by Mark Goodwin
The girl finished ringing everything up. “It’s $965. We can’t take no credit cards.”
“No problem.” Everett counted out the money and handed it to the girl.
“Thank you.” Courtney pushed the cart toward the door.
“Y’all take care.” The girl smiled as they walked away.
Everett positioned as much of their purchases as possible in the trunk. “Camaro’s definitely were not designed for large shopping trips. I’m thinking we should go back to the cabin and drop this stuff off before we head to Winchester.”
“We’ll be wasting gas.”
“Not as much as we’ll waste making two trips to Winchester.”
Courtney loaded the rest of the bags into the back seat. “You’re right. This is nearly full.”
They covered the ten-mile drive back up to the cabin in a matter of minutes. Ken and Lisa helped them unload.
Everett followed Lisa in with a load. “Why don’t you guys write down your shoe and clothing sizes? If we can find boots or camo gear in your size, it might be something we could use.”
“Sure.” Lisa went to retrieve a pen and paper and soon returned with the figures.
Courtney waved as she and Everett got in the Camaro. “Be right back, again!”
Courtney unboxed one of the prepaid phones so she could call her parents from Winchester. “I’d say that was a productive trip.”
“We can’t complain. I don’t think anyone in DC is going shopping right now.”
“Not unless it’s in a commissary line in a ‘relief’ camp.”
When they were about ten miles outside of Winchester, Everett said, “You can call your parents now.”
Courtney nodded and entered the phone number. “Mom? Yeah, I’m fine. How are you?”
She was quiet for a minute. “I can’t say where I am. I’m sure you understand. Listen, I can’t talk long. Things aren’t going to get any better for a while. If you and Dad can get out to Aunt Tina’s, you’ll be much better off.”
Seconds later she said, “But the news is trying to keep people calm. You have to trust me on this. It’s going to get much worse. Call Aunt Tina today and leave no later than tomorrow. She has that big vineyard and plenty of room. The police aren’t going to be able to keep a lid on southern California much longer. If you wait until it gets worse, you’re going to get stuck.”
After a brief pause she said, “No, stay away from those places. People who go there aren’t being allowed to leave. And it’s very dangerous in the camps.”
“Sure. Hey, Dad.”
“No, but I’m safe with good people. You and Mom have to get out of there. Mom said your plan is to go to a relief center if things get bad. Don’t do it. The FEMA camps are little more than low security prisons. You won’t eat much better than prison, and you won’t be treated much better either. Most of the people inside are very desperate, which makes them violent. Aunt Tina is all alone out there. It would be a mutually beneficial thing if you and Mom went out there, but you have to go today or tomorrow. Travel is becoming more and more restricted.”
Courtney’s voice was getting louder. “No Dad. She’s your wife. She’s your responsibility. Pack her a suitcase and make her get in the car. You know how she is. She freezes up and can’t make decisions. You have to take the reins on this one. You know where I work. Trust me on this one.”
She calmed down slightly. “Okay. You promise?”
“I love you, too. Bye.” She ended the call.
Everett glanced over at her. “Everything alright?”
Courtney took a deep breath and exhaled. “I don’t know. My mom kind of panics at the least little thing. She won’t listen to anyone, and my dad lets mom’s emotions take over. He said he’s going to make her go out to the vineyard, but it’s going to be a fight.”
“Your aunt has a vineyard?”
“Yeah, she sold off most of it when my uncle died, but she has a big house and several acres. It’s out of the way. They’d be so much better off there.”
“He promised. He’ll do the right thing,” Everett said, trying to comfort her.
“I hope so.”
They exited the highway onto Route 11. At the next light, they turned into the shopping center for Gander Mountain outdoor store.
Courtney pointed at the closed Citgo gas station across the street. “What does that man’s sign say?”
Everett looked at the sign next to a man sitting in a lawn chair beside a beat-up white van. “Gas. $50.”
“Get it!” Courtney couldn’t contain her excitement.
Everett quickly pulled a U-turn. He pulled into the lot of the shuttered filling station. “How much you got?”
The man wore grease-stained overalls and a grimy hat. “How much you need?”
“Let me get five dollars’ worth in this cup.”
The man looked at Everett suspiciously. “I don’t sell five dollars’ worth.”
“Come on, buddy. I want to light it up and make sure there isn’t a half a cup of water left when the gas burns off. If it’s good, I’ll take ten gallons.” Everett checked to make sure Courtney was watching his back. He pulled out his envelope. “I’ve got the money.”
The old man looked at the cash as Everett quickly flashed it. “I guess you do.”
The man poured about two ounces of gas into Everett’s paper cup. “You must be a city slicker. Folks don’t pull those types of tricks out here. They’d disappear and wouldn’t nobody ever see hide nor hair of them again.”
“Then we shouldn’t have a problem.” Everett found a safe area and lit the fuel.
It finally burnt away and left no visual trace of water. “Fill’er up.”
The man wore a belt and holster with a long-barreled revolver hanging off the side of his overalls. Everett tried not to laugh, as it was an uncommon site to him. “Can you sell me any in a gas can?”
“I’d have to charge you double.” The man finished filling Everett’s tank.
