Keep Busy

23.

"I got it. But it's not dead. It's wounded!" Jane shouted. "I think that's a good thing. Right? The blood is fresher maybe?"

Frank heard indistinct shuffling noises and a wet snap.

"Don't come over here," Jane added.

"We won't," Frank assured her. He turned to Emily. "Well, let's sort some of this stuff and get it out to the car." He lit up a cigarette as a preemptive measure in case the smell started to waft over the shelves.

"I'll go get some more perfume," Emily said.

"Right."

Frank tried not to hear but couldn't help it. Squishy sounds were coming from the direction Jane had gone.

She was definitely eating the skunk.

He wondered about the fur—was she peeling it first or just tearing in like some barbarian? He cringed at the thought and busied himself with the contents of the shopping carts.

The things he thought they needed were folded and laid flat in the cart. The bikinis and things went in a pile on the floor. High heels, bracelets and jewelry, lacy bras and oversized hats joined the pile, though for reasons he didn't want to admit to himself, he opted to keep the fishnet thigh highs.

Once he got two of the carts consolidated into one, he angled it toward the door, tossing his suitcase on top.

"Emily! Let's go," he called just as she rounded an aisle, her arms full of deodorants, car fresheners and perfume.

"Better safe," she said.

They headed for the door leaving Jane to her stink feast.

It took some doing, but Frank managed to clear a path through the mountain of shopping carts at the exit. It was just at the moment he was thinking how lucky it was that they hadn't run into any trouble when he heard the echoing report of a gunshot.

It was a different sound than before, inside the Target—not as concussive and big.

It was the sound of a gun being fired outside.

Then came a muffled shout.

"Rrrah rrrr rreeuhhnns!"

Frank and Emily abandoned their carts and ducked behind one of the few nearby cars for cover, carefully peeking out to scan the parking lot and surrounding woods. There was no movement, but it had sounded like the voice was fairly close.

The voice shouted again, "Rrrah rrr rreeuhhnns!"

Franked looked at Emily. She shrugged. Frank was trying to make sense of the muffled nonsense but came up short. "What's he saying?" he asked Emily.

"I don't know. Something about ribbons?" she whispered.

"What?" Frank shouted back.

"RRAAHH RRR RRREEEBBUHHNS!"

Frank shook his head. "Look. I can't understand you," he shouted back to the seemingly empty parking lot.

The demand came one more time with the same results.

Frank was getting irritated. "I really have no idea what you're saying right now either come closer or leave us alone."

Emily pulled a Glock 9 mm from the back of her waistband and snapped off the safety.

"Where'd you get that?" Frank whispered to her.