by Holly Hook
Someone honked behind us. People were getting more desperate and the traffic was only moving a tiny bit faster than before. Cars lined the side of the road like giant rocks on a beach, left there by water. Why was everyone trying to get into New York City? It made sense to scatter, to get away from everyone else as much as you could.
The traffic sped up to about ten now that people were getting off the road, but it was still backed up and scary. The sign for the next exit emerged from the dark, shining in all the headlights, but the ramp, like the others, was blocked by people trying to get off. There was a large town up ahead, with a few of the buildings lit and a sign for one of those huge buy-in-bulk stores. It was no wonder people were trying to get off there. Even now, people were walking back and forth with boxes stacked high with food. There was a whole stream of them going to and from the huge store, which was a dark, flat building against the brownish night haze.
Everything was getting looted.
“We can't go that way,” I said. Panic was rising. It was four AM by this point and even though the towns were getting closer together and buildings were getting more dense, there were also more people. Places would be taken.
“They're raiding the city for all the supplies they can get,” Jerome said. “The army must be taking from all the smaller towns. You know, to keep the whole thing quiet.”
“I just want my father,” I said. “I'm not here for supplies, but if we can find those, that would be cool.”
It seemed like Jerome was right. The ramps got closer together, but only the smallest cars could actually exit and weave around the stopped traffic that was covering the grass and every available inch of pavement. Every town had become a packed concert. It seemed like the whole country had flocked this way, looking for food, and they weren't leaving until they got it. Operation Stardust was in full swing and those of us not worth saving were coming here for the scraps.
But it made sense.
More people, more population density, more stores and more food.
Four-thirty.
The horizon was lightening just the tiniest bit, showing a hint of rust on black.
“We need to hurry,” I said, thinking of Dr. Shetlin and the burns covering her body. I checked my coat, but it was fleece and had no hood. I turned out the pockets and found no hat, no anything. I could burrow inside the coat when the sun rose, but Jerome needed to see and even exposing his face would be dangerous. The others were fine in the back of the truck.
“We can't,” Jerome said, biting his lip. Then he turned on his turn signal and whipped over onto the shoulder. “Check that. Maybe we can!”
There was an exit...and the shoulder was open. I saw that the sign said the town was Spring something. There were tons of buildings and two of them were lit, one a hospital and the other a low warehouse. The ramp was backed up like the others, but the shoulder and the grass were free.
The truck lurched and threatened to topple into the ditch that divided the highway from the off ramp. I screamed and grabbed onto the door handle, leaning to the side as if that would prevent the truck from going in. But Jerome hit the gas and the truck righted, climbing over weeds and at last, to rest under a burnt-out traffic signal. We were near a medical center, which towered over everything. It was packed. I saw the shadow of someone walking inside. It was uplifting to see something with lights on, even if it was a hospital and I hated them all. I'd seen too much horror in those places. Some of the people in there were waiting for the worst.
It was another backup on the road until we got past the hospital and the road cleared up. The town was a pretty big one.
“I don't think we should continue until we get something to put over our heads,” I said. “You know, for driving in the daytime.” A river of cars came up the ramp behind us, taking advantage of the opening. I thought I saw the car with the family, but remembered that they had abandoned their vehicle a long time ago.
The horizon was brighter now. It would turn dangerous in less than an hour. When the sun peeked over and tried to glare through the clouds, we were doomed.
“I wonder if there are any sunglasses or goggles we can find,” Jerome said. “Think. You came up with the insulation armor idea. What can we use?”
“Anything,” I said, searching around. There was an abandoned K-mart to our right and there weren't that many cars in the parking lot. The lights were all off, but there were people walking in and out of the broken doors and they weren't fighting each other. There were boxes, but no grocery trucks ready to take food from peoples' mouths.
“That'll work,” Jerome said, pulling into the parking lot. As soon as he did, three guys near the entrance of the K-Mart stopped, dropped their boxes and ran off into the pale dawn. These people were scared of us, scared of the sight of trucks like this. The army had been raiding for at least several days.
“We've got to be careful,” I said. “All of us should get out and at least use the bathroom if the toilets aren't backed up too bad.”
“Good luck,” Jerome said.
I was practically squirming in my seat. “These ones shouldn't have bodies.”
We parked close the building, almost up on the sidewalk where someone had abandoned a grocery cart. I got out and waited for the burn of the coming day, but the sun hadn't reached that point yet. We had to get in and figure something out.
And then I did something that I probably shouldn't have. I opened the back door of the truck, sliding it up to reveal the others standing there.
“Shopping trip,” I announced, trying to sound all light and happy. “Everyone out. We're going to keep driving after this. Jerome's got the keys.” I went on to explain the plan.
He stood next to me and shook them. The door to K-Mart lay open and broken.
Inside, it was almost pure dark except for other moving flashlights. We walked past a family with a shopping cart heaped high with packaged foods on the way in. They were pushing it out past the registers, none of which were lit and working. I didn't spot anyone in an employee vest anywhere. It was all anarchy now.
