is talking about, but I’ve got enough for us to get by right now.” Opening the bag, he pulled out an M9 pistol and held it up. “I have one of these for each of us,” he said. All eight pistols have full, fifteen-round magazines, plus I have five hundred additional rounds of nine millimeter ammunition.”
“Carry these pistols with you,” Jake said, “but use them only if it is absolutely necessary to defend yourself.”
“I’ve never fired one of these,” Julie said as she was given the pistol.
“It’s easy enough,” Deon said. “Here is the safety. When the safety is off, all you have to do is pull the trigger.”
“I also have four flashlights and four small RadioShack special two-way radios. The small limited-range two- way radios will serve us well for keeping touch with each other. And four is all we will need, as we will deploy in two-man teams,” Jake said.
“Good idea. And it is probably safer that we deploy in two-man teams,” Deon said.
“Thanks for the endorsement,” Jake said. “Karin, you go with me, and Julie, I suggest you go with Deon. The rest of you team up however you want.” Jake looked at his watch. “It is nineteen thirty hours now, we will rendezvous back here at twenty-four hundred. Any questions?”
“Yeah, I have one,” John said. “When we get to the checkout counter, do we ask for plastic or paper bags?”
The others laughed.
“Major, these radios are pretty standard,” Willie said. “That means that anyone who wants to can listen in. I suggest that we adopt call signs, rather than use names.”
“Good idea, Willie. How about you assign them?”
“Okay. You’ll be Vexation Six.”
“Negative,” Clay spoke up quickly. “Six designates the commander. Anyone out there listening who has ever been in the Army will recognize that in a heartbeat. I think we should keep the call signs as innocuous as we can.”
“Yeah,” Willie said. “You are right. Okay, how about Mickey Mouse one through four?”
“Alright. Jake, you and Karin are Mickey Mouse One; John, you and Marcus are Mickey Mouse Two; Deon, you and Julie are Three; and Clay and I will be Mickey Mouse Four,” Willie said.
“Let’s test them out,” Jake suggested.
The four radios were checked; then radios, pistols, and flashlights were tucked into pockets.
“Back here at twenty-four hundred,” Jake reminded them as they left on their appointed rounds.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
By the time Jake and Karin arrived, there was very little left of the Wal-Mart Supercenter on South 231. The doors had been smashed in, and Karin started to step inside, but Jake held out his hand to stop her.
“Wait,” he whispered. “Let’s make sure nobody else is in here.”
The two stood quietly just inside the store for a long moment. The store was so dark that they couldn’t see two feet in front of them, which meant that if anyone was here they would have to be using a light, and the light could be seen.
They saw no light, and they heard no sound. After waiting about a minute, Jake turned on the large flashlight he was carrying.
“I think we’ve got it all to ourselves, such as it is,” Jake said.
As the moved deeper inside they could see that what merchandise did remain was scattered around on the floor. There was a large yellow smiley face next to a sign that said SHOP WAL-MART.
Jake moved the light back and forth on the floor so they could see to pick their way through without tripping over anything.
Though the food products, clothing, and small utensils had been well cleaned out, the large-ticket items, TVs, etc., remained. Under ordinary circumstances, this would have been strange, but because there were no television stations broadcasting anywhere in America, at least as far as Jake knew, seeing the TV sets still sitting on the shelves wasn’t at all surprising. However many of the TV sets had been smashed, not incidentally, but purposely, as an expression of anger and frustration.
Over each empty aisle in the food store were signs that told what product had once been there. Now the signs were little more than a tantalizing tease.
COOKIES, CRACKERS, CHIPS, AND SNACKS
RICE, BEANS, SPAGHETTI, NOODLES
SOUPS, CANNED MEAT
COLD AND HOT CEREALS
COFFEE, SOFT DRINKS
“Soft drinks,” Karin said. “Do you think . . . ?”
“I bought the last root beer they had when they were still doing business,” Jake said.
There was not one food item remaining anywhere in the store. Not even bulk, uncooked items, such as rice, flour, or beans.
In the book and magazine section, there were several soft-cover books scattered around on the floor.
“Let’s grab as many of these as we can,” Jake suggested. “Without TV or radio, I expect reading will be about our only source of entertainment.”
“Good idea,” Karin replied. “What do you like?”
“Westerns, action stories, just about anything, I guess. I think we are far beyond the ability to be choosy.”
“Look, tablets and pencils,” Karin said, scooping up several of them from the same aisle as the books. “This will please Julie.”
As they moved on through the store, Jake saw a box underneath a turned-over stocking shelf. Pushing the shelf out of the way he saw that the box, though not completely full, had at least ten packages of “sandwich cookies, peanut-butter filling.”
“Whoa, now this is going to be a treat,” he said, stuffing the cookies down into the large, canvas bag.
“Where to now?” Karin asked.
“Let’s go to the garden shop,” Jake suggested.
Amazingly, the garden shop was virtually untouched. There, Jake found a wheelbarrow, which he loaded with a couple of watering cans, spades, rakes, and dozens of packets of seed from half a dozen vegetables. Here, too, he found insect repellent and he put as many cans as he could into the wheelbarrow.
“Wait,” Jake said, stopping at one shelf. “These are the seeds we want.”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with what we have?
“These are non-hybrid seeds. I can’t believe there are so many of them.”
“What are non-hybrid seeds?”
“Almost all the vegetables we see today are hybrids. Hybrid vegetables make the best vegetables, but they can’t be counted on to produce seed that will reproduce. For that you need seeds in their original form. That’s what this is.”
Jake scooped up several packets, getting much more seed than he would need.
“If we can stay alive until these seeds produce, we’ll be in good shape,” Jake said.
Karin laughed. “Oh, great. All we have to do is stay alive? Yes, I’m for that.”
Finally, with a completely stuffed B-4 bag on top of the filled wheelbarrow, Jake and Karin stepped back through the smashed doors and started across the nearly vacant parking lot toward Jake’s Volvo.
Jake saw a pickup truck parked next to his car, and he knew, at once, that the pickup truck driver was either
