“Can I help you?” He asked. I noticed he was wearing a .45 on his hip. Prudent, I thought.
“I need to get some .30 carbine ammo,” I said.
“Right. You want it by the box, or case?” He asked, reaching behind him.
I was surprised. “You have cases?”
“Sure thing. Cheaper to buy a case than to sell it piecemeal, but we just got an order in yesterday, so if you want a whole case, I’ll sell it to you discounted. Bigger discount if you pay cash.”
“Deal,” I said, reaching for my checkbook. I kept emergency money there and something told me this was definitely an emergency.
“Let me go get it.” He walked off to a back room that had a large padlock on it. As the door opened, I could see stacks of varied ammo in a wide range of calibers. Bet a lot of people would like to see that room, I thought.
As I finally headed home, I thought about what I had seen and heard. I thought about what I had in the trunk and hoped to God that I was wrong. If I was, I was going to have a hell of a shooting day at the range, the next time I got out. If not, well, I did what I could to protect my family. I just wish I had a clue as to what I was protecting against. If the virus was airborne, I could do little. If it was spread by contact, that was something else.
A raindrop hit my windshield and I looked at the darkening sky. Storm. Great. Maybe I’ll get home before it hits. With any luck, it’ll all blow over.
White Flag Of The Dead is available from Amazon here.
The Zombie Theories (Book 3): Conversion Theory Page 33