Radioactive and The Decay Dystopian Super Boxset- A Dirty Bomb and Nuclear Blast Prepper Tale of Survival (43 page)

They approached the entrance to the store and noticed that the doors had been pried open. There was a large enough space on both sides for them to squeeze through.

“You got your flashlight?” David asked Carlie.

“Always do,” she said holding a yellow plastic flashlight in the air.

David fit himself between the gap in the door and its frame. He pushed hard as the door slowly shifted open. David looked to Paul.

“Last time we came here, there was a cage blocking the entrance, but it looks like the locals got rid of that.”

They squeezed their way through the entrance door into the murkiness of the store. Once inside, Carlie flicked on her flashlight. As the group followed her, she panned the light across empty aisles, collapsed display cases, and pieces of shattered glass across the ground.

“I knew it,” David said. “I knew Walgreens was going to be a bust. We may have to go all the way to the damn hospital.”

“Margie said to stay as far away as possible from the city,” Paul said.

“We know that, Paul, but how do you think we found you?” Rob asked.

“Fair enough,” Paul responded.

“We should find the pharmacy aisle,” David said. Their eyes had adjusted a little better to the dark so they walked past each aisle until they could see one that resembled a medicine aisle. Carlie stopped in front of aisle seven.

“I think I found something.”

She shined her flashlight down the aisle and saw toothpaste, vitamins, and bottles of aspirin.

“I think we just hit the jackpot,” she said.

“Shine your flashlight in the corner over there,” David directed.

Carlie moved the light over to find a full pharmacy booth.

“This might just be our lucky day,” David said.

“It’s amazing that no one has cleared all this stuff out yet,” Paul added.

“That’s fully what we intend to do,” David responded with a smile.

Outside the Walgreens, another group approached. The Seventh Order men walked on foot into the parking lot, curious to find a bright red F250 parked near the store. Walter directed his group to surround the truck. They moved tactfully and with stealth. The doors were locked. Walter placed his hand over the hood and felt its surface.

“It’s hot,” he said looking up. “We got company, boys. Move with caution.”

The men mumbled in agreement and walked in a wedge formation toward the Walgreen entrance. Walter tried all four doors on the F250, but they were locked. He stuck his face to the windows and looked inside. There was nothing inside, so Walter caught up with the group.

“Hold on now,” he said, waving his hands in the air. “We can’t just go barging in there. We don’t know how many people they have, if they’re armed, and what their business is.”

Terry, the blond surfer, looked back at the truck then to Walter.

“Well, they probably fit about six in the front cab and just the same in the back. Either way, if we take them by surprise, we have nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t assume that everything is going to be that easy,” Walter said. “We go in there carefully and get what we need. Medicine and sanitation supplies, stuff like that.”

Walter looked at the group. “Harold, you take the lead.”

Harold was a good shot and had a great eye from his experience as a hunter. They waited patiently with their rifles in the air as Harold peaked in. He signaled that the coast was clear. Each man squeezed through the opened door. Once inside, they took a moment to let their eyes adjust to the darkness.

“Keep quiet and alert,” Walter instructed with a whisper.

The group had their rifles aimed and ready to fire like a tactical SWAT team, without the fancy gear. They had been making rounds for some time once Sister Bonnie banned vehicles at the commune.

Back then, an old friend of Walter’s questioned him about her decision, even getting in Walter’s face, demanding that he retract his association with the Seventh Order.

“You ever think that maybe she wants us to get rid of our cars so that we’re trapped here? Things are out of control, or maybe that’s the idea. It’s all under
her
control. That’s how she wants it.”

“Just stop. You’re overreacting. Sister Bonnie is a reasonable woman. Everything she’s talked about has come true. We have to trust her,” Walter told his friend.

“My days of trusting that fat bitch are over with. She’s a basket case. If you can’t see that, then your mind is as fucked as everyone else around here.”

His words enraged Walter, and while the personal attacks were bothersome, it was his words used against Sister Bonnie that sent Walter over the edge. He punched his friend directly in the face, sending him to the ground in a disoriented heap. As Walter massaged his sore knuckles, the man looked up with blood running from his nose.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he said. Walter balled his fist, ready to strike again as the man squirmed away with his back sliding against the ground. He lifted himself up and looked at Walter in shock and rage.

“You really have lost your mind, you stupid son of a bitch.” He wiped the blood trickling below his nose.

“I’m leaving this shithole. You can have it.”

Walter said nothing. The man stormed off, and they never saw each other again.

Walter had been loyal to people through most of his life. He always supported his wife, never cheated on her, and even remained her friend after she wanted a divorce. Though it destroyed him inside, he never showed it. He was just as loyal to his friends and family, but ever since he joined the Seventh Order, he had drawn a line in the sand at which no one measured up to. It was at that point that his loyalty went completely to Sister Bonnie, baffling as it was. He was an original convert from Sister Bonnie’s husband, Phil, and swore to him that he would support the dying pastor's wife to the very end. So far, he had made good on that promise.

