Isolation (Book 3): Starting Anew, page 20
part #3 of Isolation Series
Even so, it was a distractingly appealing scent. He hadn't been close enough to a woman to smell her like this since he and Ellie had still been sleeping in the same bed, and it made him uncomfortably aware of her presence in the tent.
She's effectively a roommate and you're in a committed relationship with Gen, he told himself sternly. Go to sleep.
It took a bit longer, but finally he did.
✽✽✽
The store they'd decided to check out last night turned out to be a great find.
On the one hand, it was about half empty from whatever shopping rush had occurred at the beginning of the Zolos crisis, before an apparent contamination had closed its doors and led officials to plaster the exterior with warning notices. But on the other hand, a lot of the food that had been bought up was the perishable stuff, to Nick's surprise, and the nonperishable stuff that remained could fill a dozen convenience stores.
Then there was the stockroom and loading area in back, which was practically bursting at the seams. Nick wasn't sure if large chain stores operated by different procedures than the last minute shipping to keep shelves stocked that he'd heard about, or if this particular one had responded to the Zolos crisis by stocking up, but either way it was a treasure trove of desperately needed supplies.
After the last few days of slim pickings, the sight was a tremendous boost to their spirits.
Of course it was a disaster when Chase opened the door to the freezer area, sending all of them fleeing for the exits at the stench of rotten food. Nick stuck around just long enough to shut the freezer door and the door between the store and the stockroom before joining the others. That forced him to endure the stench for long enough that he resolved to try open the loading doors into the stockroom from the outside, so he didn't have to experience the full nauseating force of that again.
Hopefully it wouldn't linger in the air the entire time they worked, or even permeate into the food they were going to scavenge. Hadn't he warned Chase already about not opening fridges?
“Okay, guys, here's the plan,” he said as he joined the others in the darkened interior of the store. “Chase, you and Charlie head around the back and find a way to open up the stockroom and air it out. The rest of us will get to work emptying out the storefront.”
The two men reluctantly headed back outside to circle the huge building and poke around in the back, while Nick and Val returned to the aisle that had pasta, sauces, rice, beans, and other cooking ingredients. The brothers took the next aisle over, junk food.
Since they'd just been checking out the store they'd left the hand trucks and piano dollies in the vehicles, so Nick contented himself with taking an armload of stuff outside so he could grab a hand truck. Val stayed behind to begin moving all the things worth taking to the end of the aisle, sorting out the food that had gone bad like tortillas.
They'd already parked the moving trucks with the backs facing the entrance, almost like they knew what they were doing, and he spent a few minutes getting the cargo areas open and the ramps in place.
He came back inside carrying a piano dolly under one arm and dragging a hand truck, pausing at the snack aisle to check on the brothers. “How's it going?”
“Good,” Chet said. “I'd say there's easily enough in this one store to keep us going for a week or more, two trips before dark like the good old days.” He grabbed a candy bar off the shelf, tore it open, and bit off a huge chunk with an appreciative noise.
Nick nodded and dropped the dolly onto its wheels, kicking it his way. “Let's get to work filling our trucks, then.”
“Sounds good.” The young man snagged a couple more things off the shelf. “Let me grab a quick snack first. Cleaning up the mess the storm made of the camp didn't leave much time for br-”
A piercing whistle from the entrance made them both jump in surprise, Chet rushing to join Nick in the main aisle where they had a view of the doors.
He spotted Charlie standing just outside, waving wildly. “Boss, I hear engines! We've got company!”
Chet cursed and started that way, unslinging his AR-15. Nick followed, uncertainly resting a hand on his 9mm but not drawing it. “Let's not assume this is a fight until we see what we're dealing with,” he warned the young man.
Charlie had his revolver drawn, holding it nervously at his side. “You hear me say “engines”, boss?” he demanded. “As in multiple vehicles, traveling together. Unless this is a military or relief convoy, when are you ever going to find people grouping up unless they mean trouble?”
