features. She wears pastel scrubs with embroidered cartoon dogs dancing around the name of the business. One foot sits bare of a shoe, the delicate, high-gloss mauve toenails reflect the light from our flashlights. I guess that answers as to why one shoe was left by the door.
“Is she…” Genny trails off her thought, letting her voice carry the question when her words cannot.
“She’s dead.” I tell her, exhaling the breath I was not aware of holding.
“They all look dead.” She tells me this as if I have not been with her this whole time, watching and learning right along with her.
“She’s dead.” I tell her again. A little more firmly this time, praying she won’t push the matter.
“How-” She starts and I sigh, letting the beam of my flashlight travel the length of the wall behind the woman. The new red layer of dried paint tells the truth of what has happened in the back of this supply closet. There are a thousand reasons why someone would take this way out. I only have one reason to keep going.
“Let’s go. I don’t want to leave Ginjer alone too long.” With our bags loaded, and with food now for at least another month, we make our way past the woman to the exit.
“Go on,” I tell Genny, waiting until she is out of sight to kneel down and pry the revolver from the woman’s hand. Her fingers are stiff and the snapping sounds make me gag with each pop of her knuckles. If you had asked me three months ago if I could ever picture myself surviving the end of the world, I would have laughed at the thought. Right now after stealing a gun from a corpse’s hand and toting bags of dog food, this shit isn’t so funny.
The sunlight blinds me for a moment when I exit the building. The smell of death and decay follows me like a cloud to the car where they are packing the bags already. Genny is still coughing as she tries to fight back the nausea, and when our eyes meet, all I have to offer her is a pat on the shoulder and another layer of guilt to my soul.
“I think I saw one of those quickie mart pharmacy things on our way here. We should stop in.” Ginjer smiles as if this is a “girl’s day out” and she is adding another shopping detour to our plans.
“No, we got what we came for. We should go back before our luck runs out.” I hold the same tone I use when Genny is asking for the moon and she knows it’s not possible. I hope that the same subtle message will work for Ginjer.
“There is no one for miles. We’ll be fine. You’re just being paranoid, again.” She actually smiles and winks at me. My grandmother used to have a saying for women like her, “Bless her heart because her minds done gone.”
“Ginjer, we are not going to risk it. One trip a day. It has always been the rule.” I settle into the seat of the car leaving no room for debate, but I didn’t anticipate who would join in on the argument.
“Mom, let’s just check it out. I could use a few things, too.” I would have left Ginjer on the side of the road before giving in to her demands, but the fragile voice of my daughter throws all of the rules right out the window.
She sits in the back seat, hugging herself, staring at her feet intently as if they have suddenly become very interesting. Another layer of guilt and another rule broken, but what can I do?
“Alright,” I sigh. “Alright, but in and out. No lingering.” At least I will try to pretend to hold on to the illusion that I am still in charge.
Chapter 6
T he store Ginjer had spotted was once a mom-and-pop deal that supplied the basics of prescriptions, the basics of needs and the basics of accessories. Basically, the basics of hopes for nice retirement checks and maybe a family legacy. I don’t suppose either of those really matter anymore.
The store lot is covered with the litter of past lootings. It swirls with the leaves in the wind when the fall weather blows across the asphalt. There are no other cars parked near the store. There is no
“Is she…” Genny trails off her thought, letting her voice carry the question when her words cannot.
“She’s dead.” I tell her, exhaling the breath I was not aware of holding.
“They all look dead.” She tells me this as if I have not been with her this whole time, watching and learning right along with her.
“She’s dead.” I tell her again. A little more firmly this time, praying she won’t push the matter.
“How-” She starts and I sigh, letting the beam of my flashlight travel the length of the wall behind the woman. The new red layer of dried paint tells the truth of what has happened in the back of this supply closet. There are a thousand reasons why someone would take this way out. I only have one reason to keep going.
“Let’s go. I don’t want to leave Ginjer alone too long.” With our bags loaded, and with food now for at least another month, we make our way past the woman to the exit.
“Go on,” I tell Genny, waiting until she is out of sight to kneel down and pry the revolver from the woman’s hand. Her fingers are stiff and the snapping sounds make me gag with each pop of her knuckles. If you had asked me three months ago if I could ever picture myself surviving the end of the world, I would have laughed at the thought. Right now after stealing a gun from a corpse’s hand and toting bags of dog food, this shit isn’t so funny.
The sunlight blinds me for a moment when I exit the building. The smell of death and decay follows me like a cloud to the car where they are packing the bags already. Genny is still coughing as she tries to fight back the nausea, and when our eyes meet, all I have to offer her is a pat on the shoulder and another layer of guilt to my soul.
“I think I saw one of those quickie mart pharmacy things on our way here. We should stop in.” Ginjer smiles as if this is a “girl’s day out” and she is adding another shopping detour to our plans.
“No, we got what we came for. We should go back before our luck runs out.” I hold the same tone I use when Genny is asking for the moon and she knows it’s not possible. I hope that the same subtle message will work for Ginjer.
“There is no one for miles. We’ll be fine. You’re just being paranoid, again.” She actually smiles and winks at me. My grandmother used to have a saying for women like her, “Bless her heart because her minds done gone.”
“Ginjer, we are not going to risk it. One trip a day. It has always been the rule.” I settle into the seat of the car leaving no room for debate, but I didn’t anticipate who would join in on the argument.
“Mom, let’s just check it out. I could use a few things, too.” I would have left Ginjer on the side of the road before giving in to her demands, but the fragile voice of my daughter throws all of the rules right out the window.
She sits in the back seat, hugging herself, staring at her feet intently as if they have suddenly become very interesting. Another layer of guilt and another rule broken, but what can I do?
“Alright,” I sigh. “Alright, but in and out. No lingering.” At least I will try to pretend to hold on to the illusion that I am still in charge.
Chapter 6
T he store Ginjer had spotted was once a mom-and-pop deal that supplied the basics of prescriptions, the basics of needs and the basics of accessories. Basically, the basics of hopes for nice retirement checks and maybe a family legacy. I don’t suppose either of those really matter anymore.
The store lot is covered with the litter of past lootings. It swirls with the leaves in the wind when the fall weather blows across the asphalt. There are no other cars parked near the store. There is no
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