Dark Titan Journey Book 1

by Thomas A. Watson

  “We’re going to die,” Renee said, looking down.

  “Think like that and you will,” Nathan popped off.

  Jessie looked over at Connie. “Connie, you come out to the house with us,” he told her.

  “Thank you Jessie. I was really worried about that,” she admitted. “I live in an apartment,” she told Nathan.

  “Okay everyone, think about this and I’ll write more stuff down if I can, but you need to read. Find books about edible plants, how to hunt, trap, fish, and preserve food. Don’t throw anything away until you know you can’t use it for something else. Water is what you secure first,” Nathan told them.

  “When will it get really bad?” Monica asked.

  Nathan stood up. “Like it’s not now, but I know what you mean. In about a month, and it will continue until next spring,” he told her. “Come on, let’s get some rest. I’m going to walk around the area then come inside. Don’t worry, I won’t be out of sight. Tonight if you hear Ares growling, come and get me. That’s what he does when danger is near,” Nathan said, walking over to Renee. Holding out the pistol from the man he’d shot, he asked, “Do you know what this is and how to use it?”

  “It’s a Glock 17, nine millimeter, and yes I know how to use it. If I would’ve driven to work I would’ve had one in my car,” she told him.

  He gave her the pistol. “If you point it at someone, shoot them. Don’t ever use it to scare someone or you’ll die,” he told her as she took the pistol.

  “Mark told me the same thing,” she said, clipping the holster on.

  He led everyone back inside, then went to the office and grabbed several items. Locking the door as he went outside, he reached down and rubbed Ares’ head. “Stay alert,” he said, then headed across the street to the little strip mall. Going around the back of the building, he crouched down and listened. Not hearing or seeing anything, he moved to the back door of the pharmacy. Pulling out his lock picks, he prayed nobody was inside as he broke in.

  Slowly turning the dead bolt, he moved to the doorknob. When the lock clicked, it sounded like a tree falling in the quietness of the night, and Nathan almost took off running. Standing to the side of the door in case someone was inside and started popping shots off, he cracked the door. Looking at Ares, he whispered, “Get ’em.” Ares stuck his nose at the crack and looked back at Nathan.

  Relief flooded over Nathan as he stood up and eased inside with Ares leading the way. Closing the door behind him, he moved over behind the counter where a skylight overhead lit up the store. A large locked shelf was over in the corner and Nathan passed it up, heading to the refrigerator under the counter. Opening it up, he searched, finding a lot of vials of regular insulin. Taking them out, he set them on the counter. Then he grabbed ten vials of Lantus insulin, placing them with the others. Looking around, he found the inhalers. Nathan grabbed twenty.

  Moving out into the store area, he found cloth shopping bags and headed back to load up his haul so far. He poked around until he found the syringes. There were only fifteen bags and most diabetics used around a thousand a year. Nathan took them all. Next he found the glucose meters and started opening each brand until he found one that was sealed in Mylar. Grabbing the six off the shelf, he took all the test strips for it.

  Next he looked till he found the Prednisone and took a big supply bottle of five hundred, twenty milligram tablets. Dropping it in the bag with the inhalers, he grabbed an empty bag and moved toward the shelves. He started grabbing antibiotics like Cipro, Penicillin, Zithromax, and six others, all of them in the big supply bottles. Taking two of each, he laid the eighteen bottles in the bag, then found Tamiflu and Relenza and took half the supply of each of them.

  Moving over to the locked cabinet, he took out his picks and unlocked it. He had been a nurse a long time and recognized what was in there. He grabbed four of the big bottles of pain medications and two of the muscle relaxers. Then he looked down at the Adderall. He had taken Adderall since he was twelve years old. Even now he had a bottle in his tote bag. It stopped his day dreaming but he really didn’t like it much; it made him feel flat emotionally. Sighing, he grabbed several big bottles, figuring day dreaming wouldn’t be healthy now.

