Simon shot her a smile and opened the door. “If there are any Quee here, I’ll just have to remind them who their alpha is.”
She rolled her eyes and put the RV in park. “Right. You do that.”
He stepped toward the front of the store and pulled the pistol. “I’d bet money they’re all gone.” He paused by the front door and winced. “Good god, I think they all died in here.”
Lana cringed at the smell and shook her head at him. “We aren’t going in there,” she said, narrowing her eyes, “we’ve both had baths.”
Simon sighed and stepped closer to the door. The broken glass crunched under his feet. “We need supplies. We can’t hole up in the mountains with nothing to eat but hair and toenails.”
She rubbed a hand over her bald head. “Not funny, asshole.”
Simon peered into the murky gloom and hollered inside, “Hello in there!”
He strained to listen for movement and once he was satisfied there was nobody home, he tucked the pistol into his waistband and gabbed a shopping cart. “Grab anything that still looks edible.”
Lana winced again as she stepped inside. “Oh my god. Tell me it wasn’t like this when we were here.”
Simon paused at a dried and cracking black pool of shit. “Yeah, it was.” He nodded toward the stain. “Avoid stepping in the squirt piles. I don’t think that will wash off.”
She gagged as she fell into step beside him. “Oh my god. I can taste it.” She wretched slightly and spit. “Please, Simon, we can find another place that doesn’t stink.”
“We know this place.” He pushed deeper into the store. “This used to be home.”
She shook her head as she grabbed another cart. “This was never home.”
Simon paused as a swarm of flies took to the air then continued. He swept the remaining cans of food into the cart, ignoring those that fell to the floor. He wasn’t going to risk getting Quee shit on him for a lousy can of lima beans. “Find as much canned meat stuff as you can. We’ll need plenty of protein.”
“Listen to you,” she muttered. “Mister nutrition now.”
“I don’t think either of us wants to be trapped in an RV with the other when all we’ve had is beans.” He allowed that thought to take root in her mind as he continued pushing through the store.
She paused at the uncooked pasta. “How are you with carbs?”
“The more the merrier,” he yelled from two aisles over. He continued working his way through the store, straining to push the overfilled cart with one hand. He paused and stared in the gloomy shadows at the rows of liquor. He felt his mouth go dry and he licked his lips. His hand reached out and caressed the side of a half-gallon bottle of cheap whiskey.
“Want me to give you a minute alone?”
Simon nearly jumped at her voice then turned and gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry.” He pulled the cart back and stepped around her. “Old habits and all that.”
She sighed and reached up to grab a few of the bottles. “We might need a disinfectant.”
Simon paused and gave her a shake of the head. “There’s rubbing alcohol by the pharmacy.”
“What’s the difference?”
He gave her a weak smile. “Rubbing alcohol will kill you if you drink it.” He peered at the bottles sitting atop her cart. “That stuff won’t. Not right away at least.” He turned for the front of the store then called over his shoulder, “And I’m only human. Best to keep that stuff as far away from me as possible.”
Lana watched him drag the cart towards the front of the store then glanced at the bottle in her hand. She unscrewed the top and sniffed the contents. She winced as she screwed the cap back on. “I’ll take his word for it.” She dropped the plastic bottle and it made an odd thwump sound as it bounced on the hard tile floor.
She turned for the front of the store and pushed her cart after him. “Wait up. I’ll help you load this crap.”
Simon paused at the front doors. “Take your time.” He pushed the cart out into the sunlight and towards the RV. “We have a lot more trips to make.”
5
Hatcher jerked awake as Roger banged on the door leading into the dining room. “Wakey, wakey, hands off snakey.”
Hatcher sat up so suddenly that he pulled a muscle in his shoulder. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a fella like that.” He rolled his head on his neck, stretching the tension from his muscles.
“Yeah.” Roger leaned on the doorway and smirked at him. “I noticed how awake and alert you were.”
“Not a word to Vic.” He narrowed his gaze at the man. “I mean it.”
“The woman who saved my life? Never.” Roger stepped into the room and handed Hatcher a thermos. “Gift from Candy.”
Hatcher unscrewed the cap and inhaled deeply of the dark roasted coffee. “Ah, nectar of the gods.” He poured a cup and set the thermos down on the coffee table. “I’m telling ya, Rog, that woman is a keeper.”
Roger nodded as he fell into the chair opposite. “You’re telling me.” He crossed his legs and sat back, watching as Hatcher fought to stay awake. “How long did you hold out for?”
Hatcher sipped the bitter nectar then looked at him through squinted eyes. “I noticed when my watch broke 4AM.” He took another sip and sighed. “I knew he wouldn’t be back that late, so I caught a few winks.”
Roger raised a brow at him. “What made you think he wouldn’t sneak back after that?”
“My dad was a cop. There’s a reason they shut down most patrols after the bars close.” Hatcher blew on the cup then took a long drink.
“I was a cop, too. Trust me, bad guys do stupid shit at all hours.”
“Then call it a hunch.” Hatcher poured another cup and sat back, the cobwebs in his head
