I have no intention of scavenging in this area. There is enough stockpile in my storage unit. I continue to walk on the sidewalk, making as little noise as possible. The storage building is next to the post office at the end of the street.
I pass a deer who is wandering around a garbage container. She tilts her head up and stares at me. I am probably the first person she has seen in weeks.
The storage building seems to be in one piece. There is no sign of a break-in.
The two-story building has non-reflective transparent glass all around. All the unit doors inside look closed. This gives me relief. My stash should be safe.
Even though the entire town seems to be abandoned, I approach the building with caution.
I see a red light on the key panel of the front door. It looks like the building’s solar panels are still powering the security system. After what happened at the cabin, my day may not be too bad after all. If I manage to enter the building and open my storage unit’s door, I can stay here for a while in the safety of electronic doors.
I enter the passcode. The red light turns green. It was easy. I pass through the lobby counter and go to the stairs on the opposite side of the building. I walk to my unit on the second floor. It’s one of the last units in the hallway.
There is a red light on my unit’s key panel as well. I enter the passcode they created specifically for this unit. Nothing happens. I am pretty sure that I entered the correct digits. I try it again. The red light stays.
One of the valuable lessons my IT career taught me is that never do a third attempt if a system is not accepting your password. This attempt may lock your account, which causes a whole new set of challenges.
The system probably locked itself already after somebody forcefully tried opening units. Otherwise, my access code should have worked.
The main computer downstairs should be able to overwrite the block and open the unit door. I hope the solar panels have enough energy to power the main computer as well.
I use the same stairs to go back to the first floor. I look outside through the glass facade to make sure there is no one around.
The computer’s monitor is powered on, displaying a background image on the lock screen. It’s a sunset view on an oceanfront hill with small village houses painted entirely in white. I wonder how the people in that village are doing now. I hope their community stuck together instead of turning to each other like they did here.
I press a key on the keyboard, and as expected, it prompts me for a user password.
From my previous visits, I know that this place had personnel working in two or three shifts. They probably have the password written somewhere for shift changes. I skim through the notepad next to the keyboard and the sticky notes at the bottom of the monitor. There is nothing that resembles a password.
However, a number on the notepad grabs my attention: 218. It is underlined and circled several times. It’s too short to be used as a password, but they might have used a repetition of this number.
A car passes by the street with loud music coming out of open windows. I crouch behind the monitor.
Driving fast and loud is one of the annoying things Saviors enjoy doing. I better hurry. Who knows what they are doing in this small town. I hope they are just passing through. If they are planning to loot the businesses on the street, I hope this building is at the bottom of their “today’s break-in to-do list.”
I look back at the monitor. This version of the computer operating system enforces a minimum of eight characters for passwords.
I enter 218218218 in the password field.
A “wrong password” message appears on the screen.
I try 218218218218.
“Wrong password” message appears, again.
I go through the notepad and sticky notes one more time. I check drawers, even looking at the floor closely in case a piece of paper dropped from the counter.
Sighing, I almost give up until I spot my laptop in the gas station’s plastic bag right next to the counter. I feel like my day just got brighter. I can use the password cracking software on my laptop to brute force my way into the main computer.
Going around the corner, I follow the internet cable connected to the computer and find a routing box. Another cable is plugged into the same box from the landline phone. I unplug it and plug it into my laptop. This allows me to connect the main computer from my laptop.
I open the password cracking software and quickly set the parameters. As I hit the “Start” button, combinations of words and numbers begin raining down on the screen. It is trying thousands of combinations to find the matching password.
I don’t expect the employees to use a complex or long password. With my laptop’s boosted speed, it shouldn’t take more than half an hour to find the password.
The number 218 on the notepad gets my attention again.
I get it now. It’s a storage unit number. How did I miss it? My storage unit is 219. Whatever the reason they noted down the number 218, there must be something very valuable in that unit. Thankfully, it’s right next to mine.
My laptop makes a chirping sound. It’s the sweet sound of a cracked password! The password is displayed in a big green box: Uhaul123. What a creative password. No wonder why it took only a few minutes to crack it.
For the first time in months, I thank myself. Risking my life to keep my laptop is saving my life.
I log in to the main computer successfully. I click an icon called “Unit Manager.”