  Taking a last walk around, he grabbed some more supplies, then locked the cabinet back up and carried the seven bags to the back door. After he cracked the door, Ares let him know it was clear so he stepped outside and relocked the door. Easing up to the road, he didn’t see anything so he trotted across and headed to the side door of the diner. He opened the door with the key, then slid inside and moved toward the office and put the stuff away. Locking the door back up, he headed out into the store and found a small ice cooler.

  “Took you long enough,” he heard behind him. Nathan dropped down, reaching for his pistol, only to see Jessie behind him holding up his hands.

  “Dude, you scare me like that again and I’ll shoot you in the leg on principle,” Nathan told him as the adrenalin crash hit him and he just sat down on the floor. Ares came over and licked his face. “Some guard dog you are, didn’t even tell me he was there,” Nathan said, rubbing the massive head.

  Jessie laughed and kneeled down beside him. “I could’ve gone with you,” he said.

  “No, if someone would’ve been in there I would’ve had to run. I wasn’t going to kill for it,” he told Jessie.

  “I understand. You think I might have,” Jessie told him.

  “It’s a moot point now,” Nathan said, standing back up.

  “How much were you able to get?” Jessie inquired.

  “Enough for two years but only enough needles for a year.”

  “We have more than enough needles. You think that will be enough?” Jessie asked.

  “Don’t know, but I figure the higher ups will have drug manufacturing back up in that time. You just have to make sure you’re important enough around here for them to give her the medication,” Nathan told him.

  “How do I do that?” Jessie asked.

  “Have your son and other members of your family become part of the police force and have your farm pumping out food,” Nathan said.

  “I can do that.”

  “Who else is awake?” Nathan asked.

  “Everyone,” Jessie replied. Nathan slumped his shoulders and Jessie chuckled. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out, Nathan. You’re trying to help us,” Jessie told him.

  “But now you guys are accessories,” Nathan said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about and neither does anyone else,” Jessie said, patting Nathan on the arm.

  Nathan handed the cooler to Jessie. “Find a box we can put the insulin in so it doesn’t touch the ice,” he said, then headed to the office. He unlocked the door and grabbed the two bags for Jessie. “Put the vials in there and get rid of the bags,” Nathan told him.

  “Okay,” Jessie said, taking the supplies.

  Nathan grabbed a box and set the supplies for Monica in it and carried it to her. “I found these and you can have them,” he told her.

  Monica looked at him with tears running down her face. “Thank you Nathan,” she said.

  “No thanks required. I found them, just don’t tell anyone,” he told her.

  “What, that I traded a bottle of Jack Daniels for them?” she said, looking up and smiling. Nathan grinned at her approvingly.

  “Okay everyone let’s get some sleep,” Nathan said. He headed back to the office where he pulled the stuff out of the other bags and shoved them in his pack. Then he gave the bags to Jessie, who burnt them. Sitting down behind the desk, Nathan saw the bag with the rest of the dead man’s possessions. Pulling out the wallet and wads of cash, he started counting. He counted it twice and each time came up with seven thousand six hundred dollars. Throwing the wallet back in the bag, he shoved the money in his pocket.

  “This will do more good with me,” he said to himself. Picking up his AR, he took it apart and pulled out the small plastic box. The chemlite was now very d
im so he pulled out his flashlight and turned it on. He almost hit the floor as he jumped back from the light. “Damn, that’s bright,” he mumbled.

  Taking the parts out of the lower receiver of the AR, he laid them to the side and put the parts from the box in the lower. When he was finished, his selector switch rotated all the way around with four clicks: safe, single shot, auto, and burst. He had a tax stamp for the suppressor, but what he had just done was beyond illegal, cop or not. If he was caught, he was toast. Somehow he didn’t think that would matter too much in the end.

  Picking up his backpack, he started packing it with supplies and food. When he was done, only the top bag that could be pulled off for a fanny pack was empty. He figured he was carrying close to forty pounds of food now along with thirty pounds of ammo just in his pack. Then when he threw in the other supplies it would be another thirty pounds.

