae,” you replied, leading your sister down a few different aisles until you came upon Mr Spellman and a few of the others as they began to load up karts with canned goods and other supplies.

The older man knew something was up right away. “Trouble?”

“Our friends from the garage,” you said, “three of them, armed with blades….one guy had a fucking sword.”

“Think they followed us here?”

You shrugged. “Looked like they were scavenging, just like us.”

Spellman looked around behind you, to the karts of goods and then back at a few of the guys. You could see the gears of his mind turn as he processed everything, weighing the variables. Eventually he released a sigh and nodded grimly.

“Ok,” he replied, “help some of the guys load the rest of this stuff into the trucks and we’ll get out of here.”

You shifted uneasily. “Have we got everything?”

“Not the full shopping list,” he groaned, rubbing at his temple, “ but enough food to last us a few weeks…and I’m not really looking to get into another fight with those people so soon after the last one.”

Many hands made light work as you began to quietly move kart after kart out of the store and over to the waiting vehicles. You had loaded the last of your stuff (including the bulk amount of soap) into the back tray of the truck when a series of pops cut though the air. Everyone paused what they were doing, looking over in the direction of the store. Another loud popping sound rang out.

Eight heartbeats later Blaine walked out of the store, limping and dragging something along behind him. As you all jogged over to him you quickly realised it was one of three men from earlier, a steady flow of blood oozing out of his leg. Blaine himself had a pretty nasty cut across his chest, presumably from the sword, but he carried the wound well.

“These pricks tried to jump me,” he grunted, letting the man go, “but they didn’t realise I was armed.”

The wounded man glared up at you all and spat blood at your feet. Blaine took offence to that and kicked him hard in the side.

“Who are you guys?” Spellman asked, cutting to the chase. “Have you been following us?”

“Why would we care about dead men?” The prisoner responded in his accented voice, scowling. “You are all going to die! All vestiges of the old world shall die!”

You recalled something the man from yesterday had said to you and leaned in, “Who are the ‘Order’?”

That seemed to catch him by surprise and he recoiled away from you. “The Order are the ones who will inherit this new world, dead man! When the planets align and the Chosen comes forth and claims his place as ruler it will be only the faithful who live in the New Eden!”

“It’s all psychotic bullshit,” Blaine muttered. “But maybe we can take him back with us to interrogate?”

You weren’t sure if you liked the idea of having a dangerous man in your home, near the women you loved. But perhaps something could be gleaned from more extensive interrogation.

“I think my mom might have some medical things that could him to talk…”

Spellman looked uncomfortable but nodded. “At the very least we need to know where these people are operating out of, if only to avoid them.”

A sharp gurgle snapped your attention back to the man and to your shock blood began to rush out of his mouth as he gagged and choked on something. Spellman rushed to check him over as the man writhed and groaned before growing still.

“Son of a bitch bit his own tongue off,” he winced in disgust. “Who the hell are these people? This is cult-like.”

A persistent breeze picked up and began to cut through you all in that moment. You looked around the empty parking lot, studied the black windows of the store again. Suddenly you felt very exposed and wanted to leave.

The drive home was quiet and you decided to get in the back and cuddle with Bonnie. But even as she clung to you with her sexy tits pressed close and intoxicating scent filling your nose, your mind was a million miles away. Who were these people and what did they want?

The truck pulled into your drive way and you slowly began to unpack the supplies mindlessly. You needed to a second opinion, someone to give you advice with all of this craziness…