by Alex Gunwick
“What do you mean? We should have plenty of food.”
“It’s been almost two weeks since the bombings. We’ve been eating the food from everyone’s pantries. We’re running out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” he asked.
“I thought you knew.”
“How would I have known? I don’t pay attention to our food supply.” That was woman’s work. He shouldn’t have to micromanage her.
“I thought you knew everything,” she said sarcastically.
His eyebrows drew together as he narrowed his gaze. He grabbed her upper arm and led her around the corner behind the shed. As soon as they were out of sight, he threw her against the wall. He grabbed her jaw and squeezed. Fear flooded her eyes.
“Don’t you ever talk to me that way,” he growled. “Especially in front of my people.”
“You’re hurting me.”
He released her and wiped his hands on the back of his slacks.
“How much food do we have left?”
“You’d know if you bothered to look every once in a while,” she said.
When he backhanded her, the sharp edge of her teeth cut into the back of his knuckles. He pulled his hand back and inspected it. He shook it out.
“Don’t make me ask twice.”
“We’ll be out within a week,” she whispered. She held her cheek and averted her gaze. Finally subservient, as any good wife should be.
“Get Turner.”
She scurried off, leaving him to pace back and forth behind the shed. He and his chief of security had searched all of the members’ homes to make sure they weren’t holding anything back. All of the food had been carefully catalogued and stockpiled in the church’s kitchen.
Anyone with half a brain would have warned him they were running low, but not Patrice. After fifteen years of marriage, he couldn’t remember what had attracted him to her in the first place. He should have divorced her years ago. What a waste of a life. He could have married someone else. Someone sweeter, sexier, and more capable of the tasks assigned to godly women. Someone like Nadine. If only he could put aside his wife and replace her with his mistress. Sure, the congregation might question his choice initially, but in the long run, they’d see he’d made a good decision.
Turner walked up to him.
“Patrice sent me over. She had a handprint on her face.” Turner frowned. “What happened?”
“I punished her for putting our community in jeopardy.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re running out of food.”
“How bad is it?”
“She says we only have a week’s worth of food left.”
“A week?” Turner’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t anyone say anything?”
“I don’t know, but I plan on talking to Melinda later. She does all the baking. She should have noticed the dwindling supplies.”
“What are we going to do about it?”
We, indeed. Elijah’s mouth twitched as he suppressed a smile. He could always count on Turner to have his back. As his right-hand man, Elijah could count on Turner to do anything he asked without question. He was a good soldier of righteousness.
“It’s time to raid that woman’s house,” Elijah said.
“The one with the daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Well…”
“What?”
“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to steal from anyone else. What if we made a trip into town instead?” Turner asked.
“With what vehicle? None of them work. We’d have to go on foot. It would take an entire day.”
“But we wouldn’t be stealing.”
“It’s not stealing. We’re God’s ordained people. We deserve all of the bounty that He has to offer. Have you caught any more squirrels?”
“Not since day before yesterday.”
“The forest is barren. There aren’t enough big animals to support us. Even if we managed to kill a mountain lion, it would only hold us over for a few days. We need more. We should have been stockpiling food from day one.”
“We didn’t know how long this would last,” Turner said.
“It’s the edge of the world. Armageddon, and if we’re to make the final stand against darkness, then we need sustenance.”
“We can get it from the city. There must be some food left in the city.”
“Maybe,” Elijah said. “But would it be worth the risk? We could be outgunned. We could run into other groups. Stronger groups. More organized. Larger.”
“Our group is as strong as they come,” Turner said with conviction.
“Yes, but the army of darkness may be stronger. What would be safer for our people: facing an unknown number of people in town, or facing a handful of people at that woman’s house?”
“The house.”
“You’ve been watching it, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Have you seen the woman’s husband?”
“Not yet,” Turner said.
“She’s probably divorced. A woman as bull-headed and cocky as she would drive any man away.”
“Or he’s been inside every time we’ve been there.”
“If he’s hiding, then he’s a coward. Easily defeated.”
“They keep their food in a shed behind the house,” Turner said.
“Excellent. If you went at night, could you get in and out without being seen? We don’t want a repeat incident of the time your team tried to breach the main house. We lost a good man that day. We can’t afford to lose any more.”
“We could go tonight. I’ll take a couple of the guys with me. From what I can tell, she’s got a stockpile of rice and beans, along with some canned food.”
“Take as much as you can. Take everything if possible. We’ll only have one shot at this. Once she discovers an empty shed, she’ll probably realize we were there. I want our perimeter maintained while you’re gone. Tell your men to pay special attention to the forest. She’s a good shot. With a rifle, she could get us from within the tree line.”
“Will do. Anything else?”
“Let’s keep this to ourselves. I don’t want anyone else to worry about food. It’s my job to provide for them, so I’ll provide.”
After Turner left, Elijah pulled the shed key out from underneath his shirt. He used it to open the door. Inside, a multitude of weapons glinted at the ready. When an army of true believers had God on their side, they were unstoppable. Nothing would go wrong tonight. And tomorrow, they’d celebrate with a feast.
