Edgar sucked on his lower lip. “I could’ve guessed. I was just hoping, that’s all. The people I’ve seen have been less than friendly so far. That’s why I welcomed you the way I did.” He gazed at the floor and then brought his eyes back to meet Quinn’s. “Where you going?”
Quinn hesitated. “Iowa. An army base in Fort Dodge. It’s supposed to be the last stand for the military, or so we’ve heard.”
“Iowa? I suppose it’s the center of the nation, makes sense I guess. I’d ask to accompany you but my place is here. Can’t leave them…” His voice trailed off, and he gazed at the darkened wall, bringing his eyes back to Quinn as if he’d forgotten he was there. “Here, let me help you load up. You can take my box; it’s already full of food. I’m sure you’ll want some water too?”
“That would be great, but I don’t want to take your supplies from you.”
Edgar nodded. “Good thing about old man Rogers who used to own this place, before he turned into a pile of goo, that is, he always kept lots of stores downstairs. There’s plenty for me, don’t worry about it.”
They moved to the rear of the building, and Quinn carried the box of food while Edgar hauled a pack of water with one arm, the opposite hand gripping his shotgun. When he strode out of the store into the sunlight, Alice’s eyes widened at the sight of the man behind him, but he gave her a reassuring nod. It’s okay, don’t worry. She adjusted herself in the seat to watch their progress as they loaded the supplies into the rear of the Tahoe.
“You’re fairly well set there,” Edgar said, stepping back on the curb. “Got most of the essentials anyways.”
“Yeah, we got lucky, I’ll say that.”
“Well, I hope your luck continues,” Edgar said, holding out a thick hand for him to shake again. Quinn grasped it and was about to say he needed to grab a few more things since they would be taking another vehicle, when the side of Edgar’s face collapsed.
A warm spray coated Quinn’s skin, and he blinked through a sudden red haze, tasting the other man’s blood.
Edgar’s head had fallen in, and several shards of yellow teeth hung in a congealed mass below one shredded eye. The opposite side of his face was only a gaping hole from which a torrent of blood ran. The sheriff’s hand squeezed hard, crushing his fingers in a death grip. Then the man’s short legs buckled, and he went down, splashing what was left of his brain matter against the sandy sidewalk.
A howling whine came from a step away, and a chunk of concrete exploded from the curb. The air beside Quinn’s face was hot, and his skin vibrated with the passage of the bullet.
“Get down!” Alice screamed, and he didn’t know if she was yelling at him or Ty. Probably both. Edgar twitched on the ground once and was still as all the strength went out of Quinn’s legs and he slumped against the side of the Tahoe. There was another buzzing sound as a third round clipped the top of the vehicle to his left. The air was stifling, burning in his lungs as he slunk around the side of the SUV and pawed at the driver’s door. The rear hatch was still open. He ran to it, whipping it down before ducking back to the open driver’s door. Alice was firing from her window at the top of the water tower where the dark outline of a man rested against one of the railings.
“Gogogogo!” she yelled, and squeezed off another two shots as he slammed his door shut.