by Alex Gunwick
“Did you guys find anything useful?”
“A couple of bags of beef jerky, some astronaut ice cream, and a couple of cases of freeze-dried camping food,” Burt said.
“What about survival kits?” she asked. “Sometimes they have those three-day or even thirty-day kits.”
“We found a three-day, but it only had enough calories to keep one person barely alive. I don’t know why they keep the calorie counts so low,” Burt said.
“No thirty-day kits?”
“No.”
“We found some baby food and some canned stuff. Not much,” she said. “Should we check Walmart next?”
“Yeah.”
After stowing the new food supply, they drove toward Walmart. Situated between both entrances to the store, a huge bonfire lit up the night. Trucks formed a large circle around the fire. Men and women stood around the fire with guns in one hand, beer in the other. At a quick glance, she guessed there were at least fifty people.
“Turn around,” she said.
“Yep.” Burt made a U-turn in the middle of the road and headed back toward the movie theater.
“What about that office building?” Harvey asked.
“Good call,” she said. “Go around back. I don’t think those guys saw us, but just in case, we should hide the truck again.”
“What are we looking for?” Franklin asked.
“Vending machines. A break room. People’s desks. Look for anything edible. We didn’t get nearly enough food from Target. We need more. A lot more,” she said.
“Ten-minute time limit?” Harvey asked.
“I don’t think we’ll be able to search the whole building in ten minutes, so let’s start with the top floor and assess after every floor. We need to move fast,” she said.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Harvey asked. “I think we should head back.”
“We don’t have enough food yet.”
“I know, but we’re also still alive. We could get trapped up there if other people show up.”
“We might not have another chance to get back here,” she said. “Those guys at Walmart are going to run out eventually, if they haven’t already. We didn’t get close enough to see what they had. They’ll ransack this building next if they have any sense.”
“Okay, but I think we should post a guard,” Harvey said. “Someone needs to stay outside with a whistle. At the first sign of trouble, we get out.”
“Agreed.”
“Remember, look for anything edible,” she said. “Even gum. You never know when we might need it for something.”
“I’ll take watch,” Harvey said.
“We won’t be long,” she said. “Remember guys, top floor first. We meet up before we go down another floor.”
“Got it,” Franklin said.
Inside the office building, everything appeared normal. A set of stairs next to the reception desk led up two floors. On the top floor, they quickly searched the desks, coming up with several packets of flavored tuna, cans of soda, crackers, and other shelf-stable items.
Elated by the haul, Liz met Burt at the top of the stairs. “Are your bags too full? Should we unload into the truck?”
“I’d rather hit the second floor first. Then we dump and come back for the first floor,” he said.
“Sounds good.”
The entire second floor consisted of a call center. Apparently the employees loved their snacks because she found more than she could carry. Cans of chili, potato chips, pork rinds, seaweed crackers, and roasted chickpeas.
She scrunched her nose at the seaweed, but it still counted as food. If nothing else, it would be a good source of sodium.
“My bags are full,” Burt said. “I can’t believe how much these people keep in their desks.”
“When I worked in customer service, we kept a convenience store-level supply of food in our desks. We were hopped up on sugar and caffeine just to get through the day,” she said.
“I’m glad I never had to work in a call center,” Burt said.
“What kind of work did you do?”
“I was a mortician.”
“No kidding.”
“I preferred working with people who couldn’t talk back.” He flashed a crooked smile. “It might sound weird to other people, but it was the least stressful job I’ve ever had. I prefer working alone.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed that since you’re so active in our group.”
“You’re nice people, not assholes.” He shrugged. “I guess I got lucky in that regard.”
“I can’t carry anything else.” Franklin walked up. “Let’s drop everything off and finish off the building.”
After unloading their haul, they returned to clean out the first floor. Franklin and Burt climbed into the truck bed.
“Let’s go home.” Liz hopped into the passenger seat.
The trip back to the cabins took well over an hour. They’d circled around Portola Hills so they wouldn’t run into the clubhouse group again.
On the drive back, Liz strategized how best to retain as much food as possible. Since her family didn’t have anything left, it shouldn’t be too hard to convince the others to give her the lion’s share of their haul. At least she hoped it wouldn’t be. But there were plenty of stubborn women in their community, so she spent the rest of the trip mentally preparing for a fight.
Sierra dragged her feet as she headed toward the creek for her fifth water run for the day. Losing their food supply was all her fault. If she hadn’t been so eager to hang out with other people, the preacher and his weird family would never have discovered the cabin. She kept messing up and didn’t know how she could ever make it up to her family. They’d probably hate her forever.
She shuddered to think about how disappointed her dad would be when he got home. He’d spent years stockpiling supplies. And in one night, her carelessness had cost them everything. Now they had nothing to eat. Her mom was out risking her life to get more food. What if she got killed? What would she do? She wasn’t prepared to take care of Kyle.