  Reaching down, he lifted up a small nylon case and unzipped it, pulling out a Ruger 10/22 take-down. Putting it together, he put it in the gun scabbard on the side. This is what would feed him on the road home. Not in the mood to go through his pack to see what could be left behind, he headed out into the store. Looking out the window, he saw the Northern Lights still lighting up the sky.

  Turning around, he saw the magazine and book section. Looking at the magazines, he picked up a bodybuilding one, another on assault weapons, and froze upon seeing the topographical books of states. He picked up the ones for Alabama, Mississippi, and Arkansas; then, thinking about it for a second, he grabbed six other states on his route. Walking over to the maps, he picked up a map wheel pen and a map of the United States. He left the electronic ones and grabbed the one with the dial. Sitting down at a table in the diner, he started going over routes, finally falling asleep an hour before dawn.

  Nathan woke up to a long, wet tongue licking his face. “Ares, you better have a good reason to wake me up,” he mumbled, opening his eyes. Ares was looking at Nathan with his tongue hanging out. “You need to go outside?” he asked and Ares ran for the door.

  Standing up and stretching, Nathan looked around and saw Jessie and Lenore in the kitchen cooking. Ares barked one time real loud, “RAAF!” to let Nathan know he was waiting. Nathan moved out from behind the table. “Chill out, I’m coming,” he told Ares, who was dancing in a circle. Throwing the bolt, Nathan opened the door and Ares took off like a rocket across the parking lot.

  Chuckling, Nathan stepped outside and looked around. The sun had not yet risen over the horizon and the only sounds he heard were birds and insects. “This is just weird,” he said out loud as Ares ran back over to him. “That’s all you had to do and you woke me up for that?” he asked Ares.

  Ares lay down on the ground and rolled on his back and groaned. “Ahhw.”

  “I’m not rubbing your belly, fool, you woke me up,” Nathan said, looking down at him. Undeterred, Ares raised his paws over his head, exposing his chest. “Oh alright,” Nathan said, kneeling down beside him and scratching his belly. Ares started grunting as Nathan rubbed his belly. “You are pathetic,” Nathan said, standing back up. Ares, still resting on his back, cocked his head and looked at Nathan as if to say, ‘Yeah, but you’re the one that rubbed my belly.’

  “Come on, we have work to do,” Nathan said, heading back inside. Ares jumped up and followed. Inside, Nathan found everyone up and cleaning the area. Walking into the diner, he stopped in front of Connie. “I’m going to put together a survival box for everyone here. Start a tab for me, okay,” he told her.

  “You want me to charge you for putting together a box for us?” she asked, speaking volumes with her raised eyebrows.

  “Yeah, I’m buying it and giving it to you,” he said.

  Connie shook her head. “You are a very weird man. I think you were born in the wrong time period,” she told him.

  “I think you don’t know me that well,” he told her before walking to the back.

  Renee walked past him and called out, “I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

  Ignoring her, he walked to the back storeroom and grabbed ten packing boxes and carried them to the store. “Does everyone have a backpack at home?” he called out, and everyone said they did. Grabbing a box, he headed over to the camping aisle first and saw a rack of JanSport backpacks. There were ten in all, so he grabbed four just in case they needed one extra. Looking at the price tag, Nathan almost collapsed. He could pick these things up for fifty bucks and here they were eighty.

  He dropped his box and looked at the packs, noticing they were all hydration-compatible. Moving down the aisle, he grabbed four, two-liter bladders and strode over, showed Connie the packs and then threw them in the office. Heading back to the first box, he started grabbing basic supplies, then moved to the food aisle. Placing dried food like rice and beans in first, he then moved down to the canned goods where he selected items carefully. Finally, he moved to the hygiene area and put in the important toilet paper. Grabbing other supplies, he filled the box up and stopped at a display where he threw in a pack of lighters.

  Putting the box on the counter, he looked at Connie. “Add this up and put nine more on it,” he told her.

  “There are only six of us,” she reminded him.

  “In case we want to help out someone or one of you need more,” he told her.