“So do we grab a cart?” Alana asked.
“I suppose so,” I said, looking back to make sure that the truck was locked up. “Everyone's cooperating, at least.” No one was messing with it yet. “We just need to find something to cover us from the sun. No food. Leave it for the people who need it.”
The clothing section was the most barren one of the store. There were no coats out on sale since it was June and no one expected the weather to get bad, but the sweaters and long sleeved shirts were all gone, leaving only the skimpiest bathing suits and shortest shorts behind. No one wanted them now. Alana and I poked through the clothes, but everything that was any good was taken. And it was cold in here, too, which had probably affected most peoples' stealing choices. When I exhaled, I could see my breath. A cool breeze washed through the store, making me tuck my hands into the sleeves of my coat.
“There might be stuff in the hunting section,” Tony said, leaning into the womens' clothing area. “And the guys' clothes actually, you know, cover your body. You might want to look there.”
“Good idea,” I said. “Thanks.” I was hating Tony less and less. The whole David incident was getting farther behind us and it didn't matter anymore. Even that had taken place in another time. We had survived together for this long. There was no point in fighting anymore.
We moved over and checked the guys' section. There were hoodies, which were great for keeping the sun off us. I swapped my coat for an oversize one that I could pull over my head and hide under and so did Alana. On the other side of the mens' section, Christina and Jasmine waved to us from underneath their own hoodies. This hadn't been raided yet. Maybe the people of New York state were used to wearing this sort of thing and everyone had them on hand already.
The sunglasses were pretty picked over, though, and we found a middle aged guy turning the rack around and around, trying not to find a pair that was pink or purple tinted. He looked at u
s, gave up, and headed for the front door. No one in the store was talking to each other. Every person was for themselves. The pharmacy section was no better. Everything but the vitamins was picked over and of course there wasn't a single bottle of sunscreen left. Even the SPF lip balm had been taken. The sun was the big enemy right now, maybe even more than hunger.
The deli section smelled so bad I didn't want to venture into it and the food that hadn't spoiled—the cans and the boxed stuff—were getting really picked over now that news of food shortages were getting out. The area was packed with carts and families trying to stock up. Some people had even brought their children with them, and I saw eight year olds helping their parents gather cans and boxes of whatever they could grab. Pickiness was gone. The snack aisle was so packed with people that Alana and Jerome and I decided not to even try heading down that way. The shelves were getting bare and even here, nobody spoke much, not even an excuse me. A mother called for her two kids. All these people knew that their neighbors would likely die and I could see it on their faces. It was best not to make friends right now.
My disease had infected the world. It had spread from me and gone to all these people.
“We should go,” Jerome said.
“I agree.” We had the truck. We already had our own food.
A young couple, one not much older than us, stopped shoving cans of green beans into their cart. The woman nodded at us. “Good luck,” she said. “Stephen and I are heading out to Utah. The gangs aren't raiding the small towns too much.”
“Gangs?” I asked. It was the first time someone in here had spoken to us.
“They're everywhere,” she said while the man, a guy with huge tribal earrings and a long beard, shoved a few boxes of gluten free crackers into the cart. He wasn't even paying attention to what he was grabbing, he was so desperate. “My uncle told me stories about them shooting people and taking their food. They're really bad in cities right now. It's either starve or risk your life to eat.” Her face was a mask like she was holding her emotions back. “Where are you headed?”
“I don't know,” I said. I hated to crush her hope, but I had to warn her. “The towns out west aren't good either. We came across a group of guys who were definitely going to kill us way out in Arizona. The looters are headed out that way because almost no one's left alive.”
Her eyes bulged. They were brown, almost the same shade of Jerome's. “You came from out west? There's no one left out there.”
“We were underground looking at a particle collider when the radiation hit,” Alana told her. “There is almost no one left out there. Just bad people. And it's the army that's been raiding stores, too. I don't know if they're shooting people to do it, but--”
“FREEZE!”
A man's voice rang out on a megaphone and all of us in the aisle, the tough-looking tribal guy included, jumped.
“Drop everything you are carrying,” the megaphone voice said from the front of the store. “Move to the back of the store and leave your carts, and you will not be harmed.”
Jerome cursed. Everyone in the aisle froze like they weren't sure what to do. The mom with the kids still held onto her cart.
A warning shot fired and something shattered near the front of the store.
It was panic. Kids screamed and cried and I seized Jerome's arm and pulled him out of the aisle. The young couple followed the three of us out of the aisle and towards the back of the store. It was all moving bodies and people shoving against each other. I couldn't breathe. I was caught in a raging stampede to safety and there was nothing I could do about it. Alana reached out for me but got lost behind two screaming women who were running for the back exit and not looking back.
Where were the others?
Tony and Mina and Christina and Jasmine? Gina? Gina still had the bad foot from being shot there. She would be the last out of the store.
And the sun was rising.
Not everyone could run outside yet unless they were covered.
