Monster - A. Lee Martinez [3]
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
They were halfway down the stationery aisle when a tremendous clatter and crash echoed through the store.
“Is there anyone else in the store?” he asked. “Just Dave.”
Something roared.
“Another one?” she asked.
He pulled a small square of paper from his pocket. It had a lot of those weird not-quite-letters written on it. The paper folded itself into an origami hummingbird.
“Chester, recon,” commanded the blue guy. “I’m on it,” said the bird, and it soared over the aisles on paper wings before quickly returning. “We’ve got a yeti in the canned goods aisle.”
The bang of a shelf of Chef Boyardee brand beef ravioli being tossed to the floor made Judy wince. It depressed her to realize that she’d been working at the Food Plus Mart long enough to identify the brand and product solely by the sound. Spaghetti-Os had a tinnier echo, and green beans were more muffled.
“Shit—I just stocked that aisle.”
The blue guy and Judy investigated canned goods. The yeti’s cheeks bulged as it stuffed pasta, cans and all, into its maw. It was a hell of a mess. This creature was bigger than the last.
“This shouldn’t be a problem,” said the guy. “I can handle this.”
Something growled behind them. Judy whirled and came face-to-face with yet another yeti. This one bared its teeth at her and snarled. Its bloodshot eyes bore into her, freezing her in place. It knocked her aside with a glancing blow and seized the blue guy. He struggled, but the yeti lifted him to its jaws and swallowed his head. The guy flailed and twitched as the creature ambled away, sucking on him like a lollipop.
She didn’t hear the man scream. Either he was dead already or his shrieks of pain were being muffled by a throat full of his own blood. The yeti stopped at the far end of the aisle and spit the man out. It hunched over him, growling and clawing. Scraps of cloth flew in the air, but the creature’s body blocked Judy’s view of the carnage.
“Oh, shit. Oh, shit.” Judy froze, repeating the chant over and over.
A curious grunt came from the canned goods aisle. The second yeti’s claws clicked on the tile as it drew closer. It snorted and sniffed.
She bolted for the front doors. They were only a dozen or so steps away, and the lumbering yetis didn’t seem very fast. A can of peas rolled underfoot, causing her to fall. She struck her head on the discarded baseball bat and it rolled noisily across the floor.
The second yeti roared as it advanced on her. “Oh, shit, oh, shit!”
She’d always known Food Plus Mart was a dead-end job. She just hadn’t expected to reach the end so soon.
The paper bird, now folded into a large vulture shape, fluttered in the creature’s face. “Run, miss! I can’t distract it for—”
The yeti grabbed the bird and threw it to the floor. The beast stomped on the paper several times.
Judy snatched up the baseball bat and clutched it in two tight fists. The Animal Control guy had used it to knock out the other yeti. She figured she’d only get one shot so she had to make it count.
The yeti pounced.
She brought the bat up hard and smashed it across the jaw. There was an explosion of force. The yeti was blown back down the aisle. It flew fifty feet, landing with a thud beside the third yeti, the one mauling the Animal Control agent. The struck yeti stayed down, but the last one turned away from its victim and howled.
The strange writing on the bat glowed brighter. The weapon quivered in her grip. It was only a bat and the yeti was a hulking brute, but she felt invincible with it.
“Come on,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “Nobody messes with my canned goods aisle, you son of a—”
The abominable snowman charged forward. Its feral roar dissolved her sense of power. Yelping, she pitched the bat at it. The weapon sailed through the air and struck the yeti right between the eyes.
The bat exploded in a crack of thunder. Splinters of wood flew like shrapnel, slicing her face and arms. A sizable chunk collided above her right eye, knocking