“Odd, it’s sorta like beef jerky,” J.B. said puzzled, then contorted his features. “Son of a bitch, we’re breathing longpig!”
Krysty recoiled at that. Longpig, the cannie term for human flesh.
“Just deaders rotting,” Ryan stated, prodding a display of plastic bags with the barrel of his blaster.
“Better put on your masks,” Mildred ordered brusquely, pulling out a handkerchief. “There could be microbes in this dust that’ll make us ill.”
The unspoken word of plague seemed to thunder in their midst, and the companions quickly tied the clothes over their faces. At the sight, Mildred felt her mood oddly brighten as she thought about how the security guards from a hundred years ago would have had a heart attack at so many heavily armed people wearing masks invading their store.
“Something funny?” J.B. asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Tell you later, John,” she promised, smiling with her eyes. The earlier depression was gone. The past was past, and she was still alive. Mildred had true friends and a man who deeply loved her. There really, wasn’t anything more important in life than that.
Playing her flashlight on the ceiling signs, Mildred found the soda pop aisle and led the rest that way. It was dim between the tall racks, but the candles helped and she could read the colorful labels of assorted soft drinks. The names brought memories of ridiculous television commercials, and the physician found herself humming jingles that hadn’t been played for a century.
“This brand seems to be the best,” Ryan said, lifting a shiny container that audibly sloshed. “Glass bottles, good and tight.”
It was only half full, but the fluid inside was crystal clear with no clouding to mark contamination. He cracked the plastic film around the cap with a simple twist but sniffed the water first, then poured some into a palm before touching it with his tongue.
“Nuking hell, that’s good.” He sighed thankfully, then took a long drink and ended finishing off the entire container.
“Fireblast, I needed that,” he said, then placed the empty back on the shelf. “Everybody, fill your canteens, drink your fill and then put a dozen into your backpacks.”
“We could load up a truck from outside,” Dean suggested, placing a case of beef stew on the floor. “Take everything we can.”
“Those wags are aced,” J.B. explained, pouring a bottle of water over his head, then paused as it seeped into his dusty clothing. “This isn’t a mil base or a redoubt. Nothing out there has a nuke battery or condensed fuel. The power is gone, the tanks are dry and the engine is seized tight from the grease dried solid as iron over the years.”
Leaving the others to their work, Mildred proceeded deeper into the market, the reflected shine of her flashlight moving about here and there. After a few minutes, she returned, her satchel bag bulging with items.
“There was a pharmacy!” Mildred called in triumph. “Alcohol, white thread for sutures, powdered sulfur for wounds, bandages, aspirins, antibiotics! I found a thousand things we need!”
“Can you carry a thousand things?” Dean asked calmly, stuffing bottles into the bag. As the beam started to wane, Mildred pumped the handle of her flashlight to recharge the weakening batteries.
“No, Dean, I can’t,” she admitted honestly. “But even these few items will help us stay alive. My next batch of jump juice may actually do the trick.”
“If we can get out of this pit alive,” Ryan said, pouring a full bottle of water over his head and brushing back his soaked hair. It had been several weeks since they found a redoubt with a working shower, and he could almost taste the stink of his clothing.
Fully loaded, the group took a detour through the canned goods aisle and found a dozen cans of soup and beef stew in acceptable condition. Privately, they each knew there was probably a lot of beef jerky in the snack aisle, but by unspoken agreement, they didn’t go there. The meaty smell in the air of the store had killed any appetite for that staple for a long time.
Going to the front of the store, Ryan sent Doc and Jak back to fill up with water, but Mildred stopped the teenager.