State of Decay Stories - The Gun Store

The Gun Store
Marcus was as surprised as anyone else in the group when Ed actually volunteered to go back to the lake at Mt. Tanner. He was happy, though. Ed was a close friend of his, probably his last close friend in the world now. He didn’t like having to constantly defend Ed to the others, nor did he like having to be the one to talk him down after getting into arguments with the other survivors.

With Ed preparing for his trip in the main room of the church, Marcus strode wearily down the hall and into the crampt bunkhouse. What was originally the personal room of Pastor Williams had been turned into a makeshift sleeping area with second-hand mattresses and sleeping bags covering any empty floor space. It was morning, luckily, so Marcus didn’t need to settle for a spot on the floor. Most of the group was already awake and going about their daily chores. Almost no one in the group slept as well as they did before the end of the world, though none would admit to that.

Marcus unloaded his gear and slumped onto the bottom portion of a bunk bed with a heavy sigh. He shut his eyes but the sleep that usually came so easily to him was nowhere to be found. He knew why, though. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he nearly met his end the night before while scavenging the Spencer’s Mill gun shop, but that only partly explained why sleep would not find him. Marcus knew the others in the group looked up to him as a leader. He didn’t feel like one – he was just a desk clerk, how was he supposed to be a strong example for a group of terrified strangers?

Marcus fought those thoughts aside as he stared, wide awake, at the bunk above him. These people need a leader, he thought. They need someone to be strong when they aren’t. They need someone to look up to. But again, a small voice of doubt crept in as he fluffed his pillow and turned on his side. What if he never came back from the gun store? He felt lucky to be alive and thought it miraculous he was relatively unhurt after what happened. Marcus shut his eyes hoping to convince his mind that his body was ready for sleep, but all that came was a replay on repeat of the night before.

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As night fell, Marcus prepared for his trip to the Spencer’s Mill gun store. The number of available firearms in the group’s store was dwindling and their supply of ammunition was even lower. Marcus didn’t mind going into town at night either. Once outside the walls of the church grounds, he was able to use the darkness to his advantage – silently taking down nearby zombies and keeping low to the ground as he made his way to the gun store.

Inside the store, a handful of zombies lurked. Two were on the ground floor and three more upstairs. He nearly missed one upstairs, but bringing the heavy weight of his axe down on the zombie’s decaying skull made quick work of the ghoul. Being an athletic guy with a bigger frame, Marcus liked the feeling of strength he got from sending powerful swings that practically cut through any undead beast he ran across. The axe was unwieldy, for sure, but it hadn’t failed Marcus yet.

Marcus moved back down to the first floor and began his search. Other survivors had the same idea to check this location before him and there wasn’t much left for Marcus to find. Rifling through shelves and drawers, he was able to secure a pistol along with a small cache of bullets. Despite his findings, he was annoyed at himself for not checking out the store sooner, convinced there would have been more for he and his group to use.

Feeling more unsure about the trip, Marcus moved to the back office of the store. He figured anything of value was out front or in the storage areas upstairs, but there would be no harm in checking. Sure enough, the first drawer he pulled open revealed an M1911 .45 caliber handgun. At the sight of the large pistol, Marcus’ spirit was lifted. The desk revealed nothing else to him and he turned his attention to the nearby filing cabinet.  The first drawer offered nothing and Marcus’ renewed zeal for searching turned to ire. In the moment, his emotions got the best of him and the second drawer he pulled came loose from the cabinet and crashed to the ground with a loud clatter.

Marcus froze. The crash from his reckless search of the filing cabinet could not have gone unnoticed. He hurried to the window and sure enough, every zombie on the street seemed to be shambling his way or at least looking in his direction. Marcus steeled himself and readied his axe. He was ready for a fight but what he saw as he turned from the window made him pause and take a second look. Coming down the street, and moving quickly for the undead, was a large horde. They too had been drawn by the ruckus and were now quickly converging on the gun shop. The courage and confidence Marcus felt only moments before had begun to wane.

Luckily, the stairs to the second floor were in the back office where he now stood. The front door was left wide open – Marcus had forgotten to close it after dispatching the few lurkers inside the shop. As he turned to seek shelter upstairs, he quietly closed the back door in an effort to dissuade any zombies from discovering the staircase. Before he had even reached the landing, Marcus could hear the moans and shuffling feet of the undead horrors wading into the shop. The stench from such a tightly packed congregation of the beasts was unbelievable. Crouched and moving slowly upstairs, Marcus heard loud banging from the back door he had just closed. A sense of dread washed over him as he envisioned zombies making a bee-line up the stairs for him.