Another question nagged at the edge of her mind. Was Adam involved in the theft? She’d told him about their food supply. Maybe not specifics, but he had to know they were well off if she had enough to share. Was he part of this? Did he tell the preacher about the cans she’d given him? Had he betrayed her trust?
She hated the world they were living in. Ever since the bombings, she didn’t know who she could trust. In the old world, most people were kind and good. But now… now it was a different world. A broken world. One in which she couldn’t trust anyone or anything.
From now on, she’d have to be much more careful about who she talked to, and about what she said. Giving information away would only hurt her in the long run.
She set one of the buckets on a rock next to the creek. She took the other into the rushing water and scooped up as much as she could carry. As she walked back toward the empty bucket, footsteps sounded on the path. She quickly set the bucket down and spun around. Adam slowly walked toward her. He carried a bucket in each hand.
“They put you on water detail too?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“You look like crap.”
“I feel like crap.” He flipped a bucket over and sat on it. “I need to rest for a minute.”
“Are you sick?”
“No. Just hungry. I don’t have any energy left.”
“I thought you’d be feasting today,” she said with a heap of sarcasm.
“Why would you think that?”
“Don’t play dumb.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked warily.
“Last night a bunch of men stole all of our food.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Know anything about it?” She put her hands on her hips and glared.
“No, but…”
“What?”
“I heard there was a feast at the church last night. My mom and I weren’t allowed to eat dinner last
night or this morning. And I’ve been on bucket detail all day.”
“I’ve been walking back and forth to the stream for an hour and I didn’t see you here,” she challenged. “And this is our stream. You shouldn’t even be here.”
“Why are you so pissed?”
“Because you told them.” Her voice cracked. “How could you do that to me? I thought we were friends.”
“I didn’t tell them anything. I didn’t even tell my mom about the cans you gave me.”
“I don’t believe you. Why was the preacher mad at your mom?”
“I don’t know. I can’t believe you think I told them. Why would I do that? We’re friends. At least, I thought we were.”
“The feast you mentioned—that was our food. They stole it.”
He hung his head and covered his face with his hands.
“Don’t lie to me,” she snapped.
“I’m not lying. I didn’t tell anyone, and I didn’t know they were going to steal your food.”
“Well they did, and now—” She stopped short. She wasn’t going to tell him a damn thing about her mom heading off to find more. If the preacher found out she and Kyle were alone, there was no telling what he might do.
“I’m sorry. I hate him. He’s evil. I can’t understand why no one else sees it. I think my mom does, but every time I try to talk to her about it, she tells me to be quiet. She’s afraid someone will overhear us. The place was nice at first, but it’s getting weirder by the day. He’s setting up all kinds of rules, and if you break them, there’s hell to pay.”
“What kind of hell?” she asked.
“He’s withholding food, even water sometimes. He’s running the group like a king. Like we’re his servants or something. It’s weird. I want to leave, but my mom says we don’t have anywhere else to go. I’d be happy to be homeless at this point if it means getting away from him.”
“So you really didn’t tell him?”
“No.” His blue eyes reflected the pale gray sky. “I’d never betray you like that. I don’t tell him anything. Not that I have anything to hide, but if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t talk to him.”
The dejected tone of his voice pulled at her heart. The preacher victimized him just as much as he’d victimized her family. She struggled against the urge to comfort him. Maybe this was all an act to get closer to her. Although he seemed sincere, she was hesitant to trust him.
“Have you asked your mom about going back to your house in Coto?” she asked.
“Multiple times. She always tells me it’s not an option.”
“Maybe the fact that he’s starving you guys will help her change her mind.”
“I don’t know. She thinks there’s strength in numbers.”
“Only if they’re going to take care of each other.”
“True.”
“You should talk to her again. Tell her that you can’t stay there anymore.”
“I’ll try. At this point I’d rather go home and try to defend my house than stay here.” He stood and grabbed his buckets. “I need to get back before they notice I’ve been gone longer than normal.”
“I’m sorry you’re trapped.”
“Me too.”
After he filled the buckets, he headed back down the trail toward the preacher’s compound. As much as she wanted to harden her heart against him, she couldn’t. He’d never done anything to make her question his friendship. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who could lie right to your face without flinching. The preacher certainly could, but not Adam.
So maybe her judgment wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. When she’d first met the preacher, she hadn’t liked him. He had the gross, slimy vibe of a reptile. If only she’d listened to her gut.
Going forward, she’d pay more attention to that inner voice that told her something wasn’t right. She only wished she’d listened when she’d met the preacher. She could have avoided so much trouble.
As she filled the buckets, she vowed to do better. She needed to help her mom. She’d been working so hard and looked totally exhausted every day. Even though her dad would be back in a few days, she knew it wouldn’t change much. There were too many tasks and not enough people to complete them.
Before the bombs, she’d enjoyed the occasional afternoon nap between classes. Back then, she hadn’t thought twice about that little bit of freedom. Now she’d give anything to be able to go back to that simpler time. Would she ever be able to take a nap again? Probably not, so she might as well get used to it.
