Bandit

The plastic bottle clacked against the floor letting out a hollow, echoing yell. The final drops of liquid splashed out onto the concrete floor of the empty and abandoned corner mart. Raul still had his full  canteen, so he wasn't worried about the lost container. He needed to save space for more important provisions.

Looking out the large, broken plate glass window, he could see the sun was beginning to set. He had only about an hour and a half of daylight left to search for more supplies. He had been running low on food more than anything and needed to restock badly. The store he had come across looked as though it had been picked clean a while ago. Trash and empty containers littered the floor along with dried, sticky silhouettes of past spills, dirt and a pile of refuse he decided not to get any closer to than he had to.

He hadn't seen anyone around for days and decided it wasn't a necessity to practice stealth. After imbibing another of the few remaining drink products in the store, he noisily began to work his way through the store aisles, looking for anything else that he might be able to stuff into his bag. A couple dirty chocolate bars, an old bag of corn chips and some spearmint chewing gum were all he could find. It wasn't much, but it was much better than nothing. The diffused rays of the sun moved through the broken hanging glass and further up the floor to the golden swathed walls of the back of the store. He estimated there may be another forty minutes of light left.

Raul took his time sifting through his possessions. He mentally cataloged the scrounged foodstuffs as well as his canteen of water, a small bottle of scotch, some rope, a knife and a revolver. There were only three bullets remaining in the revolver. He knew it would take some time before he could find more ammo, so he'd need to use his cunning more than ever.

As the last of the daylight began to drain away, Raul made one last sweep of the corner store. He found a package of bandages and painkillers under a rack and some jerky that had been tossed away and hidden under a pile of emptied boxes. His mouth salivated at the peppered strips of dried meat, but he knew with the sun going down, he needed to find a spot for the night. Even without much human contact, there were still dangers to deal with: wild animals, exposure, sharp rocks, etc. He rarely traveled at night unless it was necessary.

Raul figured he could hole up in the back of the store for the night since it had been so quiet recently. He pulled a few racks in front of the broken window just to provide a little extra security. You could never be too careful these days. The double doors were already locked and covered.

As the last of the sun's rays disappeared over the horizon, Raul made his way to the back of the store. The office was in shambles; more looters had picked it clean. No money, nothing useful. Just old dried out pens, faded receipts and a rolling chair, toppled over some time ago and coated with dust and dirt. As Raul was clearing himself a spot on the floor to lay down, he noticed another door just outside the office, hidden behind piles of boxes and racks.

Yeah, ain't nothing gettin' in here without me knowin' about it, he thought to himself. There were no windows in the back and the door to the office had been broken off its hinges a long time ago. Laying his travel sack on the floor, he sat beside it, back to the wall. His stomach rumbled painfully. He knew better than to gobble up the food he had available so he took out a lone piece of jerky, about the size of the palm of his hand. The cured meat tasted so delicious. More so than the stale water from his canteen, but he knew he needed to do what he had to to survive. Soon he lay his head down on the travel bag and covered himself with his duster for warmth. It was uncomfortable, but he still hoped to get a few hours of sleep before the morning came.

Within a few minutes, Raul had nodded off.

It was a few hours later that the he was awoken suddenly by the sound of a muffled shuffling. Though it was pitch black, he was still able to quietly reach into his pack and retrieve his gun. He knew the knife would probably be more adequate, given the lack of expendable ammo, but he wanted to be sure that whatever was in there wasn't moving when he was finished with it. He crept out of the pitch black office room, peering around the corner of the door, hoping that there was enough moonlight to see. There was barely enough to make out a lone silhouette rummaging through the scattered boxes and refuse he had been through just hours before. As he watched, he could make out minor details about the body looting the store: he moved with a limp, he was slow--he limped through a direct ray of moonlight--, and he was old. Easy picking.

Click. Raul cocked and raised the gun. "Don't move." He could still see enough to know he had the gun trained on the invader, center mass. There was no escape.

"Don't shoot! I'm just hungry. I'm looking for food for my wife and kids." The old man's voice was rough, but full of life.

"Why the hell'd you pick this place?" Raul inquired.

