The Storm (24 page)

              The corner was ahead. Miller froze and got on his knees. He very slowly peeked around it and sat there motionless for the better part of a minute, gazing upon the front of the LeapMart. We all glanced at each other, but everyone knew to stay quiet, and we didn’t say a thing. Finally he raised his right arm, showing his tattoos, and he motioned us forward. He stood up and looked back and spoke, “Looks clear. Let’s go get this done fast.”

              Fear was in the air again. None of us were used to running around armed and ready for a shootout. None of us were used to sneaking around at sunrise to avoid detection. None of us had ever contemplated anything like this before, except maybe Randy in one of his video games. We stayed in formation, each turning around the corner and looking out across the vast parking lot as though we sought an enemy. We had started by being disciplined and keeping a good distance between teams. As we neared the front entrance to the store, we were almost in a tight line like a group coming for Black Friday. Hardly what we had agreed upon before, but safety in numbers compelled us to stay close to each other.

              We arrived at the front and not seeing anything out of place but not believing we were alone either, we maintained our guarded state of mind. Miller poked his head around the broken glass of the entrance. As he did so, I gazed outward at the mass of the lot. I was here just days ago with that craziness of a mob. I guess I gave humanity too much credit always. If people could go crazy that quickly, then we weren’t as evolved as I had always believed. I saw a spot in the sixth row, about twenty spaces deep. Right across from a cart-collecting station. Stacy and I usually made a point of parking there so that it was easy to dump our cart and get out. It wasn’t long ago that Tabitha was making a big stink about wanting to see the lobsters while we were here. Would I ever see a lobster again?

              Miller gazed inside, up and down, left and right. He finally raised his right arm again, and we moved forward. I noticed Randy had pulled a handgun from his waist and was holding it. The other wasn’t in his waist anymore, but I didn’t see it either. Tom gave out a cough, and we all shuddered. Any noise now could betray us. I closed my eyes as soon as I heard it and prayed for a half second. When I opened them, I was still alive and nothing had changed.

              We advanced, in two-person teams, into the store. Right away, we noticed there was not only no sign of current life, but all we saw was a scene of devastation. If I asked my kids to throw their toys and destroy the den as best they could, they wouldn’t come close to this. Everywhere there was debris of products or remnants of store merchandise. The smell hit me immediately and I fell to my knees. Before I had even advanced twenty feet, I threw up and saw I wasn’t alone.

              Not sure if it was my vomiting that caused others to follow, or if the smell provoked them the same way, but I was heaving near the entrance while Mohammad and Randy followed suit. The smell of old milk, fermented soda, and moldy everything overpowered whatever sense of will I had. My nose and palate were used to fresh ingredients. Any whiff of abnormality would normally send my head into a whirl. This was like a tornado had taken it and spun it at hundreds of miles an hour.

              I hadn’t thrown up in almost twenty-five years before this week. The last distant time I had heaved before the storm was on a bus when I was a child in grade school. I had seen a large booger coming out of the nose of a friend, Derrick Lakes, and I impulsively just threw up on his brand new sweatpants. He was so proud of them too. He went to the back of the school bus with his younger brother, who, having smelled the vomit, became sick himself and also threw up on his new sweatpants. I always regretted doing that, but it was also my last claim to fame with vomiting. I guess I had to make a new notch for today and this week.

              Thirst finally screamed out for my attention, and I reached down for my bottle of water and promptly took a sip. Gradually rising to my feet, I took a few more sips as I reacquainted myself with the world around me. LeapMart was a disaster zone. If the first battle of a war had broken out when I was here last, it had turned into a slug fest like World War 1, and the landscape was accordingly scarred. I couldn’t believe what I saw as I finally looked deep into the store. It was still a touch dark, but every minute brought fresh light into the giant box. The shelves were empty and half pushed over. Parts of the ceiling were riddled with bullet holes, and the orange sky revealed itself as a mosaic presented by the machine gun. Even what I had seen falling apart was like prehistory compared to now.