I caught my breath and ran with the others. The plastic curtain that led to storage parted ahead as the young couple bolted through it. An older woman tripped and clenched her teeth, reaching for her knee, but no one stopped to help her. I couldn't. Everyone was shoving me, screaming and in panic. Another shot fired and an old fish tank full of dead things shattered and spilled water all over the floor. They were shooting at us. Whoever had come through the door was making no good on their promise.
“Laney! Out back!” Jerome yelled in my ear. “We're covered. We can run and make it.”
I thought of the truck still out front. The gang or whoever would find it. They'd want it. Our supplies and transportation would be gone. We pushed through the plastic curtain, which stuck to my face for two terrifying seconds before we entered the storage room. People scattered among palates of plastic-wrapped groceries and pet food and stood there. The back doors were shut, letting in pale light underneath them. I stopped and pressed against a palate of water bottles while Tony and Mina shoved through the plastic, followed by Gina who was being carried by Christina and Jasmine. We were all here. Alive. Another family burst through and then there was no one else. Another shot fired out in the store.
“Did you hear that?” A rough man called out without the megaphone. He sounded closer. They were coming back through the store. “Did you hear that, sheep? This store is ours. You're not going to mess with us.” Only he used another word in place of mess. “Get out that back door and don't look back, or we're going to make sure your stay here is short.”
I eyed the back door. A tiny bit of light came from under it. A little kid was crying and someone was trying to shush them. It wasn't like the gang or whoever didn't know we were back here. A man ran to the double doors and pushed at them, but they refused to open.
“They're locked,” he said.
A wave of panic swept through everyone standing back here. Mutters rose and fell.
“There has to be another door,” I said. Another shot fired out in the store and someone out there screamed. There were still survivors out there and these guys were picking themoff. The plastic rose and my heart leapt into my chest, but I let out of a breath when the old woman with the injured knee crawled through. She stood and leaned against a palate of dog food, just within the beam of someone's flashlight.
“Turn that off,” someone said, and the flashlight clicked off.
“I agree,” Jerome said. But the room was dark and the only light now was the pale morning glow coming in through the plastic curtain and under the double doors. Alana and Jerome and I ran to the back of the room. I bumped into the guy with the tribal earrings and he said nothing as we brushed past him. There must be over a hundred people in here. It was all quiet breathing. Why weren't people trying to get out of here? Everyone had frozen.
It was more palates on the back wall, which had more people than I could count. It was all still bodies as I squinted, trying to see what as on the back wall, but it was no use. The man continued to rattle at the double doors, trying to make them give way, but I caught a glimpse of a padlock as my eyes adjusted. The store might have put it there to stop thieves from taking the inventory in the middle of the night. Now it was a death sentence.
This wasn't supposed to be an exit. Just storage. The emergency exits were through the bottle return, right? We didn't have a K Mart near Colton so I didn't know.
Everyone was very, very quiet except for the guy at the doors. I stopped right there at the edge of the human perimeter and faced Alana and Jerome.
“How many guys do you think are out there?” I asked.
Another shot fired. There was no way to tell.
“I don't know,” Jerome said. “A few?”
There weren't many gunshots. A horrible idea bloomed in my mind. If it was just a few guys, and we all ran for the front door at the same time, they couldn't shoot us all. They were moving through the store. Scattering. They wanted to guard all these supplies and wouldn't bother to chase us down, lea
ving the store open to other looters.
It might mean a few people would die, but not all of us.
Certain death would come for us all if we waited here for them to find us.
“Everyone,” I said, raising my voice enough for everyone to hear.
I had lives in my hands. Again. I couldn't do this.
“What?” the man near the double doors asked. “We need to get this open.”
“It won't open,” I told him. I was scared the guys out in the store were going to hear us, but I had to take the risk. “They're going to get back here eventually and then they're going to open fire. We need to figure out how many of them there are and go for the front entrance.”
“That's insane,” the tribal guy said. “They could be guarding it.”
“We don't know that,” I said, even though I knew that was probably true. “Waiting here is death.” I wasn't going to watch these people die if there was something we could do, something we could try, even if it didn't work. I'd never do that again. “I'll go out and see how many are out there. They're probably by the beer so I'll go around that area. I can--”
Jerome squeezed my arm. “Not again, Laney,” he whispered in my ear. “Send me or someone else instead.”
“This was my idea,” I said, even though terror squeezed my heart at the thought. Those guys would find us back here any second. We were all trapped here, waiting for death or worse.
And then voices rose from outside the storage room.
“You think they're gone?” one man asked someone.
“I don't see anyone left in the store,” a woman said. She sounded just as mean as the man. “Shot an old man who was trying to hide near the pharmacy. I think they all ran out the back.”
“Nash is over by the drinks,” the man said. “Shame the beer is gone bu there's some vodka left. Others got here before us.”
“We need a guard near the front door,” the woman said. Their voices were getting fainter. They hadn't thought to check out the storage area yet. No one paid attention to that dark space behind the plastic curtains, where the milk got shoved into the shelves for people to buy and employees walked in and out for breaks. But they would. Especially if Nash had an idea as to where there might be more beer.