"Why'd you? Why'd anyone else? Look, can we get past the stupid questions and just part ways here?"

Raul was growing impatient, "What's your name, old man?"

"Loomis." His answer was short and to the point.

"Well, Loomis, today ain't exactly your lucky day. I want you to turn around slowly and face away from my voice." He did as commanded, but with a heavy sigh. "Good dog. Now put your hands on your head and interlace your fingers." Raul was invoking a police program he had caught while looting another store a year or so ago. He had never had a chance to use it as most interactions involved either himself or the other parting running for their lives early on. Loomis complied with Raul's command slowly, but without hesitation. "Good, now start backing up this way. No funny business." Just as Raul spoke, Loomis broke into a slightly hobbled run toward the far end of the store lobby. The remaining standing racks blocked Raul's aim. Raul chased after the looter through the darkness, able and willing to kill if needed. He caught up to Loomis quickly before he was able to tear down any of the racks covering the windows.

Grabbing Loomis by the shoulder, Raul spun him around and clocked him in the jaw with the butt of his gun. The old man spilled to the ground, blood and spittle landed in a small patch of moonlight, a tooth clattered on the floor. "Unf!" was all Loomis could make out before his world became completely black.

When he came to, the sun was already shining through the stacked racks in the window. Loomis opened his eyes to see Raul kneeling over him, nibbling a piece of jerky. "How'd you get in here, anyway? The doors were blocked and the only windows are still covered." Raul stared at the old man. His face was just as rough as his voice; dirty with a stubbly, graying 5 o' clock shadow.

"You forgot the bathrooms," Loomis replied. "There's a busted window in the men's."

Raul could kick himself. He'd forgot to check the bathrooms in his haste to find sustenance. "Shit. But anyway, why're you here? This place is taken."

"You think I would've come in if I knew I was gonna get pistol whipped by some smelly bandit? I told you before, I'm just looking for food for my family back at the Hole." He tried to get up, then realizing his hands were tied up behind his back. The swelling in his face began to throb as he spoke, "Now, if you'd untie me, I'll be on my way. Already got a damn bum knee."

"What's 'the Hole'"

"My home. Why do you care? Gonna rob it? Nothin' there you'd want." Loomis spat.

"We'll see. Get up." Raul hooked an arm under Loomis's and pulled him up by his shoulder.

Raul drug the racks from the broken plate glass window and with an air of mockery gestured "after you" to Loomis. The old man complied and snaked his way through a clean spot on the window frame, falling out the other side and landing on his shoulder. Raul quickly followed.

"Which way, old man?" Loomis at first refused to comply. The pistol was quickly drawn and placed to his head. "This way," he reluctantly informed. "Just don't shoot. I just wanna see my family again, 'kay?"

"Fair enough. Do as I say and you'll be fine and they won't starve."

"Certainly." Raul couldn't tell if the old scavenger was being facetious or genuine. He didn't really care, though. All that mattered was finding a guaranteed shelter and making it his own.

They spent half a day traveling due east. Over hills and through some woods. The entire time, Loomis's hands were bound behind his back. The entire time, Raul's gun was trained on the old man. The entire time, they were both starving. Raul's stomach rumbled. "Look, we're getting closer to the Hole, but we need to stop and eat first or we won't make it."

Raul by this point was irritable and short with Loomis, "If you need food so bad, why the fuck'd you come all this way out from your home and family?? You think I wanna share what little I have with the likes of you?" He pressed the gun deep into his back, letting him know he meant business.

Loomis jumped forward a little, "Look, you share with me and I'll share with you, Hoss. Just slow down with that gun play there, 'kay?"

"Share what?" Raul was intrigued by the old man's statement.

"I haven't been completely forthright. I'm sure you understand, right? Anyway, I wouldn't have gone so far if we were completely out of everything. There's still some food and supplies back home. I'd be willing to share whatever you need if you just let up on the hostage action. You get more flies with honey than vinegar, right?"

His words caught Raul off guard. You get more flies with honey than vinegar, right? He hadn't even thought of that. In all his time running and gunning, it had never occurred to him to try to work with someone else to make things easier. Perhaps the old man had something going. But then again, when your main goal is survival, the only thing that matters is saving your own ass.