              We passed the cash registers and looked over at the fresh section. Nothing remained, except scattered pieces of onions and other veggies that were now turning black. All in all, it wasn’t much. Miller asked Randy and Tom to search that area for anything fresh remaining. I thought about telling him that without refrigeration, fresh is an oxymoron. Still, maybe there would be bread or nuts or something we could use. I was tired now and suddenly felt it. If I could find coffee grounds, I just might take a handful as a snack.

              Miller motioned us over toward him, which wasn’t far. I glanced at Mohammad, who looked like he might pass out at any moment and gave a nod to move forward. Miller then opened up, “Hey, guys. I don’t know anything about growing food. That’s on you. I’m going to go check the bulk supplies with Nana. Stay frosty . . . I’ve been in similar situations. Just when you think it’s all safe and the coast is clear is when they jump you . . . and you don’t have a prayer. Just be aware, go down that way,” pointing down the long hall toward the other end which housed the landscaping supplies. “Go get what we came for. Let’s meet back here in ten minutes.”

              I looked at Mohammad, but he was staring off into space. “Hey, man. You all right?” I asked him forthrightly.

              A brief pause ensued and he looked at me. “Just a headache and tight muscles. I’m ready, Josh. I want to get home. Please, Allah, let us be fast.” With that, he started walking toward our assigned end. I couldn’t help going with him. I glanced to my left and right and saw Tom already tearing apart some counter space to look underneath for any food. Miller and Nana were walking perpendicular to us and going after any boxed food that might remain. Mohammad and I pressed on. Women’s shoes to our right and electronics to our left. Amazingly, despite the total loss of electricity, people had still flooded in and taken what high definition televisions they could find. As I looked right, I noticed that only the ugly shoes were remaining. Stacy would yell at me if I presumed to tell her anything about women’s fashion, but I at least knew which women’s shoes were sexy, and they were all gone.

              We passed a section filled with children’s toys, and amazingly, most were still there. I saw some dinosaurs and trains that were electric-powered. They wouldn’t do me any good now, but maybe I could pick up something for Paul and Tabitha. I glanced at a couple of puzzles. Some looked advanced enough that they might even entertain me and Stacy. There were other board games too, which were designed for two players. I picked up one on naval ships and another where mystical elf armies battle mystical knight armies.
At least this could entertain Stacy
, I hoped.

              My left arm held the two board games, and my right carried my rifle as we arrived at the section around lawn and garden. We walked through broken glass doors to an outside area surrounded by a cage. It usually housed everything a person could need for the outdoors, but now it was a disaster zone. Random scraps of mulch covered the floor, while shrubs were either missing or turned upside down across the rows. What we had suspected was true; almost anything of value was toast.

              Clenching my rifle, I walked down the first row to my right. It was all large wooden prefabricated objects that could fill a garden. Cheap decorations from China, maybe now they would rot like the garbage they were. I reached one end and did a 180-degree turn. Mohammad had taken the liberty of the moment to sit on an upside-down pot, with his rifle in front of him with the butt in the ground. He looked in pain as he braced his head against its barrel while looking down at his feet. I thought I should be fast for him, and we could keep moving.

              The first row had nothing of value other than shopping carts and two small shovels that we duly tossed into a cart and took with us. I moved on to the second row and was impressed right away with what I found. Bag upon bag stacked vertically of high quality fertilizer mixed with top soil.
This may be necessary for us indeed
, I thought. The rest of the second row was filled with stones that would fill out a backyard or make the perfect hard deck. Finally I approached the third row. The first section was worthless as well, fountains mixed with bird baths.

              A brief moment of despair enveloped me that we had come all this way for nothing, but then I stumbled upon a jackpot. An entire section of small plastic bags housing seeds for all manners of crops or veggies was present. A giant smile formed on my face as I looked low and saw things like edamame and then up to come across okra and corn. Now wasn’t the time to be picky. I gestured Mohammad to me. “Jackpot, buddy!” I said, and I gave him a high five.

