Simon shook his head. “Better.” He pushed past her and stepped inside the giant retail store. His eyes adjusted instantly to the near pitch black within as he upended a cart and made his way to the rear of the building.
His smile widened as he saw the long, skinny sticks in the air and he knew he was close. “Here we go.” He slowed and finally came to a stop. He pointed to the rows of items and announced, “Take all of these that you can find.”
He turned to see the Quee giving him confused stares. Simon groaned and reached for the compound bow hanging on the wall. “These!” He held it up and shook it at them. “These are weapons.” His smile broadened as he began to snatch arrows and knives from behind the counter.
“Get ‘em all!” he yelled. “Don’t leave anything behind.” He pushed the cart toward the closest of the Quee then turned his attention back to the products behind the counter.
His eyes scanned everything and he nearly yelped for joy when he saw what he really wanted. He reached beyond some overturned tins and gripped a small cardboard box in his fingers. He brought it closer to his face and stared at the letters on the side.
Try as he might, his mind just couldn’t put the markings into a form that he could recognize. He fumbled with the box and finally tore a corner loose. He shoved his finger inside and growled as 9MM ammo fell to the glass-topped counter.
“No.” He tossed it over his shoulder and reached for another box. He quickly tore the top off and dumped the contents out. He grunted as a pile of 22LR bounced on the counter and fell to the floor.
“No!” He snatched another box, then another, each containing brass cartridges of one kind or another.
Simon screamed and threw a box of ammo across the hallway, his eyes scanning the shelves. He froze when a familiar box came into view and he lunged at it. He hefted the long box and stared at it intently. His fingers fumbled again as he ripped it open and several smaller boxes fell out to the floor.
Simon hunkered and snatched up one of the smaller boxes. He ripped the top off and hooted when the shotgun shells fell to the tiles. He quickly pulled his boomstick around and plucked a shell from the floor. He stared at the weapon in his hand and willed his fingers to try to grip the cartridge. He gave a satisfied grunt when the shell finally slipped into the magazine well.
He stood and rested the bomstick across his shoulder. He nodded to his girlfriend and motioned her closer. “Get those small boxes. We’ll need them.”
He turned his attention back to the Quee and groaned as they continued to try to stack things into the same, overfilled shopping cart. He growled low in his throat and reached for the nearest woman. “Get another from the front of the store.” He pushed her towards the door. “Bring two.”
Simon leaned back and smiled as his people methodically stripped the shelves of the sporting goods store. He stepped away from the counter and peered deeper into the building. His eyes fell on something else familiar and he snapped his fingers, getting another Quee’s attention. “Take all of this, too.” He handed the sealed package of beef jerky to the woman. “Get it all.”
His girlfriend appeared at his side. “Foods?”
“Yeah, baby. Foods.” He pushed past her and yanked a football jersey from a rack. He held it out to her and draped it over her front. “I’ve never been one to cover up a woman, but you’d look good in that.” He pushed past her again and muttered, “Put it on.”
Simon watched as his people shopped for weapons of war and smiled to himself. The Cagers have no idea what’s coming for them.
Chapter 15
“You’re creeping me out.”
Hatcher’s head spun around and he stared at Cooper lying in bed, his eyes barely cracked. He smiled as he patted the older man’s arm. “Just checking on ya.”
“Your sister is doing just fine at keeping an eye on me.” Cooper groaned as he tried to sit up. Hatcher pressed him back to the mattress then leaned forward to grip a lever under the bed.
“I got it. Hold on.” He pushed Coop upright then released the lever, locking the position. “Better?”
Dave Cooper nodded and leaned his head back, a long sigh escaping as he relaxed. “To what do I owe the pleasure at such an ungodly hour?”
Hatcher averted his gaze and shrugged. “Can’t I just check in on ya without getting the third degree?”
“Nope.” Cooper studied him for a moment. “You definitely look like a man with some shit on his mind.”
Hatcher blew his breath out slowly then nodded. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.”
Coop chuckled. “The cure? Oh yeah. I’m down but not dead. Everybody is talking about it.”
“Yeah, well…I’m not holding my breath.”
“You think it’s a scam?”
Hatcher shook his head. “I wouldn’t say scam. Just…”
“Too good to be true?”
Hatcher slowly stood. “The same government that caused this mess is saying they’re fixing it.” He turned and gave Cooper a serious look. “When does the government ever ‘fix’ anything?”
Cooper chuckled again then gripped his midsection. “You’re preaching to the choir, bud.” He sobered and gave Hatcher a cautioned look. “You used to work for the government.”
“I was a park ranger, not a politician.”
“Well, if it’s the politicians that made the cure, then you know that shit won’t work.”
“Amen to that.” Hatcher sat back down and rubbed at his eyes. “And not just the cure. I have this uneasy feeling that all of this is about to come down around our ears.”
“Why’s that?” Cooper’s voice was barely a whisper in the dim light.
Hatcher turned and gave him a worried look. “Because nothing good ever works out for me.” He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “The woman I cared most about