9
Luke held a flashlight in an ice pick-like grip with his left hand, while he pointed the gun with his right hand. Using this technique made it easy to operate the pressure switch at the end the flashlight, and it also gave him the ability to strike downward with the hand holding it.
After scanning each of the rooms on the first floor for threats, he nodded at Boyd. They headed toward the stairs. They’d agreed to remain silent until they could clear the entire building. They could have tried to go floor by floor, hunting for threats as well as food at the same time, but Luke didn’t want their attention split between safety and sustenance.
Five floors needed to be cleared. As Luke approached each doorway, he swept the room in a wide arc before entering it to check for hiding places. Everything seemed undisturbed. If he hadn’t known that the world was ending, he would have expected to see employees hard at work. Computers, phones, and knickknacks covered desks. Photos of families, pets, and vacation spots hung from cubicle walls.
He’d already spotted multiple food items in plain view, but until they cleared the last closet, they wouldn’t relax.
Forty minutes later, Luke was satisfied that they were completely alone.
“Let’s start here and work our way back down,” Luke said.
“I got dibs on that Three Musketeers bar we passed a minute ago,” Boyd said.
“Go for it.”
As Boyd trotted off to grab the candy bar, Luke headed tow
ard a desk with a neon-green sports drink. He unscrewed the cap and took a long swig of “Electric Cool,” whatever that meant. The chemical aftertaste lingered on his tongue as he searched the drawers for food.
He struck out at the first desk. The second one was a dud too. But the third desk contained a half-eaten beef jerky pack as well as several sticks of gum. He didn’t plan on eating the gum, but it would be a nice treat to stave off some of the monotony of walking down the railroad tracks. Although, after everything he’d been through, he could go for a little monotony. He chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Boyd asked as he returned from the other side of the room.
“I was thinking about our situation. A little over a week ago, my biggest worry was a flight delay. Now I’m struggling to find food. I didn’t realize how spoiled I’d been. Before the bombs, there was food everywhere. So much food that we were killing ourselves eating too much of it. Now people are out there starving.”
“I’ve got a garden at my house. The wife loves her tomato plants. We’ve also got a bunch of squash. I swear I’ve eaten it in every possible form. Baked, grilled, sautéed, stirred into soup. Let me tell you, if you need a plant that goes crazy with a little water, plant some squash.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Luke said.
“Does your wife garden?”
“Not really. We’ve got some flowers, but nothing you can eat.”
“Some flowers are edible,” Boyd said. “They’re not going to keep you from starving, but my wife likes to use them to pretty up dinner.”
“What’s her name?”
“Vicki.”
“Mine’s Liz.”
“Luke and Liz. Sounds good together.”
“How long have you been married?” Luke asked.
“Gosh, must be twenty—no—twenty-two years now. Man, time flies.”
“Liz and I have been married twenty years.”
“Any kids?” Boyd asked.
“Two. Sierra and Kyle. You?”
“Three. Molly, Dean, and Sam. Molly and Dean are both in college. Sam’s got two more years and then he’ll be off to college too. Well, if going to college is even an option in two years. How long do you think this thing’s going to last?”
“I heard we got hit by an EMP.”
“I thought that only happened in movies.”
“Apparently not.”
“Is it something we can recover from?” Boyd asked.
“Eventually, but it could take years. It depends on how widespread the EMP was. If it only covered part of the continental US, then we could be back online in a year or two if we can get new transformers from overseas.”
“And if not?”
“If not…God, I hate to even think about it,” Luke said.
“Do you think other countries got hit too?”
“I have no idea. No one knows what’s going on. I met a couple of people with HAM radios, but information is spotty and unreliable. Even when we had the internet it was hard to figure out what was real and what was pure speculation or an all-out lie.”
“I knew things were getting bad when the politicians started lying about everything,” Boyd said.
“All the signs were there.”
“I wish I’d stocked up on canned food. I read a bunch of articles about how things could go bad. There were all these shows on TV about how to garden, hunt, and fish, but I never went out and tried any of it. If I can’t find enough canned food for my family, we’re not going to make it.”
Luke listened without comment. Boyd was starting to grow on him, but they weren’t friends, and they certainly weren’t family, so there was no way he was going to tell Boyd about his stockpile of food. For security reasons, he hadn’t even mentioned the city he was headed toward. He’d told Boyd he was heading south, but didn’t give any specifics.
“Let’s clear this floor then move down one,” Luke said. “If you can find a bag or backpack, grab it. Load up as much as you can carry and let’s get going. I want to make some more progress before nightfall.”
“Okay.”
They worked to clean out the fifth floor before moving down one. On the fourth, Boyd spotted a backpack. After emptying it, he filled it with several pop-top cans of tuna and more energy bars.
The third floor netted a huge water supply. Someone had a pack of twenty-four, eight ounce bottles. They guzzled as much water as they could stand before loading the rest of the bottles into their packs.