  “You’re going to need some of this money to get home on,” she told him.

  Nathan started laughing. “Connie, in a few weeks this money is going to be worthless. I’m trying to get some use out of it. Currency is fixing to be barter and ammunition is going to be at the top of the list,” he told her.

  She looked in the box. “You didn’t put any ammunition in here though,” she pointed out.

  Nathan shrugged his shoulders apologetically. “I’m sorry, I don’t have that much,” he told her.

  She turned around and pointed at a closet behind the counter. “We sell ammunition,” she told him.

  He walked around the counter as she unlocked the doors and opened them up. There were rows and stacks of ammunition. Granted, he knew he had way more at home but he wasn’t at home. “You have to love a country store,” he said, looking at the ammunition.

  “This is Georgia, Nathan, and hunting is big business here,” she said.

  “You don’t sell guns by any chance?” he asked hopefully.

  “Ahh, no,” she admitted.

  “This will be enough then,” he said, picking up a brick of five hundred .22 caliber. “Ask everyone what type of guns they have at home. I would like to buy each of you all in that caliber, but your prices should be illegal,” he told her.

  “That’s the owner. He buys cheap and sells dear. One of his grandkids came by yesterday to check on us and told us he was in the next county emptying out his liquor stores,” she told Nathan.

  “He has working vehicles?” he asked.

  “Yeah, for some reason he has a big box truck, a station wagon, and a motorcycle,” she said.

  The first thought through that crossed his mind was that the owner was a complete ass; then Nathan though about that a minute. The liquor stores would get hit first and that would always sell. No, he concluded, the man was just thinking ahead.

  Connie grabbed his arm. “I’m giving you the employee discount of twenty percent since you’re working here,” she told him.

  Nathan twisted his head around to look at her. “I have to see what kind of retirement plan you have before I commit to employment,” he said with a wink.

  She hugged him. “It sucks but the people here are good co-workers,” she said.

  “Yep, I can see that,” he said as she let him go. Looking back at the ammo, he grabbed a box of .45 and .38 for his other guns, then grabbed another brick of .22. He had fifteen hundred rounds of .22 now and that should keep him fed as he crossed the continent. “Connie, go sit with Renee and let her show you how the Glock works,” he suggested.

  With a dumbfounded look, Connie just stared at him and said, “You don’t
think I know how to use a gun?”

  Nathan took a step back. “Well, I just figured that—” he stumbled to a halt.

  “What, because I’m a woman and dress up I don’t know how to use one?” she asked indignantly .

  “No, I know plenty of women who hunt and dress up. You just didn’t strike me as the type,” he admitted.

  “I hunt every year and fish all the time. I even bait my own hooks,” she said, crossing her arms.

  Nathan laughed. “Well, you’ll do fine then,” he said. “Wait here.” He headed to the office, where he dropped the boxes of ammo and pulled out his Glock 19 and the extra magazine. He truly wanted to keep it for trade, but looking at his stuff he knew he had to start paring down the weight.

  Walking back to Connie, he held out the pistol and magazine. “Here’s a present for my callous remark. Please be careful with it, but use it if you have to,” he told her.

  Slowly, Connie took it and pulled the pistol out of the holster and ejected the magazine, then racked the slide, popping out the shell. “You always keep one under the hammer?” she asked.

  “A gun is useless if it’s not ready to fire,” he told her.

  Connie smirked. “Point taken,” she said, putting the round in the magazine. Then, putting the magazine back in, she racked the slide, chambering a round, and holstered the pistol. “I have a shotgun, a rifle, and a revolver at home. You should take this with you and trade it,” she said, holding it out to him.

  “I think it will do more good here with you, and it’s a gift. I just want one promise in exchange for it,” he told her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Never trade it for anything and keep it close, always. This is going to go on for a while and you are a beautiful lady, which means ‘target,’” he said gravely.

  Connie smiled at him. “Thank you, and it’s a deal,” she said and bent down and opened a drawer at the bottom of the ammunition closet. Inside were packages of magazines of many different calibers and models.