Val and Ben emerged from down their aisles and joined them, the young man holding his hunting .30-30 and the auburn-haired woman in a nervous half-crouch clutching Lila's shotgun, which she'd taken to carrying after the teenager headed back to the quarantine camp.
Chase appeared from around the side of the building just as they joined Charlie, and together they all listened to the steadily growing rumble of engines. Large vehicles, if Nick was any judge.
“Maybe it is a relief convoy,” he said. “Might even be heading to Stanberry to finally help out with the quarantine camp.
He couldn't have been more wrong.
The noise of the approaching vehicles abruptly became a deafening roar as a line of trucks burst into view. They sped down the street past the store, but just before passing the second entrance into the parking lot the lead vehicle braked sharply and veered onto the turnoff with the squeal of tires, the trucks behind following.
Nick cursed and waved towards the store. “Inside, now!”
The others, with more common sense than him, had bolted for safety the moment the trucks turned into the lot. He turned to follow, but he'd barely gone a step before a deafening gunshot from behind made him drop flat on the ground, covering his head protectively.
Probably not the smartest thing to do in this situation, and definitely not the bravest, but the response had been almost instinctive.
He twisted and peeked under one arm as the pickup trucks fanned out to surround the three moving trucks in a semicircle. The vehicles were still screeching to a halt as men poured out, toting shotguns and rifles. A dozen at a glance, which meant a dozen guns raised to point vaguely in his direction.
If Nick hadn't been frozen before, that would've done it.
A few of the faces looked vaguely familiar, but if he had any doubts about who these newcomers were, they were dispelled when a man hopped down from the driver's seat of the lead truck, which had parked directly in front of him.
Jay.
“Well if it isn't the delivery driver!” the bald man called cheerfully, pulling out that huge honking pistol of his and casually waving towards the store. “Looks like you're doing the opposite of a delivery this time, though! Is it possible you're also a filthy looter?”
The man's buddy Larry, climbing out of the passenger's side of the lead truck, wasn't so amused. “Drop it and kick it over!” he barked, pointing at Nick's 9mm.
“Okay!” Nick cautiously climbed to his knees, hands raised, using the motion to shoot a hasty glance over his shoulder to see how his friends were doing.
He couldn't see any of them, which hopefully meant they'd escaped into the safety of the store. Maybe from there they could find a way to escape out the back and flee on foot, abandoning the trucks. And him, although he didn't see what choice they had; much as he would've appreciated the help, he didn't want any of them risking themselves trying to save him.
He slowly pulled his pistol out of its holster and set it on the ground at his feet, then awkwardly came to his feet and kicked it towards the man. The way the gun scraped and clattered made him wince, wondering if it was getting damaged.
“What is this, Jay?” he demanded as it skidded to a stop at Larry's feet.
The Wensbrook leader shrugged lazily. “Seems like it should be fairly obvious. You guys are gathering supplies for Stanberry. Our enemies. It's basic strategy to cut the enemy off from their source of supplies.”
“Besides, we can use that stuff ourselves!” a man by the next truck over called.
In spite of the fact that Nick was surrounded by a dozen or so armed men, he couldn't help but pounce on that. “So you're going to war with us for scavenging your town, but here you are doing the same thing?”
Jay spat his way. “It's an abandoned business, not a bunch of people's houses. Even you should be able to see the difference, delivery boy.” He narrowed his eyes. “You are the guys who looted our town, I'm guessing?”
It seemed kind of pointless to lie under the circumstances, since they'd been caught using the same moving trucks the Wensbrook survivors had probably seen driving out of their town. Not to mention that unless Jay was an idiot he could easily put two and two together.
“We scavenged in Wensbrook,” Nick admitted. “We did it to help the people in the quarantine camp, and we respected your property as much as possible and only took supplies useful for survival. Even so, I regret searching your houses.”
“Since you got caught,” Larry growled.
