Nuclear Survival: Western Strength (Book 2): Shelter In Place

by Tate, Harley

  They stopped in front of coiled racks of tubing and Jerry picked a clear plastic hose about half an inch in diameter. He uncoiled a ten-foot section and used the tool attached to the bay to cut it off. “Now we need a pipe or two.”

  Lainey cocked her head. “What on earth for?”

  Jerry picked up a solid metal plumbing pipe about two feet long and swung it like it was a baseball bat. “Defense. Until we get to my place, we’ve only got the one gun.” He found a circular fitting and screwed it on the end before giving it another swing. It looked deadly in the right hands.

  “Do you want one?”

  Lainey shook her head. “I’d never be able to swing it hard enough.”

  Jerry shrugged. “Might be surprised.”

  “No thanks. I can carry the flashlight.” She waggled the phone in front of her and the beam of light bounced around the aisle.

  “Then let’s find you a real one.”

  They took off back toward the front of the store and the end caps of everything from lights to magazines, to packs of Slim Jims. Jerry pilfered a handful of bags from a cash register and flicked one open before loading up with sports drinks and high-protein snacks.

  “Do you really think we should be taking all this?”

  “Look for flashlights, will you? Something rugged with a good beam.”

  Lainey frowned. She didn’t like how Jerry avoided her question. “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me. Why take all this stuff?”

  Jerry paused with a fistful of beef jerky hovering above the bag. “Because there isn’t any more of it. Whatever we find by way of food and water, that’s all there is. Manufacturing won’t restart. America won’t rebuild. This is it.”

  “What about all the farms north of here? There have to be millions of acres. It won’t just disappear.”

  “No, it’ll dry up. Those farms take millions of gallons of irrigation. The Central Valley would be a desert if it weren’t for piped-in water. You said that yourself.” He dropped the jerky into the bag. “Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining when we came back to Keith’s with armfuls of groceries.”

  Lainey focused on the phone in her hand. When they had come back, she’d naively assumed they paid for the food with cash or at least left a note. This felt different. She picked up a bottle of soda and turned it in her hand. “Is this really what it’ll be like from now on? Looters and moochers, all of us?”

  Jerry stilled. “If I don’t take this food, someone else will.”

  “Does that make it right?”

  “No. It doesn’t. But sooner rather than later, you’re going to have to make a choice.”

  Lainey set the bottle back on the shelf. “About what?”

  “Whether you want to survive.”

  Was Jerry right? Would she have to make a choice? Would she have to place her own survival above her morality? She thought about how far she was willing to go to chase a story. Breaking into a foreign government’s building, unauthorized use of a competitor’s broadcast studio, roping Keith into helping her.

  She turned away from Jerry so he wouldn’t catch the hitch in her breath. Maybe he was right. Maybe she’d already crossed the line. Lainey cleared her throat. “I’ll find the flashlights.”

  A standalone cardboard display a few feet away sported headlamps and keychain lights and a few mini flashlights. Lainey grabbed four, shoving down the guilt as she clicked one on.

  “Is there anything else?” Lainey held a flashlight out to Jerry and he took it with a nod.

  “Not for now. We can regroup at my place. Make a list.”

  Lainey turned toward the exit when a stranger’s voice cut across the dark.

  “Get out of my store!”

  Jerry stuck out a protective arm. “Stay behind me.” He clicked off his flashlight and Lainey did the same.

  The store plunged into darkness.

  “I said get out!”

  The voice came from the left, and from what Lainey could tell, belonged to an older man, mid-fifties, maybe. American. No accent. Lainey edged closer to Jerry and together they eased toward the back of the store and the loading dock where Keith and Owen should be waiting.

  The dark closed in around Lainey and she reached for Jerry’s arm. Her fingers scraped his shirt and he covered her hand with his own. He whispered, “Can you see enough without the light?”

  “I think so.” If Lainey concentrated, she could discern the difference between the open aisles and the crowded shelves based on the depth of the dark. It wasn’t easy and she stumbled into a cardboard display more than once, but they made it down an entire aisle and into the next.