On the second floor, they added some peanut butter pretzels to their supply. Boyd munched on a handful as they headed toward the stairs.
“How full is your bag?” Luke asked.
“About half-full,” Boyd said between bites.
“I saw a gym across the way. Should we hit that up next?”
“A gym? They don’t have any food.”
“They might. Usually they have a couple of vending machines or a juice bar with snacks.”
“I guess it’s worth a shot,” Boyd said.
Downstairs, they carefully picked a path through the glass. After checking to make sure the street was clear, they jogged across to the gym. A barbell hung halfway out of the front door. The windows had also been smashed out.
Back on high alert, Luke climbed through the door and swept the room with his flashlight and gun. Unlike the office building, the gym was trashed inside. Shattered shards of mirrors reflected a kaleidoscope of destruction. Weight benches had been tossed across the room. Dumbbells poked holes through the drywall. The only equipment that hadn’t been disturbed was bolted to the floor.
“What a mess,” Boyd said.
“What a waste. Let’s check the locker rooms before we start looking for food.”
“Okay.”
The locker rooms were silent. No one hid behind any of the doors and the closets were either locked or clear.
“Try to stay away from the front windows,” Luke said. “We don’t want anyone walking by to spot us.”
“Be a ghost. Got it.”
Luke smiled. At least Boyd had turned out to be a good travel buddy. So far he’d been pulling his own weight, helping where he could, and standing back while Luke checked for hostiles. At least he’d have someone to talk to for the next thirty miles. They could take turns keeping watch at night and it never hurt to have an extra set of eyes scanning for threats.
For the first time in a long time, Luke relaxed slightly. They hadn’t run into any trouble in the last couple of hours. It didn’t mean danger wasn’t coming, but for now, he felt relatively safe. Hopefully Liz and the kids were relaxing at the cabin. In a few days’ time he’d be back at their secluded sanctuary where he’d be able to rest and mentally prepare himself for the long road ahead.
Luke grabbed a dumbbell from a weight rack and headed toward the women’s locker rooms.
“Where are you going with that?” Boyd asked.
“I need tampons.”
“Whoa! Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Luke laughed.
“Why tampons?”
“You can use them to plug bullet holes,” Luke said.
“I hope you don’t plan on getting shot again.”
“That’s definitely not part of the plan, but I’m out of gauze. Medical supplies are scarce already. I want to get them while I can.”
“Well you’re in luck. I found a first aid kit in one of the desks.”
“Nice score.”
“Let’s see what we’ve got in here.” Boyd opened the metal box and began poking through the contents. “A few Band-Aids, antibiotic cream, alcohol cleansing pads, aspirin, and a butterfly wound closure.”
“I hope we don’t need any of it, but I’m glad we have it.”
“Me too. What did you find so far?”
“I picked up a cigarette lighter, a pencil, and some garbage bags,” Luke said.
“A pencil? What are you going to do with that?”
“When I was a kid I had a buddy who really liked to p
lay with fire. A bit of a pyro if you ask me. One day we were in the garage with an old car battery and jumper cables. He asked if I wanted to see something cool. I was about thirteen at the time so I was ready for anything. So he hands me a pencil and an X-ACTO knife.”
“I can’t wait to hear where this is headed,” Boyd said.
“He tells me to scrape all of the paint off the outside of the pencil. I do. Then he tells me the lead inside is a mixture of graphite and clay. I couldn’t give two shits about the pencil, but he liked to explain every detail of his crazy experiments, so I go along with it.”
“Smile and nod.”
“Yep. Anyway, he tells me the lead will catch on fire if you hit it with an electrical current.”
“I see where this is headed,” Boyd said.
“So he clips the red cable to one end of the pencil and the black cable to the other. Then he hooks them up to the battery. Red to the positive, black to the negative.”
“Or switch them up for a real fireworks display.” Boyd grinned.
“Not if you value your life.”
“It’s not like the thing’s going to explode.”
“No, but it will spark like crazy.”
“Another way to get a fire started.”
“Remind me never to put you in charge of starting the fire,” Luke grumbled.
“So what happened?”
“So he hooks up the jumper cables to the battery and boom! The whole pencil bursts into flames.”
“I want to try that right now,” Boyd said.
“If you have a pair of jumper cables and a battery stashed somewhere, we could do it.”
“I’m fresh out.”
“Same here. But I figured it wouldn’t hurt to hang onto the pencil just in case.”
“Let’s hit up an auto supply place next. I’ve got to see this pencil exploding thing,” Boyd said.
“I want to keep moving south. You can try it once you get home.”
“Buzz kill.”
“Pyro.”
“You said you grabbed trash can liners too?”
“Yeah. You can use them as rain gear, for water collection, ground cover, a sun shade, a blanket—”
“Okay, MacGyver. I get it,” Boyd said.
“You’ve got to start thinking outside the box. We’re used to having specialized tools and equipment for every possible scenario. But those days will be over soon. When you can’t go to the store to get a lighter, how will you start a fire? When you can’t get new roof tiles for your house, how will you keep rain out?”