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went, plus the stuff burned like crazy if it got in the eyes. He knew from experience. Anymore of those crazy freaks came at him and he would spray or stab them, depending on their proximity and his instincts.
         Leland checked through the aisles and in the back storage areas. The cooler and the spacious area where freeze drinks and soda supplies, extra bags, cleaning supplies, and overstock were stored were empty of human life, as well. The convenience store was completely empty.
         He returned to the door, moved the brick, and twisted the lock. He felt the most secure he had since he saw the two crazies on his aunt’s front lawn.
         Sitting behind the register with a bottle of cola and a bag of barbeque chips, Leland wished for his phone. He wanted to check online for news or call someone for help. There wasn’t a phone in the store that he could see. The owner probably had a cell and didn’t care to pay for a landline.
         Even without a way to reach the outside, Leland thought of the little store as the perfect place to lie low for a while. He needed to gather his thoughts and plan what he would do from that point on. What he didn’t want to was think about what had happened at his aunt’s house. What he had permitted to happen to his nephew when he ran away.
         The less he wanted to think about those things, the harder they pressed on him until he could think of nothing other than Drayton’s tiny cries. Even when he tried to tell himself he didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby, his guilty conscience insisted his excuses were all made to disguise his cowardice.
         Rubbing his hands briskly over his face, Leland considered the shelves of alcohol behind the register.
         His dad had let him try his beer a few times and his Uncle Tony had given him a shot of vodka and made him chase it with Sprite once. Leland stood and took down a small bottle of rum from the shelf. He’d heard his Uncle Tony say once or twice that he enjoyed rum and cola together. Because he already had the cola, he figured he might as well try to add the liquid that went well with it.
         Leland sat and twisted open the cap on the bottle of rum. He sniffed the amber liquid and found it wasn’t too abrasive in his nose. He tipped the bottle back against his lips and let the warm alcohol slide over his tongue. The trail of heat hit him like a shot of fire in the chest and he coughed in surprise. He chased the mouthful of rum with three drinks of the cola and let it sit.
         He didn’t become violently ill or suffer any other negative effects, so he took another drink. Chips forgotten, he alternately nursed the bottle of warm rum and his cool cola. The warmth migrated from his throat to his head and he found it easier to avoid thoughts of his nephew and the other family members he’d left behind in his fear.
         When Leland heard a noise near the door, he took the screwdriver in hand and held it up close to his head. His hand shook and his vision wavered. He’d been at the rum and cola for over thirty minutes. It hadn’t hit him in one solid rush but had rather crept up on him until he was drunk without knowing how he’d gotten there.
         If someone was trying to get in and wanted to hurt him, being drunk wasn’t how he wanted to be. Leland wrinkled his nose and his lips twisted into a frown. He shoved the small, half-empty bottle of rum away from him and stood.
         He couldn’t see anyone on the other side of the door. If there’d been a person trying to get inside, they’d already moved away. It was someone like him then, wasn’t it? Leland was almost certain; it had be.
         One of the crazy ones like the two who’d killed or hurt his family members would have just flung themselves through the door with no thoughts for injuries or broken glass. But whoever it was had tried the door, found it didn’t open, and moved away. That indicated