              Mohammad was a bit slow to grasp but then saw the seeds and everything else and tried to smile. It wasn’t much of a smile. His face was still clenched, but he gave a big nod. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with him exactly, but we would figure it out back at home. I spoke again, “Go get everyone. We need to load this up and get moving fast. It’s daylight, and our element of surprise is pretty much over.”

              He took off walking at as quick a pace as his injured body would allow back toward the inner hall and made some vocal noises that sounded like “hey!” I grabbed two shopping carts and started loading them with bags of seed and fertilizer. Samantha had been right. The LeapMart had been cleaned out of fresh food as far as I could tell, but what we needed for the long term was here. Getting it home would be a problem. As I threw the first bag of fertilizer into the shopping cart, I noticed I could read its label clearly. Morning was here, and with it full daylight. Stealth was gone.

**********************************

              The first thing that hit me as we pushed our carts out the front door was the beautiful smell of fresh air. The inside of the LeapMart had become pungent, and I breathed deeply as my eyes squinted at the difference in light as we exited. The last time I had come out of here, I was running to my car and trying to get away at high speed. Today I felt the same urge and could sense danger close, but running with carts full of supplies through the woods didn’t seem feasible.

              My cart was filled with bags of premium potting soil and a duffle bag on top stuffed with the various bags of seeds we had found. Mohammad had several tools in his cart. Most were small handheld shovels and clippers but also pick axes and other pieces of equipment that he assured me were useful, but I had no knowledge of what they did. Randy and Tom had filled one shopping cart to the brim with premium bottles of liquor that they’d found in a locked cabinet by the customer service section. Miller and Nana each had a cart that in turn was filled with more potting soil and a few bags of potatoes that had somehow escaped the looting.

              As we all stood around our carts, there was a noticeable tension in the air. I was about to ask how we were going to lug all this through the woods when Miller opened up. “We can’t go back the way we came. There’s just too much stuff. We need all of this junk too.” He spat a big phlegm wad on the ground and then looked out ahead at Plantation. “Guess we are gonna have to bite the bullet on this one, guys.”

              I glanced at Nana, but he was just staring at the ground. Mohammad was gazing off into space and Randy’s face displayed a queer smile as though he relished the idea of going into danger. I wanted to speak, to say something supportive, but no words came. The silence became awkward after a moment and finally a popping sound shattered it. With a brief flutter of my heart, I turned around and saw Tom holding up a bottle of champagne with bubbly liquid foaming forth from the top. He took a big swig and exclaimed, “Well, shit, guys. It’s noon somewhere, right? I’m sure as hell not walking down that road sober.”

              His arm extended the bottle out for others to take a sip, and for a brief moment, I thought about it. Randy took a long gulp and the thought of drinking anything after him quickly made up my mind about the drink offer. Sober I would be, for better or worse. At least I would have my wits about me, for all the good that will do if bullets fly.

              “Way I see it, guys,” Miller started in again, “is that we need to move fast and push through as quickly as possible. Yes they’ve been killing isolated refugees, but we will be walking with our guns on full display so they will know we aren’t a soft target like they are used to going after. With a little luck, they may still be asleep and not even see us. If they do, hopefully they decide we aren’t worth the headache, and we pass through. We need to stay in our two-man teams, but keep a couple hundred feet in between each team. The space will keep us from all getting killed in an ambush and help deter them.”

              I hadn’t thought much of Miller previously, to me he’d been a paroled thug who was destined to go back in the slammer, but at least his experience with conflict over the years was proving invaluable today. I read books on army movements, but they rarely gave any indication of small-unit tactics. I hated the idea of going down Plantation Road, but at least this seemed like a plan I could buy into. After a moment of reflection, I had nothing better to offer up and we all agreed.