  As they neared the rear of the store, the same voice rang out. “I told you to leave!”

  Light flooded the space behind them, casting exaggerated shadows of their bodies across the floor. Lainey bit her cheek to keep from screaming as she spun around.

  A shape hovered at the end of the aisle, but the high-powered flashlight beam obliterated any detail. “This is my store! Not yours!”

  “Come on.” Jerry tugged on Lainey’s arm. “This way.” He pulled her down the aisle. “We’ve got to get away from the light.”

  They ducked around the end of the aisle and the light bobbled behind them, not fast, not slow. Jerry pointed toward the exit. “Head straight to the loading dock. I’ll meet you there.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Cause a diversion.”

  Lainey didn’t like leaving Jerry to fight off whoever was screaming at them. She grabbed the bags from his hands. “Be careful.”

  He pushed her on and Lainey reluctantly took off, racing past the aisles to the dock. The light beam clicked off behind her and she stumbled in the absence of light. The shopping bags crinkled as she staggered into what felt like a pallet of tile. Pain bloomed across her thigh.

  “There you are.” The voice came from her left and Lainey screamed as she spun away, pushing against the tile to launch herself in the opposite direction.

  Fingers clawed across her bare arm. Lainey batted at them with the shopping bag. A man laughed. This can’t be happening. Lainey dug into one of the bags, searching for the flashlights she’d dumped inside. Her fingers wrapped around one of the slim shafts and she yanked it free from the plastic before clicking it on.

  The beam of light fell across a man’s face streaked with dirt. His hair stuck up in greasy clumps and dirt and grime stained his clothes. Was he one of the people living in the tents outside?

  Lainey staggered back into the nearest aisle, keeping the light trained on his face.

  He opened his mouth and half his teeth were missing. “Why are you backing up? That’s not the way out.”

  Lainey swallowed a thick glob of spit as she retreated even further. The man stood between her and the exit. Jerry was nowhere to be seen.

  “Leave me alone!” She spit out the words as she clutched her bags tight to her body with one hand. Her other hand shook as she held the flashlight in front of her, still trained on the man’s face.

  The man shook his head once in near slow-motion. Lainey twitched. He wasn’t going to leave her alone. She wasn’t even sure if he was sane.

  She scanned the aisle. Somehow she’d ended up in the garden section, surrounded by bags of fertilizer and cans of insect repellant. Photos of wasps and hornets covered the nearest can and Lainey reached for it on instinct.

  As she held it out in front of her, the man stepped forward. He held a giant flashlight up in his hand and clicked it on. The light blinded Lainey again, so much brighter than the tiny flashlight she held.

  Lainey aimed the spray. “Leave me alone!” As she pressed down on the spray button, the high beam wobbled and crashed to the floor. It skittered across the concrete, banged into the shelving and spun, finally coming to rest facing the aisle. The man who accosted her lay splayed out on the floor, blood welling from a gash across his forehead.

  Jerry stood on the edge of the light beam, holding the plumbin
g pipe in both hands.

  Chapter Fifteen

  KEITH

  The Home Depot

  Los Angeles, CA

  Wednesday, 1:00 p.m. PST

  Lainey flew through the open door and almost collided with Bear as he paced the concrete dock.

  “Whoa. Are you all right?”

  “No!” Lainey smacked her lips as she shook her head back and forth. “There’s someone else inside. We need to go.”

  “Is Jerry—” Keith cut off his question as Jerry emerged carrying a piece of pipe and a grim expression. “What happened?”

  “We can explain in the van. Let’s go!” Lainey hurried toward the vehicle and threw the rear door open.

  Owen followed with a shrug, lugging the case of spray paint with him. Bear woofed in agreement and Keith let him go. The dog hopped up into the back and the doors slammed shut. Guess they were leaving whether he wanted to stay or not.

  He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine as Jerry resumed his place in the passenger seat. Keith pulled away from the warehouse and onto a small street running parallel to the highway. Half a mile down the road, Jerry pointed out a boarded-up storefront and suggested they park behind it.