He inched closer to the stairs, hoping not to be seen in the darkness. The layout of the staircase gave him a small window of the ground floor, which was now being flooded with zombies from both entrances. He watched as they marched into the shop, vacant stares in every set of eyes as they searched for the source of the noise.

For the first time, since discovering the apocalypse had occurred at the lake, Marcus didn’t know what to do. Panic nagged at his senses and he struggled to keep control over his emotions. He knew if he didn’t act fast, he would soon be just another face in the sea of undead below. As more zombies trundled into the store below, he hefted his axe into his hands. When he realized that he was subconsciously preparing for war with the monsters below, Marcus took a few steps away from the staircase and thought hard on his next course of action.

Thinking on it, diving head-long into the mass of undead bodies below would be suicide. Even if he were lucky enough to split a few heads open with his first few swings, the rest would converge and he would be quickly overwhelmed. At that moment, he also realized that his large axe would hardly be the ideal weapon for such close quarters combat. He realized this was not a fight he could win.

At that thought, panic began to grip him once more. He was trapped on the second floor of the building and fighting through the multitude of zombies below was out of the question. Could he just wait until they left, he wondered? No, that left too many unknowns in the equation. What if he was discovered during the night? The rest would be on him almost immediately. What if they didn’t leave? Marcus was not delighted at the thought of starting a new life on the second floor of the gun store.

Just then, an idea flashed through his mind. The balcony. He noticed the second floor of the shop had a balcony when he approached earlier but hadn’t actually explored it yet. With any luck, there would be a ladder to the ground or a lower surface where he could transition to on his way to the ground. But out on the balcony, Marcus found nothing but a sheer drop to the ground.

His heart dropped. The zombies below didn’t notice him high above, but that didn’t change his circumstances. Just as Marcus was about to give up hope, he spied something just underneath the balcony railing. The hood of a pickup truck, parked alongside the store, glinted in the pale moonlight. The drop to the roof of the truck cab was substantial but Marcus figured it was his best option. His only option at this point.

Marcus readied his equipment and stowed his axe on his pack. Testing the railing, Marcus once then twice mimicked the motion of heaving himself over and onto the truck below. On the third try, he was over the railing and hurtling toward the truck below. With a thud he crashed onto the hood of the truck. He couldn’t believe his luck. As far as he could tell, besides a few bruises, he was no worse for the wear after leaping from the second floor. Shaking the mild daze from his head, Marcus quickly wrenched one of the doors open, climbed in and began heading for home.

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Whew, what a night for Marcus. What originally made me take note of this story stemmed from noticing that, in my game, Marcus never really seemed to get into trouble. Like, ever. Any challenge he came across, he utterly dominated. No zombie was a match for him. Hell, entire hordes of zombies fell to Marcus – in melee combat, no less. For practically any other character, I need a car (preferably the four-door pickup trucks) to mow down incoming zombie hordes. But Marcus? All Marcus needs is a heavy weapon (was the axe first then became the pipe threader), a few snacks, a fire bomb or two and a couple extra clips of ammo and he could take down an entire horde of zombies, single-handedly.

The night at the gun shop stood out to me because it was the first time Marcus ran across a problem he couldn’t smash his way through. If I had tried to fight my way out of the store, it’s possible I would’ve made it out alive, but I didn’t like my chances. Because just like the story says, I was in the back room of the store and tried to quick search something back there and it caused a huge ruckus and drew a bunch of zombies to the store. And not just random zombies, but also alerted a nearby horde. But – in typical Marcus fashion – I managed to escape that predicament not just completely unharmed but also with a new Colt 1911 pistol (that Marcus carried until I found an AK-47) and a rucksack full of ammo.

I wanted to also finish up the story of Ed at the lake but – in typical me fashion – I wrote way too damn long and didn’t have time. But never fear, we will finish up Ed’s trip to the lake next week, which will then bring us to one of the sadder events that happened in the time I was collecting data for these stories. That’s all for now, though. Be sure to check back next week for more State of Decay Stories!