Raul pulled the gun back some, "Fine. We'll see what you've got then go from there," He reached into his pack and pulled out the pack of jerky then tossed it on the ground in front of Loomis, "There. Have a piece or two. Whatever gets you movin' again." Loomis stood there for a moment then cleared  his throat. "Oh yeah..." Raul undid the rope binding Loomis's hands.

The old man dove down to the ground almost immediately and greedily tore into the bag. He was obviously starving. Raul began to feel a little bit bad for the guy. After a few pieces, Raul took the bag back. There wasn't much jerky left. He handed Loomis the canteen of water after taking a sip himself. The hungry scavenger guzzled much of the water almost as fast as he'd eaten the meat.

"Alright! That's enough!" Raul became worried about the provisions they had left.

"Sorry, it's been a few days you see," Loomis handed back the jerky and canteen. "If you're ready, though, we can get a move on. We'll be there soon." He stood up from the dirty ground.

"Soon, huh? Fine, I'll wait to eat. Let's just keep moving." Raul's stomach growled again. He wondered if that was a good idea, but the thought of more food and shelter gave him the strength to keep moving.

It wasn't too long before they came to a bluff overlooking a valley with a wooded area covering the base of a mountain. Overhead dark clouds began forming.

"There's a storm coming. I can feel it in my bones," Loomis began rubbing his hands. "That area down there is where my home is. We don't have a lot of time to make it, but we should be able to within the next few hours or so." Raul could smell the earth in the air. Loomis was definitely correct about the storm.

Raul was amazed at how little the old scavenger needed to stop and rest, but then again, he was the only one who had eaten recently. "We'll make our way down in just a minute, I need some water."

"Better make it quick. I'm sure this'll be a bad one. It's a good thing I came across ya or I'd be stuck back at that shop for a while, away from my family."

"Yeah..." Raul took a swig from the canteen."

They followed the bluff downward toward its base for about an hour. They weren't able to climb directly down for fear of falling.

Soon towards the end of the steep hill, they were able to begin climbing down the dirt and rocks without worry of slipping and falling to their deaths. It wasn't the easiest to navigate, but hopefully, it would shave some time off their trip. As they approached the bottom, they were greeted with the sound of gunfire. They had been followed!

The two ducked behind a pile of rocks. Raul peeked over the top to see a lone gunman descending the same rocky path they had. He carried a rifle, still trained on their location. "GIVE ME YOUR PROVISIONS AND I'LL LET YOU LIVE!!" The bandit shouted at them. Raul cocked his gun and in one motion, took quick aim and squeezed off a shot at the raider. "Aaagghh!!" He screamed as the bullet pierced his shoulder and blew through to the other side. The man went down.

Raul handed Loomis his knife, "I only have a couple more shots. If he gets close, use this." Loomis gripped the knife expertly. Raul snuck around the rock pile in an attempt to flank the shooter. He was already getting back on his feet and about to start aiming again. Raul fired another shot, this time missing. He looked back toward Loomis, but the old man had disappeared. That old bastard musta ran on me, he thought. Suddenly the sensation of hot fire exploded through his leg as the loud crack of a rifle shot pierced the air. He had been hit! In severe pain, he went down. His head was already swimming from the rapid blood loss, but he could still hear the crunch of the marauder's boots on the dirt and gravel as he himself lurched toward Raul. Fuck, I'm not gonna die here! was all Raul could think to himself at this point. He only had one shot left and he was gonna make it count. In his dizziness, he tried to sit up and train the gun on the bandit's location. It was hard to see. He was bleeding badly.

As the stranger closed in, he spoke to Raul, "I don' know where your friend went, but you gonna die, boy! I told you to drop your shit and I woulda let you live." His voice sounded underwater. Raul could now see his face closer through the blur that was the world around him. He could make out a scraggly beard with a stare that pierced through the haze. His gun still pointed at the stranger. The stranger took aim with his rifle as he closed in, "Yeah, that pea shooter ain't gonna help you." His shoulder still poured with blood, soaking his shirt down to the chest. His grip tightened around the stock of the gun, his eye right down the center of the sight. The stranger took aim right between Raul's eyes. Raul's hand shook and swayed under the weight of his gun, but he still squeezed one last shot. He missed again.