  As he turned off the engine, Keith demanded information. “Now tell me what happened.”

  Jerry kept it short and after a minute or two of explanation, he rubbed at his eyes. “It’s not going to get any easier.”

  Keith grimaced. “Do you think it was one of the people sleeping outside the store?”

  “Does it matter?” Jerry rolled his shoulder, wincing at the motion. “We have to be prepared for the worst from now on. No more assuming people are friendly.”

  “That’s not what I did.” Lainey protested from the back.

  “We can’t be too careful, that’s all.” Jerry’s tone softened, but his tight jaw betrayed him.

  It had been a closer call than either of them were letting on. Keith opened the driver’s door. “Then we shouldn’t waste any more time. Let’s give painting this thing a try.”

  With Bear’s leash hooked around a nearby tree, everyone grabbed a spray can from the case and set to work. They worked in sections, each person responsible for a quarter of the van.

  By the time they ran out of paint, any trace of the KSBF logo was gone, replaced by a dull black. Keith stepped back. “Not the nicest paint job I’ve ever seen, but it’ll get the job done.”

  “We can’t see out the back now.” Lainey frowned at the rear windows, thick with paint.

  “Couldn’t help it. The logo went right over the windows.” Keith dumped the box of empty cans into a nearby dumpster and walked Bear over to a weedy spot of dirt to relieve himself.

  The poor dog had been cooped up inside almost continuously for the past four days. He needed exercise, but it would have to wait. Once they reached Jerry’s place, they could rest and regroup. Spend a bit of time planning before rushing off to Chicago.

  He rumpled Bear’s fur and walked him back to the van. Lainey stood a bit off to the side, arms crossed as she stared out into space. He stopped beside her. “You okay?”

  She nodded, but didn’t look at him.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head.

  Based on her demeanor and the way she kept frowning at Jerry when he relayed the story earlier, Keith assumed something transpired between them, but he couldn’t guess what. An argument? It hardly seemed like the right time. He chalked it up as yet another thing to tackle when they reached Jerry’s place. “We should go.”

  Lainey reached for Bear’s leash and led him back to the rear of the van.

  It didn’t take long to find an on-ramp for the Glendale Freeway. Unlike the prior portion of restricted-access roadway, this one rose above the neighborhood, providing clear lines of sight and open vistas. They crossed over the LA aqueduct and climbed into the hills, merging onto the San Fernando Freeway before Jerry instructed Keith to exit.

  Palm trees lined the street on the edge of Pasadena. Gone were the miles of chain link and boarded-up shops and men with guns. In their place was a community garden and an electric vehicle charging station. Keith turned onto a narrow, two-lane road and climbed even higher into Altadena.

  As they drove farther into the foothills, the houses grew shabbier, trading in large lawns for rocks and cacti, and shiny new cars for old beaters.

  “It’s the next street. House on the corner. Driveway will be on the left.”

  Keith followed Jerry’s instructions and eased the van into a driveway of a little ranch house with a terracotta roof and a faded red front door. A gray pickup truck was parked beneath a metal awning and Keith pulled up behind it. They’d made it.

  He shut off the engine and leaned back in relief. They were out of the heart of LA and in a commuter town nearby. Far enough away that no one should have died from exposure.

  “Do you have that gun handy?”

  Keith gave a start. “Why?”

  Jerry cast an uneasy glance in his direction. “I never leave the screen door open.” He balled his hand into a fist. “Someone’s been in my house.”

  “Maybe the wind blew it open,” Owen offered as he rose up to peer through the windshield. “Looks like the front door is still shut.”

  “Not possible.” The muscles in Jerry’s jaw flexed. “I latched it.”

  Keith pulled the gun from the door pocket and handed it over to Jerry. “You know the house, you should lead.”

  Jerry took it and pulled back the slide, checking to confirm the weapon was loaded and ready to fire. “Bring that plumbing pipe, will you?”

  Lainey handed up the pipe to Keith and he weighed it in his hand. A solid weapon.

  “You two stay in the van. Keep Bear quiet. First sign of trouble, honk the horn.”