15
Luke winced as each step sent a spark of pain down his leg. Blood saturated the bandage. He needed to replace it and suck down a pain pill—or ten. He’d briefly considered attempting to infiltrate the hospital, but after hearing about its condition from the kids, he knew it would be a lost cause.
He and Boyd had been following Mason and Noah’s chalk line for the better part of an hour. As far as Luke could tell, they were still headed south. They hadn’t encountered the kids, or anyone else, but he hadn’t relaxed his guard. He kept the flashlight in his left hand, while his right hand rested on the butt of his gun.
Pale light streamed down from open gutters every few hundred feet. He figured they’d entered a residential neighborhood, but hadn’t risked a peek. He didn’t want to go out until after dark. The throbbing in his leg wasn’t a good sign. He doubted he’d be able to outrun any attackers. Once they got topside, he needed to check for infection. Based on feel alone, it wasn’t looking good.
“We’ve got maybe an hour or so before sundown,” Luke said. “We need to find a place to stay tonight.”
“Not down here,” Boyd said.
“Definitely not. If a flood came tearing through here in the middle of the night, we’d be screwed. Also, I think we should start looking for antibiotics.”
“Is the leg bothering you?”
“Yeah.”
“How bad?”
“If I had to outrun an eighty-year-old in a wheelchair, I’d be in trouble.”
“Maybe we need a saw.”
“A saw?”
“In case we have to chop it off.”
Luke glanced back at Boyd, who was grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“You come near me with a saw and I’ll remove one of your appendages,” Luke said.
“I’d give up a hand. You know, so I don’t have to wash dishes anymore. The wife’s always getting on me about how I do the dishes. They’re not clean enough,” he said in a high-pitched tone. “There’s stuff stuck to the plate.”
“I’d be on your ass about it too if there was crap on the plate.”
“Ninny.”
Luke shook his head and smiled.
“When we get to the next manhole, let’s push it up and take a peek,” Boyd said. “If we need to find antibiotics, it would be better to search while there’s still some daylight. Flashlights at night are a dead giveaway.”
“Good point.”
“I’m not just a pretty face,” Boyd said. “Hopefully we’ll be able to find a pharmacy.”
“I doubt there are any that haven’t been ransacked.”
“Worst case scenario, we look for a pet store.”
“A pet store? Why?”
“Fish antibiotics. We had a betta fish for a few years. Mr. Snuggles.”
“Seriously?”
“I didn’t name him. I let my daughter Molly pick it. Anyway, one day the poor guy wasn’t looking so hot so I went to the pet store. They had a bunch of antibiotics. Penicillin, tetracycline, erythromycin, sulfa. I couldn’t believe it. If we can find some, we could try that.”
“Do you think it’s safe?” Luke asked.
“I sure as hell wouldn’t try it in normal circumstances, but we’re not in a normal situation. Sure, I’d love to be able to walk into a doctor’s office and get the real deal, but that won’t be happening any time soon.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never heard of this before.”
“Hopefully we won�
�t have to resort to that,” Boyd said. “Let’s get out of this damn tunnel and go look for a pharmacy.”
Luke pointed the flashlight into the dark tunnel. He continued walking until he reached a series of metal rungs in the wall. After confirming they led to a manhole, he handed the flashlight to Boyd.
“I’ll go up first. Keep the light on the cover. Get ready to turn it off as soon as I get the thing open.”
“Roger.”
Luke’s leg burned as he climbed to the top. As he steadied himself with one hand, he used the other to push up on the manhole. It didn’t budge.
“You want me to come up?” Boyd asked.
“Give me another minute.”
Luke leaned forward and climbed two more steps. With his shoulder pressed up against the manhole, he used his good leg as leverage to force the cover up a fraction of an inch.
“You got it,” Boyd called. “Keep pushing.”
As he heaved with all of his strength, the manhole ripped free of whatever had been holding it in place. A cascade of dirt and grime tumbled down the hole.
“Fuck. Right in the eye,” Boyd yelled.
“Shh!”
“Easy for you to say. You don’t have slime in your fucking eye.”
“Wash it out while I look around.”
Luke pushed the manhole off to one side. He poked his head up like a gopher. From the middle of an intersection, he spotted houses on one side and a strip mall on the other. Not bad. Maybe they could find a pharmacy here.
After scanning for threats, Luke pulled himself up out of the hole.
“It’s clear. Let’s move before someone sees us.”
“Coming.”
When Boyd reached the surface, Luke stifled a laugh. Muck from around the manhole dribbled down his cheeks. Unidentifiable debris littered his hair, and a shriveled candy wrapper clung to the top of his head.
“What?” Boyd demanded.
“You look like a dumpster-diving raccoon.”
“Asshole.” Boyd flailed his hands across his face and hair, trying to push the rest of the gunk off.
“It’s gone. Let’s check out the shopping center.”
“Why’s it so quiet here?” Boyd asked.