Just as the stranger began to squeeze the trigger, old Loomis suddenly appeared behind him, grabbing his forehead and pulling hard. The razor sharp knife slid across his throat like the first fresh cut into a rare steak. The stranger gagged and coughed on his own blood. The rifle let out another loud crack, this time missing Raul by just an inch or two. The stranger dropped the rifle and clutched his neck in a futile effort to hold in that precious life fluid. Just before blacking out, Raul could have sworn in the background Loomis was licking the blade clean.



Raul woke with a startle. From the blackness, he sprang forward, still in the mindset that he was fighting for his life. Just then, he remembered the stranger had gone down in a spray of blood. His head was still swimming, but the throbbing in his leg was bringing him back to earth. He looked down to see he had been bandaged and cleaned up. Loomis was sitting nearby as if on watch. He was holding the stranger's rifle. Raul began searching his person for his gun.

"Don't worry, it's in your sack. That was some decent shooting back there; hitting him like that. I wouldn't have been able to sneak up on him proper if you hadn't." Raul shook his head trying to clear out the rest of the cobwebs. "Here, take a sip of this. You've been out about an hour and we gotta get going. Won't make it before the storm, but we can at least beat the worst of it," the old man handed him the scotch that had been in the bag, "I hope you don't mind I took a few swigs, myself."

Raul grabbed the decanter and took a huge gulp. Almost immediately, he could feel the pain from the wound lessen.

"Luckily, he missed anything truly vital. The bleeding was bad, but you should be able to walk just fine, just with some pain." Loomis stood as if he was about to leave Raul behind. The sun was beginning to go down again. Raul decided to try to stand. It wasn't nearly as tough as he'd expected. Loomis shouldered the rifle and gave Raul a hand. "Here, take this," He handed Raul an energy bar he'd taken off the stranger, "You're gonna need it." Raul opened the snack food and took it down in under a minute. He was still starving, but he would at least get a little energy from it.

"Where is he?" Raul asked. He wanted to see the body.

"He fell down the rest of the bluff. All I could get offa the body was that bar and the gun he dropped. Wasn't much ammo, but it should be enough if anything else comes around. Decent firearm it is." The old man replied. "Everything else was just a bloody mess."

"My knife?"

"In your pack, too. I cleaned it off in the grass over there before I put it back for you," he pointed just past where Raul was laying and sure enough there were swathes of blood in the grass as if a knife had been rubbed clean on it.

"Fair enough." He didn't bring up the knife licking. He figured he was just seeing things since he'd lost so much blood at once. "Ready to go?"

"Been ready." Loomis began walking the rest of the way down the hill. Raul stuffed the bottle back into the bag and forced himself up from the ground.

The walk through the valley was essentially uneventful. Aside from some minor wildlife, nothing else living stirred in the area. Each step Raul took shot a certain amount of sharp pain up his leg, so he made sure to favor that appendage as they moved. It wasn't too long before they reached the wooded area they had seen from atop the bluff. At this point, the sky resembled a giant tuft of dirty cotton; dark grey and and soaked with old muddy water. In the short distance, they could hear the thunder getting closer. It wasn't long until a deluge of rain came pouring through the treetops.

"It's just up here." Loomis informed Raul. In the small distance, he could see what looked like a cave in the mountainside. As they got closer, he could see a tarp had been stretched over the opening to help keep water and wildlife out. "There's a couple of openings, but this is the main one we use. The rest are...let's just say you don't want to take any chances."

When they arrived, Loomis pulled the tarp aside so Raul could enter. The cave stunk of sweat and rotted meat, but underlying was a hint of something...cooking? Loomis pulled the tarp back into position, effectively darkening the entrance back the way it was. Luckily, it wasn't too dark. A torch burned in the distance, but just close enough to keep the entire area partially visible. "HONEY, I'M HOME!!" Loomis screamed down into the cave. His voice boomed and echoed off walls and crags. The two made their way into the cave, Raul followed Loomis so as not to get lost or left behind.Within a few minutes, they came across what had been outfitted into a room filled with burning candles. A woman, two teenage boys and two small girls sat around a large table. On it was a couple handmade bowls filled with fruits from the trees and berries from the bushes. "Loomy? What took you so long?" His wife, a gorgeous, slim blonde wearing a gown that showed a little too much cleavage, was up and almost running at him. Her breasts bounced with each step.

