This is from Derrick's Perspective.
The group of men who looked so much like Tome lingered for a moment around the fresh grave, their faces solemn. Then, as if on some unspoken signal, they turned and walked away. Tome glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "We'll be leaving soon," he said, his voice carrying a note of finality. I don't think he liked me.
What ever.
I was about to turn and follow the others when Rosalina's voice stopped me. She was still clinging to Maria, both of their eyes red and swollen from crying. "There's a list on the table," she said, her voice a raspy hoarse whisper. "It's the medications and supplies we need. Thank you for going."
I nodded in response, my mind already shifting gears. I headed back to the house to prepare.
First, I checked my guns, making sure they were clean and smooth. I didn't want trouble. That was the last thing that would be beneficial for everyone. But it would be better to have it and not need it than to need it and wish I had it.
Next, I grabbed a handful of coins from my stash and tucked them into my wallet. I filled a few bottles with water and packed them into my bag, along with some snacks.
Finally, I turned my attention to the trailers I'd used to get to Maria's place. I checked the tires and the make-shift handles I had attached to the hitch and made sure everything was in working order.
By the time Tome was walking up to the house, I was ready to get moving, waiting for him outside the door. I had my bag in the trailer, everything else hidden under clothing or in pockets.
I couldn't help but ask how everyone knew each other. It turns out they were all cousins of Tome. That made sense about the lookalikes.
The journey to the store was not very long one. It's a bit over 4 miles by my estimate. I towered over the rest of the group, my height making me stand out like a sore thumb. From a distance, we must have looked like a mother goose leading her goslings. I thought of sharing that observation, but felt like it might not land well.
The store Tome had chosen was located in a commercial area, away from the residential neighborhoods. It took us just over an hour to get there, our pace steady but unhurried. Well, I was casual, but the cousins had to hustle. The location was promising. The fact that it was a bit out of the way meant that it was less likely to have been completely picked over by looters.
The parking lot was desolate. Cars were scattered haphazardly; since the power outage happened at around 2am, there weren't a lot of people there. All the windows were damaged, at least the windows were destroyed. Some were nothing more than burnt-out husks, their frames charred and twisted.
Tome's cousins slowed their pace and were a few steps behind me. I turned around and saw their eyes wide as they took in the scene. They moved cautiously, their steps hesitant. I could see the tension in their bodies and the way they huddled closer together. I giggled, remembering where I had seen this before, taking me back to my days in the military. They looked like fresh boots, their first week out of basic training, still green and paranoid the good way.
Tome followed me the closest, only a few steps behind me. He seemed barely fazed. His face was set in a grim line, his eyes focused and looking around. If nothing else, he had guts. I smiled and started scanning around, looking for friendlies and what not.
As we neared the store, the building was damaged all over. The windows and doors were all broken out, their frames twisted and bent. Glass and metal debris were strewn about. There were a few dark spots as well. I wasn't about to explain what blood looked like after a day in the son to the skittish group.
As we approached the entrance of the store, a flicker of movement caught my eye. I raised my hand instinctively, signaling the group to stop. They huddled behind me, their eyes wide and alert, saying something in Spanish I couldn't catch.
From the shattered doors of the store, a group of people emerged. They were wearing police uniforms, badges glinting in the weak sunlight. Each of them carried bags filled with supplies, their faces hard and focused.
Tome's voice was a nervous whisper beside me. "What do we do?"
I kept my gaze fixed on the approaching officers, my mind racing. "Wait and see," I murmured back. "Don't flinch, comply, and don't fight." I had no intention of getting into a confrontation with the police. I'd faced down thugs and looters. Easily.
But not cops.
The shout of "Freeze" echoed across the empty parking lot, causing my heart to skip a beat. I forced the smirk off my face. One of the cops in the front row had spotted us. His hand was resting on his gun, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. For a split second, I considered my options, but then I raised my hands in surrender.
"What are you doing? Did you come back to finish picking through the store?" he barked, his voice echoing off the empty buildings around us. The other cops stopped and were shifting maliciously.
I raised an eyebrow at his accusation. "No sir," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "We're here to get the stuff we need." I looked at each of the cops in the group counting. It seemed we were slightly outnumbered.
The cop dropped his bags on the ground, his gaze never leaving mine. "Shut the fuck up!" he spat. "You just admitted you were planning to steal!" A couple others followed his example.
I kept my hands raised, my heart pounding in my chest. I had to keep my temper in check. This was still salvageable. "We were planning to pay cash in the drop box," I explained calmly. Shaking my head, I said. "Not stealing."
