He went back to retrieve his empty backpack and plastic shopping bags. He opened a bottle of water and drained it. Sighing in heavy satisfaction, he tossed the empty bottle on the kitchen counter. He had nearly a dozen bottles of water now. He hoped he could find more. Leaving his apartment, he went to his next apartment. This one was locked. He knocked on the door, a perfunctory knock. He could smell the putrid fug from within. Taking the screwdriver, he placed it on the lock and hammered away. The noise of it made him wince as it bounced off the hallway. Finally, the door gave in and opened.
Cautiously, he stepped in, his eyes quickly scanning the apartment. There on the floor lay a dog, a small yappy one. It had died of starvation or dehydration. He’d not thought about pets. It saddened him that the poor thing had suffered so. He quickly went to the kitchen and once more rifled through the cupboards. He opened a small pantry and sighed happily. Bottles of water and packs of instant noodles. He also found cans of fruits and vegetables. He didn’t dare open the refrigerator, he wanted to keep whatever he had in his stomach.
With the water, the food stuff was heavy and he was sweating now in the hotbox of an apartment building. He’d make another run and then he’d call it a day. It was getting late and he’d start his trip in the morning. At least tonight, he would feast and eat well. The food would be cold, but as hot as it was in his apartment, he was fine with that.
Ӝ
Emma squinted her eyes. It the distance ahead, she thought she saw a solitary figure walking along the highway. She pulled the Sig Sauer out and laid it on her lap. As she drew near, she could see that the person had a large backpack, stuffed with odds and ends hanging off. It was one of those kinds that hikers used. She slowed the blue Silverado down and the figure stopped and turned. It was a round face, brown, with round glasses. Dark block brows raised in question as she pulled up and stopped.
She smiled down at the diminutive woman, for it was a woman, dressed in jeans and a light blue jacket.
“Hi.” She smiled down. “Where ya heading?”
“Hey! No clue. Where are you heading?” said the woman with a heavy Boston accent, the woman grinned. Her grin was infectious and Emma found herself grinning back. She loved hearing the heavy Boston accent, it never ceased to crack her up.
“I’m heading to Pennsylvania, to a nice little state park to start a new life.”
“How would you like some company; it sounds as good a place to go as any?” The woman laughed, causing Emma to laugh as well.
“Hell yeah, I was afraid I was the only person left on earth. Come on in. Buddy, get in the back seat, boy.” Emma ordered the dog, who seemed to understand and hopped into the packed backseat. The woman came around and opened the passenger’s side. Taking off her large backpack, she groaned in pleasure.
“Jesus Christ, that’s damned wicked heavy, I’ll tell you.” The woman laughed and shoved the backpack into the back cab of the truck, shoving Buddy over toward the driver’s side. Climbing up into the truck, Emma noticed the holster the woman wore at her waist. It looked tactical, not like her own. The woman noticed her gaze.
“I’m a cop, or was. Boston P.D. Name’s Paadini Sullivan. My friends call me Paadi.” She grinned and her dark block brows bounced up and down with good humor. Emma knew she’d found a friend.
“I’m Emma Prichard, and I was a nurse. Now, post-apocalyptic survivor.” She sniggered, and Paadi laughed as well. Settling in, she buckled her seatbelt.
“Nice police dog you got there, did you find him or did he find you?” Paadi asked.
“What? I just thought he was a mutt. We found each other. How do you know he’s a police dog?”
“He’s a Belgian Malinois, and when I get a chance, I’ll check his ears for a tattoo. Sometimes the owner/trainer has them tattooed. Lucky, he’s bonded with you and he’ll protect you with his life.”
“Wow, I just figured he was he was a mutt of some kind.” Emma said, stunned. She’d heard about those dogs and knew them to be very intelligent and expensive. They were used for bomb sniffing and drug detection.
“Sounds like he found a good mom. What made you decide on Pennsylvania?”
“I’m from Lancaster and my family and I used to go to R.B. Winter State Park a few times a year. I’m hoping with all the forested land and other parks; I’d have a good chance of surviving. I got some books on survival in the back, and Winter has great fishing. Also hunting, though I’ll be honest, I’ve no clue how to garden nor hunt. I can fish, however.”
“So don’t I! My husband taught me. Poor bastard died in the first week of