Everett counted out the cash into the man’s hand. “So $500 for the fill up and $1,000 for ten gallons in two five-gallon cans?”
The man smiled to reveal an array of missing and discolored teeth. “My prices might be a little too cheap.”
Everett looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “I’d say your prices are fair. If they were too cheap, you’d be sold out by now.”
The man half grunted and half chuckled. “Yeah, well, let me get your gas.”
He helped Everett load two five-gallon plastic gas cans into the back of the Camaro. “That’s a big rifle for a city slicker.”
Everett winked. “Look who’s talking? That looks like a canon hanging off your hip.”
The man spit some tobacco on the pavement and sat back in his chair. “Keeps folks honest.”
Everett got back in the car and looked over at Courtney. “Never spent that much on a fill up before. Good job on spotting Scratchy over there.”
“You and Scratchy really hit it off. I thought you were going to invite him back to the cabin.”
Everett rolled his eyes and headed back toward Gander Mountain. The parking lot resembled that of Walmart, and they quickly found a space right up front. Inside, they saw fewer shoppers, less employees, and disheveled shelves that had been neglected since the attacks. They made their way to the guns and ammo section. The shelves were empty.
A young man walked by with a cart full of items that he was returning to their shelves.
Everett stopped him. “By any chance do you have ammo in the back of the store?”
“Yes, but we can’t sell it.”
Everett pulled out his CIA identification. “The moratorium doesn’t include law enforcement or federal agents.”
The young man looked at the ID, and then his eyes grew wide as he looked back at Everett. “Let me call my manager.” He took the walkie talkie off of his belt. “Jim, can you come over to guns?”
“Be right there,” a voice responded.
Ever
ett looked at the hodgepodge of items in the young man’s cart. “What’s all of this?”
“Stuff people tried to buy with credit cards then abandoned at check out when they were refused. We have signs all around saying ‘no credit cards,’ but people don’t pay any attention to them.”
“Looks like good stuff. Can I take those batteries and that flashlight?”
“Be my guest. That’s one less thing I have to restock.”
Courtney rummaged through the cart. “Looks like a lot of survival items.”
The man nodded. “Yeah, after the attacks, people rushed in here to buy all of these types of products. By Monday evening, the shelves were cleared of anything that people would use in an emergency. The word had pretty much gotten out by last night, and we’ve been dead all day. But still, as soon as I restock the items from the carts, someone buys them.”
Courtney looked at the clerk. “And you have more carts like this?”
“Probably fifteen or twenty more. Hardly anyone showed up for work, so I’m restocking by myself.”
Everett said, “And your boss, is he paying you cash?”
“How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.”
The young man smiled. “What else am I going to do all day? Plus, I get a discount and can spend whatever I make on survival things. Some people think this crisis might last a while. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Courtney winked at the clerk. “That’s smart. You look like you hunt. Does the store carry deer feed?”
“You mean attractant like C’mere Deer?”
“I guess. I don’t know what it’s called.”
“Baiting and feeding are illegal in Virginia, so we don’t sell it, but some folks make their own.”
Everett asked, “Out of what?”
“Rice bran, brown sugar, and strawberry Jell-O mix.”
Everett and Courtney looked at each other and smiled.
Everett asked the young man, “Would it be possible for us to have a look through the carts that you have to restock?”
“No. Customers aren’t allowed in the back. But tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll rummage through them for you.”
Courtney said, “A couple of good water filters would be great. I suppose they sold out. Any long-term storage food.”
Everett jumped in with, “Flashlights and batteries.”
The manager walked up. “Can I help you?”
Everett showed the man his ID. “I need some ammo. Federal agents are exempt from the moratorium.”
The man looked closely at the ID, and then verified that the picture was Everett. “The problem is that the SKU numbers are locked out of the system. I can’t ring it up.”
Everett said, “It’s easy enough to calculate sales tax. Can’t you create a handwritten ledger and enter it when the moratorium is over?”
“I wouldn’t be able to issue you a receipt without ringing it up.”
“I don’t need a receipt. I need this transaction to be as low profile as possible. I’m sure you must be aware that my agency is working in the area to locate people who may have been connected with the attacks. All I need is your cooperation.”
The manager immediately complied. “Whatever I can do to help.”
Everett said, “I need a couple thousand rounds of shotgun shells. Just give me a mix. Bird shot, small game, buck, whatever. I need .223 hollow point and FMJ. Do you have any pistol ammo? If so, I need .380, .45, and .40.”
The manager took out a pad and started writing everything down. “I’m completely out of .40 caliber. If I have any .45 or .380, it’s going to be high-end self-defense rounds; same with 223. All I have is premium hollow point rounds. I’m sold out of full metal jacket. I’ve got a few cases of bird shot and target loads, but I’ll have to check on buck shot. We were running low on ammo before the ban.”
Everett could see that he’d rattled the man, so he smiled to try to put him at ease. “Whatever you can come up with will help.”
The manager nodded. “Be right back.”
The young clerk said, “I’ll go see what I can find for you in the carts.”
Everett said, “Great, we’re going to browse around and meet you back here in a few minutes.”
