“Pretty good, mom.”
“Almost finished!”
Dianne nodded approvingly. “Mark, let’s help them get the rest of these into the basement and then we’ll get a bite of lunch. After that I want to start bringing the aquaponics supplies up into the house and get some more firewood cut.”
“What about the Carsons?” Mark picked up a few bags as he asked the question.
“What about them? I’m positive they weren’t at home when the fire happened.”
“Yeah, but shouldn’t we check on them? And go over to the Statler’s place and take care of their animals, too?”
Dianne sighed. “I don’t know, bud. I don’t really like the idea of going out unless we absolutely have to. I’ll think about it, though, okay?”
Mark nodded quietly and headed up to the house along with Jacob and Josie. Dianne stood next to the bags of vegetables for a minute, thinking quietly to herself. She realized that she was accepting their new situation far too easily and was bothered by that fact. It had been a full day since she had last checked to see if she could pick up anything on the radio or TV, she didn’t want to leave their home to check on the neighbors and had no idea what the general situation was out in the world.
“All right.” Dianne sighed as she talked to herself. “Enough of this nonsense. Things may be bad but we still need to see what’s going on and check on the neighbors. Maybe things in town have calmed down enough that we can talk to some people there and get updates on what’s going on.”
Chapter 11
Las Vegas, NV
It was just after two in the morning when Rick awoke. His heart was racing, he was dripping with sweat and he had the unshakeable feeling that there were other people in the building. He crawled on hands and knees over to the door and pulled it open a few inches, holding his ear up to the crack to listen. For a few seconds there was nothing and he was just about to close the door and go back to sleep when he heard the unmistakable sound of people talking to one another.
“What’d you find?”
“We’re at the lumberyard you dipshit. What do you think I found? Bunch of fuckin’ wood.”
“Hey man, I found wood too. Right here.”
“Nah man, that’s more like a twig!”
There was a chorus of raucous laughter and Rick slowly closed the door, cringing as the latch softly clicked back into place. While he had no idea who the people in the lumberyard were or what their intentions were, he had no desire to find out, either.
After glancing up to see no locks on the door, Rick glanced around the room, hoping to locate something he could use to block the door. As his gaze landed on the overturned vending machine he had a sudden flash of inspiration and hurried over to it. He got on the end opposite the entrance to the break room and began slowly pushing it towards the door. The plastic front scraped along the floor but didn’t make enough noise to cause him any worry.
After nearly a minute of slow, cautious pushing he had the vending machine jammed up against the door. There was still a small window on the door to contend with, but he noticed that the field of view from the door’s window was small enough that he could sit next to Jane and no one looking through the window would be able to see them.
The noise from the people walking around in the building grew louder as Rick collected up his gear and stashed it on the far side of the room next to Jane. The light was the last to go, and he turned it off as ran over to Jane. He double-checked his shotgun as he eased down next to her, making sure it was fully loaded before putting the back of his hand on her head. She was finally feeling cool and he sighed in relief. Thank goodness. He considered waking her but decided against it, and chose instead to trust that the people would choose to move on after trying the door.
“Hey!” The voice came from outside the break room and Rick felt his heartrate skyrocket. “What’s in here?”
“The break room, jackass.”
“No shit. I’m gonna see what they’re keeping in there.”
A few footsteps followed the proclamation. The door handle turned next, then came the sound of the door being shoved. It banged against the vending machine and Rick heard a muffled curse followed by a shout.
“Oy! This thing won’t open! Give me a hand!”
Oh shit. Rick’s eyes went wide and he flipped the shotgun over to check that it was fully loaded. Eight shells. His hunting rifle sat on the ground to his left and his pistol was to his right. Both were also loaded and ready to go.
“What’s your problem, asshole?”
“This door’s jammed. Gimme a hand.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get out of the way.”
There was a shuffle outside the door before someone threw his full weight against it. It smashed against the vending machine, moving the object no more than a millimeter in response.