"Sorry, baby. I, uh, got a little held up. Kids, go wash up. It smells like dinner's about to be finished, right, honey?" She nodded, smiled, then kissed Loomis on the cheek. Raul felt a bit sickened. Or perhaps jealous. He wondered how such an old man could have gotten himself such a woman. The thought quickly left his mind as fast as it had entered when he realized he didn't exactly know where it was that they were. There were so many twists and turns in the cave on the way to Loomis's family that he had lost track of the way.

When Loomis's wife left the room Raul noticed that all of the children were staring at him. A deep soul-wrenching, almost murderous stare. None smiled. They just stared. Raul shivered a little. "Okay, so about those supplies, eh?" He decided to break the silence, albeit shakily. At that moment, the children began to march to the door, almost in unison, all the while still staring.

"Yeah, they're just around the corner. But let's talk first", Loomis made himself comfortable at the large table. He then pulled out a chair for Raul. "Dinner will be done shortly, you should stay." Raul was becoming frustrated.

"That's not the deal we made, old man. You'd be dead right now if I didn't give you my word. Now you need to keep your end of the bargain, don't you think?"

Loomis let out a long sigh, "It's been a long trip. Rest a bit then we'll talk shop," his eyes glistened in the light of the candles, his dirty, stubbly face seemed more ghoulish within the confines of the room wrapped in dancing shadows. Raul did feel exhausted and he knew he didn't have a good chance to find his way out of there without a guide. He felt like Hansel when he and his sister were left in the woods and their bread crumb trail had been eaten up by the birds and wildlife.

"Fine." He pulled the chair out that Loomis had readied for him and sat backwards in it. He crossed his arms over the top and rested his head sweaty head on them. His pack lay on the floor right behind the chair. "What's there to talk about, hmm?"

"How're you feeling, first of all?" Raul looked confused. Loomis motioned to the bandage, "Your leg. How is it?"

"It's fine."

"Good. Good. Just wanted to make sure I bandaged you up good. Didn't want you catching gangrene or anything," he let out a slight chuckle that seemed just a bit too sincere. "We gotta change those bandages, too, before dinner. Don't want you bleeding anymore than you need to, right?" Raul didn't quite understand what he meant, but he shrugged his shoulders nonetheless.

"Let me ask you something, 'Loomy'," there was a hint of mockery in Raul's voice, "Why here? Of all the places out there just ripe for the picking, why some dirty, dank cave?"

Loomis put his left elbow on his knee and leaned toward Raul, grinning, "Sometimes the best places are hidden in plain sight. We rarely get visitors, but when we do, it's always a treat." A faint cold draft writhed its way through the room making the candles flicker. Some went out. Even with the tarp covering the entrance, this place was not immune to air circulation. With the draft came the scent of food cooking. Raul's stomach growled. "Dinner'll be done soon. You'll stay, right?" Loomis's grin grew a bit wider.

Raul lifted his head from his arms and sat back a little in the chair. "I never said I'd stay. As a matter of fact, I never even said I wanted to talk in the first place. So how's about we just get this business over with that we got going and I can be on my way. Storms be damned, I can't stay another minute in the hell hole. How do you stand that smell, anyway?"

"What, potatoes?" Loomis leaned back in the chair. His elbow now rested over the back. "I thought everybody loved potatoes. They make a stew hardy" He balled up his right hand into a fist and beat his chest once. "Make a man of ya."

"You callin' me something else??" Raul stood from the chair, ready to pounce on the elder gentleman. He'd had enough of his tomfoolery and was more than ready to leave.

"Don't get your undies in a bunch there, stranger. I'm just sayin' a good stew makes for a stronger body. You sure you don't want to join us?"

"Alright, I'm done here. I shoulda killed you when I had the--" Raul began to dig into his bag, but found only his empty revolver remained. His knife was missing, along with the scotch. "The hell?! Where's my gear, old man!?"

