Short Story #1

                I smelled them before I saw it. The dank musty smell the homeless have about them. They pretended to be customers. But it was obvious from there clothing and smell, they had no money to spend. There was a well hidden girl with them. Underneath her hood peered out green eyes with auburn hair flowing in front of her left eye. She was atkasi. They must've helped her escape the prisons. As they walk about the store I noticed a tattoo on one mans arm. It was a sword wrapped in a twisting pen. The rebels tattoo. He should have never gotten that tattoo. Especially if he didn't have the sense to  cover it up. I slowly started to creep toward the door, subtly but with some haste. Whatever was about to happen, I wanted no part of.
                    And I almost made it. Six tiles. I was six tiles away from a oppressed safe life. But I didn't make it. Just as I was passing the last minute item racks the commercialist love, one of the homeless shouted something and began shooting. Instantly the small quicky mart was turned into a war zone. The ragged gang shot without hesitation spraying bullets in all directions. Bam. Down went a 7 year old running from the candy rack. Bam . There goes his mom and the old woman standing behind her. As I lunge over the ice cream cooler trying to escape the madness, out of the corner of my eye I see the clerk raise up from behind the counter.
              He was holding a pump action shot gun. He fired off one shot sending one ragged man two aisle back. The rest took cover as the cashier, with a deranged look in his eyes, jumped onto the counter and pumped round after round into the store only stopping to reload , which he did with impressive speed. Cursing the heavens the cashier jumps onto the counter unloading his gun. He took out another ragged man, leaving 7, before the rest started firing back. Boxes of cereal exploded from the cross fire, the snack aisle was reduced to crumbs. I saw one of the men sneak around and down
an aisle, trying to surprise the cashier. The girl sees me and, squatting in an aisle shot to hell, she slowly takes off her hood and meets my gaze. She brushes away her hair. A smile creeps upon her lips, to whom she puts her finger up telling me to keep quiet and for some reason I could not explain, I obeyed.
        Quietly the man crept up on the cashiers side. He had no chance. As he began to reload for a fourth time, the man unleashed a fury of bullets to which his comrades added too. The store settled into an eerie silence. The girl shouted commands to her men. What she said I couldn't tell you, ever since her silenced me I'd been utterly focused on her. It wasn't until they had taken three enormous sacks worth of groceries did they leave. As they walked out the front door, their wounded agonizing their way to death, the girl snapped and I began to scream as if it had been building up in me for years.