“From the beginning,” he shot back. “I just want find a peaceful way to resolve this.”
Jay snorted. “You know how. Give us back what you took.”
“You should know that's impossible. We have too many suffering people who need those supplies as a matter of life and death.” Nick took a careful step back. “But my people don't have any problem with you. If you want this store, fine, we'll go.”
“Go somewhere else and supply our enemies?” another man shouted. “You're the guys who looted our houses, so why shouldn't we gun you down right here?”
It was hard not to swallow at that. Nick looked back at Jay. “I like to believe that, angry as you are, you aren't capable of that.”
The Wensbrook leader looked back coldly. “We're not about to murder you and your people in cold blood, Statton,” he said loudly, obviously for the benefit of his men as well. “We don't want that any more than you do. But it's time for you to take these trucks back to your town and park them there for good. Your days of scavenging are over.”
Nick should've just counted himself lucky and gotten out of there with his people. But apparently the urge to try to reason with a clearly unreasonable man, or maybe his followers, was too strong to resist, because he found himself talking.
“What about the quarantine camp?” he asked. “Thousands of innocent people, including Zolos survivors like us. That's who you're hurting by keeping us from scavenging, not anyone in Stanberry.”
For the second time he found himself staring down the barrel of Jay's gun. It was even worse this time; he froze, struggling to keep bladder control and only mostly succeeding.
“Survivors like us?” Jay said, quiet voice as dangerous as the rattle of a rattlesnake. “You don't look like you're having trouble staying on your feet for longer than a half hour at your best. You don't look like you watched everyone you ever loved die next to you while you were unconscious and dying yourself, so you didn't even have a chance to say goodbye!”
Nick raised his hands, swallowing. He had no idea what to say to defuse this situation.
Again, it was Larry who stepped in, gently pushing his friend's gun arm down until the weapon pointed at the ground. He whispered a few words, then stepped back.
The Wensbrook leader slowly holstered his weapon. “Consider this your friendly warning,” he snarled. “Go home and stay out of this. If we see you out scavenging again we'll see if beating you half to death gets our point across. Assuming you don't force us to kill you outright.” He stalked back to his truck, his big friend in tow, leaving Nick's 9mm sitting on the pavement where he'd kicked it.
The other Wensbrook survivors reluctantly returned to their own vehicles. The trucks all rumbled to life and drove out to cluster on the street a not-quite-threatening distance away.
Looked as if they were giving Nick's team space to get in their own vehicles and move away. Although probably best not to dawdle; he could only get that big gun shoved in his face so many times before Jay decided to follow through with the threat.
Shaking and sick from what he'd just gone through, Nick turned to his friends. His trembling legs nearly buckled halfway around, and he tried to recover and hide just how much of an emotional wreck he was by squaring his shoulders and motioning curtly to the faces peeking out through the windows and glass doors. “Let's get out of here.”
The others all inched out cautiously, everyone but Chet trying to keep behind the moving trucks in case the Wensbrook survivors decided to take potshots at them. As for the young man, he came to offer Nick a supporting arm, not fooled at all by his attempt to put up a confident front.
Nick nodded his gratitude and made his way forward to retrieve his gun. It might not have been the best idea since Jay and his goons might've taken it as a threatening move, but he wasn't exactly thinking straight at the moment. He stooped to grab it, wobbled precariously, and would've fallen if Chet hadn't caught him.
His friend bent down and picked up the gun, offering it to him grip-first. The young man's hand was visibly shaking, and in spite of his best attempt at a light tone his voice shook as well. “So, uh, no offense, boss, but I quit.”
Nick barked out a burst of laughter, aware of a slightly hysterical tinge to it. “Yeah, me too.” He took his gun and holstered it; fat lot of good it had done him here.
Patting his friend on the shoulder, he stepped away from him and made his way towards his truck. Chet nodded and hurried over to where his brother was waiting by their truck, quickly climbing inside and starting the engine; Chase and Charlie's truck was already running.
