Page 7 of Purgatory
“Anything is better than nothing.”
I grab my pack, open it and wander the dilapidated stacks, throwing what little I can find in it as I do. I don’t even try to wander in the produce, frozen, deli or meat departments. It’s not worth the disappointment. Lack of electricity or anyone to turn on a generator means spoiled and rotten food. I can smell it from here. Turning down the fourth aisle in pantry and shelf stable goods, I sigh at the limited selection. I kind of figured with the broken in doorwaythat this place had already been ransacked, but I was also sort of hoping, just a little bit, that they might have left a little something for me. But no one gets what they need by simply hoping for it, and it’s proven once again as I find no ready to eat meals left. Even the little tuna packets with the crackers are gone and who, in their right mind, actually likes those? The only people that I’ve ever seen eat them are those who are on a diet and have to convince themselves that they taste amazing just to swallow the yuckiness down. But who am I kidding? At this point I’d eat them and thank my lucky stars for the opportunity. After perusing what’s left, I end up finding only a few cans of beans, a couple bags of chips, or rather bags of crumbs with maybe 5 whole chips in them at this point, and...
“OH. MY. GOD...”
It's like a chorus of angels singing “Hallelujah” in the background of aisle eight with a big, bright, magnificent light directing me toward them. I send a silent prayer of thanks to The Big Guy and every other deity I might have missed. Someone up there loves me and deserves recognition because this is heaven sent. Shit, I never sent them when I was able to before, but this deserves a thank you letter. Special stationary, wax seal, the works.
“FUCKING MARSHMALLOWS!”
I do a victory dance right there. Snatching every single bag on the shelf, I shove them into my backpack until there is no more room left, leaving one for me to carry by hand and devour on the trip home. No room to judge, remember?
“Score! Those land pirates can keep their ramen, I don’t need it when I have these treasures.”
With my bag filled to the brim, soft, squishy goodness in my mouth, and a smile on my face, I tell myself that I’ve done a good job for now and it’s time to start walking back. I turn on my heel and head out, content with my haul and ready to finishexploring my new home away from home.
Chapter 6
Cole
“Heads up, Harley’s back.”
We see her strutting, yesstruttinglike John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, out of the store and grinning like the cat who got the canary. She’s singing a new song, also.
I swear, does this girl know what’s going on right now? It’s like she doesn’t see all of the jacked-up shit around us. I’m at a loss for words. I’ve seen a lot over my years in the military. Too much. But it still doesn’t numb me to what the world is nowadays.
Hawk gets like this sometimes, with his dark humor, sarcasm and jester tendencies, but it always has its time and place. He pulls himself together when the shit hits the fan. She, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. I envy her.
Hawk is living up to his namesake and eyeing her like she’s his next meal. I get it, she’s pretty and a welcome distraction to the usual daily programming. Not to mention, she’s the first person we’ve seen here in a few weeks. A handful of people ran through here a while back but didn’t stick around when they saw the state of the town- obviously picked over and lacking in any sort of lasting stability. We made sure to not draw attention to ourselves during their pit stop. We don’t need potential leeches and that’s exactly what Jax refers to newcomers as. In his eyes, supplies are limited as it is. Bringing in new people to the estate only asks for problems.
“She seems to be ok for the time being. Let’s start to head back.” I thumb over my shoulder and jerk my head back to the direction of the compound. “It’s going to get dark soon.”
“What? We can’t leave her, man. She’s all alone, what if something happens.” Well, his tune seemed to fucking flip to overly enthusiastic. Catch feelings already, did ya?
“Nothing’s going to happen. Besides, look how happy she looks with her... what the fuck are those? Marshmallows?” I shake my head. Not exactly the healthiest or most nutrient rich food, but whatever makes her happy, I guess. I roll my eyes and continue. “Look. I’m sure she’ll be fine. We can check on her in a few days if you’re that worried.”
He points in her direction as she leaves. “Fuck that man, I can’t just let her stay out here by herself. You saw her, same as I did, back at that house.” He looks at me and then back in her fleeing direction. Desperation leaking into his tone. “She wasn’t ok. Youknowshe won’t be ‘fine.’”He put his fingers up to do air quotes, rolling his eyes because he caught me lying through my teeth.“So stop kidding yourself. We can help her. This is what we do and you know it. Weneedto help her.”
I shake my head. “You know Jax won’t go for that. Youknowhow he is with new people. She’ll take one step on that property and he’ll frog march her ass right back out and slam the gate on her.”
He pushes me away from him, pointing his finger at me. “Fucking bullshit, and you know it. How can you just turn your head away from her?”
“I’m not, I want to help her just as much as you, but I'm also a realist and I know how he’s going to react if we just show up at the door with a random person. It’s not our place, man. We, at least, need to bring it up to him... maybe convince him to take her in. Give it a few days, maybe he’ll warm up to the idea easier.”
Defeated, he sighs, fisting his hands and slumping his shoulders. “Fucking fine, let’s go. We’re heading back the same way so we can, at least, make sure she gets back to the house safely.”
The blocks back to her street pass quickly at first but eventually slow to a snail’s pace. At this point I’m aggravated at our slow march but that’s probably just because of the heat and general exhaustion from the day. I look up at our Harley wannabe and realize she must be feeling it too. The past few minutes I’ve noticed her start zig zagging down the road.
“Can you tell if she’s singing again? She’s walking like she’s drunk.” Hawk questions. I see what he’s referring to. At least when she was singing and dancing earlier, she had some sort of purpose to her movements. At the moment, she seems unbalanced, staggering even, just like, well, like a drunk person. But I know there’s no alcohol in that supermarket. Believe me, we’ve looked. It could be dizziness, but that still isn’t good considering her state just a little bit ago was perfectly normal.
“Nah, man, if my gut is right, you were right to keep an eye on her.”
Having experience as a medic, especially in the Middle East, or really anywhere the temperature reaches high enough, you see things like this. Heat exhaustion, heat stroke, it’s all too common and potentially deadly if you’re not prepared. Unfortunately, the symptoms are eerily similar to that of the zombie plague currently wiping out every trace of human existence. I really hope it’s not the case but seeing her general incoordination and lack of cognition at the moment, I can’t completely rule it out until I get right up next to her, which these days is a risk in and of itself.
I start to watch her more closely. She keeps on shaking her head, like she’s trying to fix her vision. It’s pushing 105 degrees today, the humidity absolutely brutal and shejust sucked down an entire bag of sugar without drinking anything. At least not that I saw. Did she really forget to look for water?
She turns to go into the front yard, swaying on wobbly knees, barely making it to the front porch. And down she goes. Like a tree falling down in the woods.Timber!
“Fuck, let’s go,” I sigh.