His reaction was immediate. His finger flicked the strap off his gun as he took bold steps towards me. "Stop lying!" he shouted, his face twisted in anger. "Your kind is the one that did this damage. You loot and burn things at the drop of a hat!" I noticed a few stepping forward as well, but most didn't move, murmuring something I couldn't hear.
I could feel my jaw clenching and my teeth grinding against each other. This fool was about to get himself killed, and I was going to send him to his god. The group behind him was going to be trouble but doable. But before I could do anything, an older man emerged from the group of cops. He moved with a sense of authority, his steps quick and purposeful.
"What are you doing?!" he barked at the younger cop, his voice echoing across the parking lot even louder than the young cop's. He placed a hand on the young cop's gun, pushing it back into its holster. "You are a representative of the law. Not a judge. Not an executioner. And we just stole ourselves. Get your shit together. Or I will."
The older cop turned away from me, shooting what I guess was a glare at the other cops. They visibly shrank back, their faces a mix of shame and embarrassment. It was clear who was in charge here.
He turned back to the young cop, his gaze stern. "Stand down," he ordered. "We will talk about this at home."
The young cop scowled, his face turning a deep shade of red. But he didn't argue. Instead, he re-clipped the strap on his gun, shot me one last glare, and walked back to where he had dropped his bag. The tension in the air slowly began to diffuse into the smoke.
The old man turned to me, his eyes softening. "Sorry about that, son," he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine regret. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a tattoo that mirrored my own. I slowly lowered my hands, my heart rate beginning to return to normal.
"Thank you for your service," he said, his gaze steady.
I nodded in response. "Thank you for calming things down. I really appreciate that, sir," my voice steady.
He nodded, a look of understanding passing between us. "I'll have a talk with him when we get home. Stay safe," he said before turning to rejoin the group of cops. "Let's get home," he called out to them, and they began to move, leaving us alone in the parking lot.
I watched them go, waiting until they were well out of range before turning to Tome. "Okay, we're ready to go," I said, my voice firm. "Everyone, focus on essentials. Hit up the toys aisle, RV, and hardware section for stuff that can have wheels so we can move more stuff. Then, focus on canned and dry goods. Meet up in front but away from the windows and doors. Check-in in an hour or so; I'll whistle when time is up."
The store was a mess, but there were still plenty of useful items left. Tome stuck close to me, his eyes wide as he took in the chaos. He reminded me of my brother's puppy, who followed me around when we were kids. He offered to pull one of the trailers, and I handed him the handle without a word. We moved methodically through the aisles, our eyes scanning the shelves for anything useful.
Our first stop was the pharmacy. I pulled out the list Rosalina had given me and began to search for the items. It was a bit of a scavenger hunt, with many of the shelves picked clean, but we managed to find most of what she needed. As we moved through the store, I grabbed anything else that seemed useful or valuable. Canned food, batteries, tools, and even a few luxury items like chocolate and coffee.
As we passed the toy aisle, something caught my eye. A pair of stuffed animals, one a bear and the other a rabbit sat forgotten on a shelf. I thought of Emma and Michel and how much they would love these. With a smile, I added them to our growing pile of supplies.
Finally, we made our way to the back of the store, where the office was located. The door was locked, but a swift kick took care of that. Inside, I found a piece of paper and a pen. I quickly scribbled a note explaining that we had taken what we needed but were leaving money in exchange. I wrapped a couple of gold coins in the note and dropped it into the cash box.
It was probably more than we took, being a few thousand a coin, but it was the payment for convenience.
Tome watched me with a confused expression, but he didn't say anything.
With our "shopping" done, I turned to Tome and asked if he was ready to leave. He nodded, and I let out a sharp whistle to signal the others. As we made our way to the front of the store, I saw that everyone had heeded my advice. Each person had a cart or dolly loaded with supplies, their faces flushed with the effort of pushing the heavy loads.
I asked if everyone was ready to head back and was met with a chorus of affirmative responses. I reminded them to drink some water before we set off, knowing that the journey back would be more strenuous than the journey here. They all complied, taking long gulps from their water bottles.
As we were finishing up, a group of people walked into the store. They moved cautiously, their eyes darting around. I watched them for a moment, my instincts on high alert, but they didn't seem to pose a threat. They were just more survivors trying to scrape by.
With a final check to make sure everyone was ready, we set off on the journey home. The trip took a little under two hours, and for the most part, it was uneventful. But I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched. It was a nagging sensation at the back of my mind, like a shadow lurking just out of sight. I tried to push it away, to focus on the task at hand, but it lingered, a dark cloud over an otherwise successful day. I hoped that my gut was wrong, but it rarely was.