Nick unsteadily climbed into his own vehicle, giving an ashen-faced Val a reassuring nod as he started the engine and put it in gear. The truck lurched and screeched alarmingly when he began moving, and with a start of chagrin he realized he'd left the sliding back door up and the ramp lowered.
Well, he could sort that out when they were well away from the maniacs with guns threatening to kill them all.
He floored it towards the parking lot exit farthest from the Wensbrook survivor's trucks, barely braking as he veered out onto the street in the direction of Stanberry. Halfway through the turn the truck lurched again as it went over a bump, shaking the entire vehicle, and then the dragging sensation disappeared as the ramp must've detached and fallen off.
Well, one problem solved.
As soon as the truck had straightened out he reached a trembling hand to grab his radio, lifting it to his mouth. “Everyone okay? You all get clear without trouble?”
“Clear,” Chet immediately answered. “I managed to copy your trick to shake off our loading ramp, so we can keep going.”
“We're still dragging ours,” Charlie said. “Hopefully it'll shake loose when we go over the next bump.”
“Any sign Jay's following us?” Nick pressed.
There was a long pause, and he could almost feel his team's discomfort at the idea. Val twisted in her seat to look anxiously out the passenger rearview mirror, then actually rolled down the window and leaned out dangerously far. He didn't think she'd be able to see much since they were the lead vehicle, but he appreciated the effort.
Finally Charlie's voice came over the radio. “Looks like one truck, keeping back. Maybe to make sure we go straight back to Stanberry?”
Guess that meant they shouldn't drive straight back to their camp; if they made for the safety of the roadblock then Jay's vehicle would have to break off and leave them alone. “Gotcha,” he said, doing his best to sound confident.
Val rolled the window back up, then leaned over and grabbed his arm in a vise-like grip. “Seriously, Nick, what are we going to do?”
He took an unsteady breath and pushed the talk button on his radio so everyone could hear his answer. “We're going to do what Jay told us to. Go back to Stanberry, tell the Mayor what happened, and then hunker down in camp until this is over.”
“Hunker down?” Chase repeated. “I'll admit I like the sound of that.”
“What about all the people in the quarantine camp who need food?” Charlie argued.
Nick could only shake his head. “Jay's made his position pretty clear, and we can't fight a dozen or more armed men out for blood. If they're not going to allow us to scavenge, this might be the time to throw in the towel and do our three weeks. I'm sure we'd all like to finally be able to be around other people, friends and family, without having to worry about infecting them.”
“I'd like to know how they found us in the first place,” Ben grumbled sourly.
“It's not like there's an abundance of good scavenging prospects within an hour of Stanberry,” Chase offered. “They were probably watching all of them.”
Val shook her head, speaking just to Nick and not bothering with the radio. “I think it'll be nice to be in the safety of town, behind the patrols, with Jay and his cronies running around. I don't want to go through that a second time.” She put her hand on his arm again. “Or see you go through it, either.”
He glanced at her hand. In a way it was comforting to have that human contact after once again staring down the barrel of a pistol. But he was also uncomfortably aware that things with Val were becoming a lot more, ah, intimate than you'd expect from a platonic relationship.
In other circumstances having the chance to bond with a beautiful, goodhearted woman during such difficult times would've been a blessing. But his feelings for Gen remained as strong as ever, and the fact that Val had spent the night in his tent, even if for understandable and innocent reasons, was complicating things.
He hated to do it when his scavenging partner remained so vulnerable, but he was pretty sure he needed to take a step back. The trick would be finding a way to do it without hurting her feelings.
Assuming he didn't have an ego the size of a planet and wasn't completely misreading this situation.
The drive back to Stanberry remained tense with Jay's thugs tailing them, and Nick breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Charlie reported that the Wensbrook truck had peeled off five miles outside of town. He continued on to the roadblock, stopping on the road and hopping down as the patrol volunteers began moving the barricade.
