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Carl ran up to it and tried all the doors.  They were all locked.  “Shit!”
    “Whoever left it here parked it awful close to the back door.  Can’t be more than two feet between the door and the front bumper.”
    “Maybe they were in a hurry.  Definitely belongs to a chick.  No dude would have a stuffed penguin hanging from the rearview mirror.”
    “Not in enough of a hurry to forget to lock their car doors,” Taylor said, and tried the handle of the back door to Dave’s Hardware.
    It was unlocked.
    “I’ll be damned,” Carl said.  “What are the chances?  Would have been a good day to buy a lottery ticket.”
    Taylor entered the building first, hand instinctively touching his pocket to feel the comforting form of the box cutter. 
    The room was dark and smelled of oil and sawdust.  They had grown up with the same odor frequently wafting out of their father’s workshop.  Taylor had never cared for it; as a kid, it had played hell with his allergies.
    “I can’t see shit,” Carl said.
    “I know.  So be careful.  Just stay behind me.”
    Taylor inched his way to the left, arms extended in front of him, slowly shuffling forward until the tips of his fingers brushed up against the wall.  He pressed both of his hands, palms forward, against the wall and followed it until he reached the wall in front of them.  He followed this until the texture beneath his hands changed from rough drywall to the smoothness of varnished wood.  He allowed his right hand to explore until he felt the seam between the door and wall.  Finding the doorknob was easy after that.
    Carl’s hand was on the back of his shoulder. 
    Taylor said, “I found the door.”
    He opened it and a moment later they could see again.  Light from the streetlamps outside shone through the front windows, providing enough illumination to navigate through the store.  Long rows of shelves lined one side of the store to the other.  Shadowed things lined the walls, appearing somewhat ominous in the faint light. 
    “Looks a lot bigger on the inside,” Carl said.  He had regained some of his former confidence.  After they had crossed the street and found their way into the hardware store without incident, he was beginning to think that maybe things would be all right; that maybe the crazies had found something else to chase.
    They wandered down the aisles.  The streetlamps provided ample light to see if you were at the front of the store near the checkout area, but it became more difficult browsing the darkened aisles.  Taylor searched for flashlights.  He assigned his brother the task of locating batteries and grabbing a variety of them. 
    It took him five minutes to find the aisle where the flashlights were kept.  He plucked several different ones from their pegs and used the box cutter to strip away the tough plastic packaging.  He tucked them under his arm and carried them to the front of the store, aligning them along the floor where the ambient light was good. 
    Carl returned carrying several packages of batteries in each hand.  Taylor sorted through them.  He handed one of the packages to Carl and said, “Use these.  They go with that one.”  He worked on one of the other flashlights, screwing the end back on and sliding the switch to the ON position.  The flashlight shot a beam of light down one of the aisles.  Carl had his working a moment later.
    “Okay.  Now that that’s done, find anything useful.  But make sure it’s something we can carry without too much trouble.  Keep your eyes peeled for a set of car keys.  Unless the owner of that Ford out back ran out of here with the keys still in their pocket, they’re bound to be here somewhere.  I’ll check by the register.  If you want, check the backroom.  It was dark as hell back there when we came in.  There might be an office back there or something.  Worst case, we try to hotwire the damn thing.”
    “And when did you learn how to do that?”
    “I