Old Scarface Harold took notice of the movement on the other side of the store. A flashlight waved through the air, and he could hear footsteps nearby. The Seventh Order group remained undetected, and at the moment, had the upper hand. Terry flashed hand signals to the group as they shifted carefully in a tactical pattern. Walter was behind the men and kept his eye on the door behind them, seeing if anyone drew near. Their pace quickened, and they were only a few feet away from the medicine aisle. They heard voices and the sound of rustling through shelves. Harold halted the group then signaled for them to break off and meet at both sides of the aisle.

“Pack as much as you can,” David said.

Ryan, Rob, and Paul stuffed their packs with aspirin bottles, Band-Aids, cold and flu medicine, hand soap, and instant powder relief. Carlie held the flashlight, shinning a light on the shelves.

“We’re going to need to check behind the pharmacy counter for antibiotics too,” she said.

“We’ll take it from here,” Walter’s voice said from behind them.

Immediately, flashlights from both sides beamed onto Paul’s group, taking them by surprise. David jerked his rifle up from its slung position on his shoulder and aimed it into the air.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Walter continued. “Everyone stop what you’re doing and place your weapons on the ground.”

David, Rob, Carlie, and Ryan looked around frantically. They looked to Paul and noticed that he had his arms in the air.

“Let’s do what they say,” he said.

“What do you want?” David asked the men.

“We want the same thing you want. Guess it’s just bad timing on both our parts,” Walter said.

“Let us get out of here and we’ll be out of your way,” David said.

“That’s the plan, but first I’m going to need you to lay your weapons down and empty your packs on the ground.”

No one moved.

“We don’t have anything in our packs,” David said. “The shelves were cleaned out when we got here.”

Walter laughed.

“Nice try. You’re a smart bunch. And I’m sure you’re smart enough to know that the only way you’re getting out of here is to dump out your packs.”

“What is this bullshit?” Carlie scowled. “Why don’t you assholes just leave us alone? We got here first, fair and square.”

Paul tried a more diplomatic approach, even though he knew that it had greatly failed him in the past.

“Look. I’m sure we all came here for certain things. Why don’t we divide the supplies evenly and call it a day?”

“That’s very noble of you,” Walter said while approaching them. “Dump everything out first, then we’ll see.”

“Fuck you,” Carlie said.

“Carlie,” Paul said. “Let’s do this safe.”

“He’s right. No need for this to get out of control,” Ryan said nervously. As a council member, he had rarely ventured out, and was unprepared for the incident.

“No, this is bullshit,” Rob interjected. “It’s our find. If they want to try to take it, let ‘em.”

“Rob, we need to be on the same page here,” Paul said.

“No offense, Paul, but fuck you. I didn’t come out here to be held up by some hillbilly locals.”

“Is everyone done?” Walter asked. His red beard moved when he talked. “For the record, not all of us are hillbillies. We do have Harold and Joey though, and they’re both one heck of a shot, so I wouldn’t stall any longer.”

Paul was the first to place his shotgun on the ground. The rest of the group reluctantly followed.

“That’s good. Now the packs,” Walter said.

A collective sigh of frustration came from the group. Rob, Carlie, and Ryan looked from Paul to David.

“No one try to be a hero,” David said with a remorseful tone.

The group took their backpacks and spilled the contents of their hunt on the ground in a pile of medicine bottles and antibacterial cleaner. Walter’s eyes lit up as he approached them closer. The rest of Walter’s group took his lead and moved in, circling Paul and the others. Paul could see Walter as he squinted into the light of their flashlights.

“We have a jackpot here, boys,” Walter said.

“We’ll take half and you can have the other half,” Paul said, as if reminding them.

“I don’t think it’s enough,” Walter said. “I mean, it’s plenty for one group, but I don’t see how we could possibly divide it up.”

Carlie threw her hands up in the air.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she said.

“We had a deal,” Paul said.

Walter was inches from him with rifle in hand.

“I don’t remember agreeing to anything, but this is what we’ll do. Your people can leave everything here and walk out of the store. By the time we’re done, we’ll leave, then you can come back, get your weapons, and anything we leave behind. Sound reasonable enough?”

“How can we trust a damn thing you say?” Rob asked defiantly.

“Doesn’t seem you have much of a choice,” Walter answered with a smirk from under his beard.

Paul looked closer and recognized Walter. “Hey, I know you,” Paul said. Walter seemed oblivious, but his expression changed as he took a closer look himself. “You’re from that camp by the church. We’re from New Haven,” Paul continued.

Walter’s expression changed to a friendlier disposition. “You don’t say?” he asked.

“You remember the Sheriff, right? We’re with him. I rode in the back of the truck to your camp,” Paul said.

“I was there too. You came to our gates, we took you in, fed you, and gave you supplies,” David said.

Walter looked embarrassed. He glanced down on the ground then up to Paul. “What an unfortunate coincidence. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Paul said. “I guess we just have a misunderstanding here, that’s all.”

“So these are the fucking cult people?” Rob asked. “After all we did for them?”

Paul raised his hand up to silence Rob. “We don’t want any trouble. We’ll get our stuff and go.”

“I am truly very sorry,” Walter said.

“I said it’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” Paul continued.

“I’m sorry because now it’s clear to me that we can’t let you leave after all.”