"Don't worry, you won't need it anymore." The tone in Loomis's voice had taken a dark turn. Suddenly, Raul didn't feel quite so safe in that cave anymore. A sharp, burning pain in his non-bandaged leg drew his attention.

"AAaaggghh!!" His own knife stuck out from the calf muscle of his leg. Blood streamed down in a crimson tide. One of Loomis's younger children had snuck back into the room while the two spoke and hid under the large table. She had almost finished pilfering all of Raul's belongings from the bag before the bandit had lost his temper.

Raul dropped to the dirty floor, flopping like a fish out of water until he was able to pull the knife free. The slick coating of blood lubricated the handle too much for him to keep a good grip and the weapon flew from his hand, landing with a loud tink-tink! No longer worried about his belongings, he scrambled to his feet and hobbled from the room as Loomis guffawed from his comfortable chair. "Don't go too far, boy! We're still waiting for dinner to be ready, ya know! HAHAHAHA!!!"

Loomis's voice boomed and echoed through the walls of the cavern as Raul hobbled his way from the room into the darkness, from torch to torch, hoping to find the right way out. Within the twisting caverns, he had no idea which way to go. He had been more worried about getting supplies from Loomis than which way was up and out. He turned a corner to find Loomis's youngest daughter, the one from the room, holding his knife. Licking and slurping the blood from the blade and her fingers. Staring. Staring straight into Raul's eyes. Grinning, just as her father was before. The sound sickened Raul something fierce. He stared in total disgust and horror, realizing all the while they had planned to HAVE him for dinner. He wouldn't have let that old shit live a second longer if he'd known this was their plan all along. You get more flies with honey than vinegar, right? The words meant something completely different to him now. He turned and ran from the child. He was afraid of a goddamned child, a little monster who was lapping up his life's blood like it was honey. He didn't want to take his chances with any of these people, these monsters!

Turning the corner, he ran for what felt like eons because of his legs. The rich, dank odor of the cave seemed to become more aromatic as he went. Soon he was in another room, with a large boiling pot. A kitchen, it seemed. What he noticed next stopped him in his tracks. Near the boiling pot, Loomis's wife was cutting into a large chunk of meat with a large kitchen knife. Her hands smeared with blood and sinew. As she looked up, he saw more blood smeared across her forehead, as if she'd wiped sweat from her brow in the midst of preparing their "dinner". Various bits of skin and bone lay about the room in a macabre medley of filth. He immediately began to backtrack through the cavern he'd just been through in hopes of distancing himself from the gruesome display. Before he could get far, the children, Loomis's youngest offspring were now both brandishing weapons: Raul's knife and another, larger knife. Just behind them, the teenagers had shown up with machetes, ready for the kill. He felt trapped. On one end, there was that horrid, horrible room, on the other, murderous children ready to kill at a moment's notice. He was stuck in the middle, not knowing what to do. That is, until he noticed a faint gleam of light off to the side.

A small alcove to the side led to another tunnel with an opening at the end. He'd found an escape route! With renewed vigor, he pulled himself together and hurled his bloodied body into the small room and subsequently into the tunnel. He could still hear the roar of the storm outside. He was closer than he'd ever thought he'd be. He was going to make it to freedom. Ignoring the pain of the stab wound, the aching of the gunshot wound, he pumped his legs harder and harder. Nothing was going to stop him from freeing himself of this nightmare! Every few seconds, he could see the flash of the lightning, hear the boom of the thunder. Every few seconds, he was that much closer to freedom.

Raul never felt the ground disappear from underneath him. He was still running when the dirty tarp covering the hole filled with makeshift spears and blades gave way under his weight and dropped him in. He barely had a moment to let out an almost immediately stifled scream when the spears and blades pierced his flesh. His own momentum worked against him, pushing him further down until he was completely impaled, face-down, staring at the blood-soaked dirt floor below him. He never saw the family of cannibals surrounding the hole. He never saw them hugging each other and rooting for their next month of meals. All that went through his head was "You get more flies with honey than vinegar, right?". And then everything went black.