  Lainey nodded. “I’ll be watching.”

  Together Keith and Jerry exited the vehicle and ducked between the parked truck and the side entrance. Jerry motioned toward the back and dropped his voice to a whisper. “There’s a converted porch on the back. No curtains. We can get eyes on the inside that way.”

  Keith followed Jerry in a half-crouch, ducking beneath a small window to pause at the edge of the house. What used to be an exterior patio now sported low brick walls, oversized windows, and a glass French door. Jerry eased up to the first window and glanced inside.

  His shoulders tensed. He reached for the door and pushed it open without turning the knob. It was open? Not good. Keith twisted the plumbing pipe in his hands like a bat and widened his stance.

  “Stay here. I’ll clear it.” Jerry ducked inside without waiting for a response.

  Keith didn’t like it, but it wasn’t his house or his call. He shifted his weight back and forth as sweat slicked his palms.

  After a few minutes, Jerry returned. Two red spots flamed his cheeks, and the hand clenched around the gun shook, tremors inching up his arm. He held the gun out to Keith butt first and held out his free arm for the pipe. As he took it, he swung it around and smashed a terra-cotta pot off the ledge to the carport. Shards of clay flew across the scrubby backyard, embedding in the bank of begonias separating Jerry’s yard from his neighbor’s.

  “I take it that it’s clear?”

  “And torn all to hell.” Jerry cursed and kicked at the ground, fury and frustration plain across his face. “Looks like the whole neighborhood’s been in there, having a go of it at my expense.” Jerry held out a hand inviting Keith in. “Go in and see for yourself.”

  Keith stepped up into what used to be a porch and wheezed a breath out through clenched teeth. What at one time must have been a tidy little house with a cozy living room and eat-in kitchen now looked like the site of a mini-earthquake.

  Jerry edged inside and picked his way past the turned-over dining room table and ravaged buffet cabinet and stopped at the edge of the kitchen. “Pretty nice, huh?”

  Keith joined him. There wasn’t a single tile in the kitchen that wasn’t li
ttered with debris. Drawers hung by their edges, doors stood wide and gaping above the counter, broken glass dotted the floor. “I take it you didn’t leave it like this?”

  Jerry cursed and ran a hand down his face. “The cabinets were full of food. And this—” He traipsed through the kitchen and pushed ruined plates and mugs out of the way to open a door. “Used to be my pantry.” He sagged like he’d been punched in the gut. “They even stole my broom.”

  “What about the guns?” Keith hated to ask, but they needed to know.

  Jerry climbed back over the debris and walked through a living room now rumpled and destroyed. Bins of electronics were strewn about the floor and every cushion on the couch sported a slash mark through the middle. Keith followed Jerry into a bedroom where a dresser lay on its side and clothes piled in heaps.

  Jerry eased into the closet. A muffled string of curses and vile threats filtered through the slats in the door before he emerged. “Guns are gone, too.” Jerry’s voice warbled with rage. “I’ve only been gone four days.”

  “Maybe they thought you weren’t coming back.”

  Jerry pinned Keith with a look. “Whoever did this didn’t care.”

  “What do—” A honk cut Keith off and he turned toward the front of the house. “What was that?”

  The horn sounded again and Jerry nodded. “Sure sounded like the van.” He hoisted the pipe. “We’ve got company.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  LAINEY

  Jerry’s Residence

  Altadena, CA

  Wednesday, 3:00 p.m. PST

  Lainey honked the horn again. From her vantage point, the three men loitering in the road were up to no good. A low rumble echoed from deep within Bear’s chest as he stood half on the console and half in the back of the van. She didn’t try to soothe him, instead focusing all her energy on watching the strangers.

  One wore a hoodie pulled forward to hide the top half of his face. His hands fumbled inside a pocket, puffing it up as he shifted back and forth. Another stood still, arms folded across his barrel chest, staring at the van. He gave Lainey the creeps. The third was the animated one of the bunch, throwing his hands around as he spoke, first pointing at Jerry’s house and then the van.