Everett and Courtney looked through the camo clothing. Courtney whispered. “Who are you?”
“I had to be convincing. I studied up on the ammo so I’d sound like I knew what I was talking about.”
“It worked. You had me believing you were embedded with a terrorist cell.” Courtney tried on a Mossy Oak hunting jacket, then tossed it in the cart. She found jackets for Ken and Lisa as well and put them in the cart.
“Should we all have the same camo pattern or mix and match?” Everett tried on a Mossy Oak jacket as well.
Courtney found a Mossy Oak ball cap for Everett and replaced her borrowed hat with it. “This pattern looks like the woods around the cabin. I think we should stick with this.”
Next, they found boots for all of them and put those in the cart. Everett led the way. “Let’s pick up some backpacks, canteens and camping stuff. May be we should look at tents, too.”
“Why do you need a tent? Are you refusing to wear girl’s deodorant?”
Everett chuckled. “No. I’ll wear it if you promise not to poke fun at me. A tent would be good in case we ever have to go on an extended hunt or if the cabin gets overrun.”
Courtney helped to look for backpacks in muted colors that would blend into the forest. “Look, here are two in our camo pattern. Wow, they’re pricey.”
Everett waved his hand. “Money is no object.”
Courtney laughed. “At least it won’t be in a few days. I don’t see anything else in Mossy Oak. What about this one; it’s called Real Tree. I think it would blend in well.”
“Great. We just need one more pack.”
“How about this one?” Courtney held a large expedition pack.
“Black? I don’t think that will blend in. Here are some more camo packs.”
“Yes, but they’re all small. What about this one? It’s a solid color, but it’s a muted green.”
Everett looked at the large frame pack. “That’ll work. We should have taken two carts. Look around for some compact tents and sleeping bags, and I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here.”
Everett walked back to the front of the store to retrieve a cart and turned around to go back. He passed through the fishing section, grabbed some poles, line, lures, and a tackle box. When he found Courtney, she had two lightweight tents in muted colors and four sleeping bags ready to place in Everett’s cart. The two returned to the gun section where the manager had some ammo waiting for them on the counter.
“I had two cases of target loads and a case of game load. I found two boxes of self-defense load, which uses number four buck shot. It’s a little pricey, but it’s good ammo. I also have eight boxes of the Federal Fusion ammo in .223. It’s $30 a box. I didn’t find any pistol ammo. Sorry.”
“I appreciate your help.”
The young clerk arrived with a cart. “I found several boxes of .40 caliber ammo in one of the carts.”
“Fantastic!” Everett said.
“I also found two more flashlights, two water filters, cooking fuel, batteries, jerky, and some freeze-dried camping meals.”
“Thank you so much.” Courtney stuck a hundred dollar bill in the clerk’s hand.
He looked at the money. “Thank you. I’m glad I could help.”
The manger tallied up the ammo and bagged it up for Everett and Courtney. “$930 for the ammo.”
Everett counted out ten one-hundred dollar bills. “Keep it. We’re really grateful for your help.”
The manager smiled. “Anytime.”
On the way to the front, Everett noticed the pellet guns. “Could we kill a squirrel with these?”
“Maybe. They would at least be good for target practice. It would be a great way to train without wasting ammo.”
Everett grabbed two pellet rifles and an assortment of pellets to place in the cart.
When they finished checking out, their total purchases came close to $4000. As they counted out the money, Courtney joked. “One thing I’m good at is spending money.”
Everett shook his head. “Who knew it would be such a valuable skill.”
They pushed the carts back to the car and loaded up. They drove past the intersection with the Citgo on the way back to the highway.
Courtney said, “Scratchy is gone. I guess he sold out. Are you sad that he can’t come back to the cabin?”
Everett kept a straight face. “There’s no room for both of you in the car with all of our stuff. I doubt Scratchy could spend money like you, so I couldn’t trade you anyway.”
Courtney punched Everett and grabbed a package of spicy jerky from the top of one of the bags. “I’m exhausted. Knowing this stuff could be the difference between survival and death puts a little more of an emotional element to it. And that drains your energy.”
Everett sighed. “Yes, it does. Then, once you get the stuff, the adrenaline wears off, and you’re even more tired.”
“Let me know if you feel sleepy. I can drive. None of it will do us any good if you fall asleep at the wheel on the way home.”
Lisa and Ken helped them bring everything in the house when they arrived. They were excited to see what Everett and Courtney had been able to find.
Lisa tried on her camos and boots. “How do I look?”
“Not like my girlfriend,” Ken joked.
Lisa made dinner while the others put away the purchases.
Everett and Courtney were out cold shortly after dark.
***
Everett awoke abruptly in the night to the sound of Lisa’s scream. “Courtney, wake up!”
“I’m awake; what’s going on?”
“Grab a gun and follow me downstairs!” Everett grabbed the HK 36C and slung it over his back as he quickly navigated the ladder down from the loft. Once he made it down, he clicked off the safety and held the rifle at a low-ready position. Courtney was directly behind him with the Ruger. Ken stormed out of the bedroom with the shotgun and surprised Courtney and Everett, who both pointed their guns at Ken.
