Page 100 of Bound in Ashes

Travis huffed. “Fine. We’re grabbing anything that could be useful but looking for medicine, especially antibiotics, pain meds, cold meds, bandages, and such.”

He sat in the back seat next to Miles, his knee bouncing with a nervous, frantic energy that made the upholstery squeak.

“Yeah, and don’t⁠—”

“But I been thinking,” Travis cut Jack off, his voice too loud in the confined space, “We should all just grab what we can and get the fuck—” he glanced at me in the rearview mirror and smiled with embarrassment, “get the hell out of there.”

Jack grabbed the handle above the door and squeezed. “See, Travis, that was your first mistake. Don’t think. Do what the fuck I tell you to do.”

Travis laughed. “I got it. Just trying to help out however I can. I appreciate what Levi did for all of us, especially those girls, and with him being sick and all⁠—”

“Travis?” Jack’s voice lowered the temperature at least thirty degrees.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

The truck’s interior fell into silence, and I welcomed it. We’d been in the car for twenty minutes and Travis had already tap danced on my last nerve.

But I wouldn’t take the blame. I tried to convince Jack to keep this tight, but he said we needed the hands and he wanted to see what Travis and the others were made of. This was the test run.

I hoped it proved fruitful.

Uncle Levi had spiked a fever two days in a row. Lourdes brewed him tea that seemed to help, and Bridget had her own recipe to try. But he needed real medicine, and I needed something besides worrying to do.

I circled the building twice like Jack ordered. It was a standalone drug store with four spots out front and an overflow lot out back. The entire area was empty, desolate, with weeds starting to grow out of the concrete.

The windows weren’t broken, and I took that as a good sign. But even still, the building was a husk of itself, as dead as this dead world.

We got out, and Miles clutched his shotgun and then checked the blade at his side.

“You know the plan,” Jack said, killing the engine. “In and out. No looting for shit we don’t need. If you see a threat, you call it out. Do not engage unless you have to.”

He pinned Travis with his gaze. “Do you understand?”

“Loud and clear,” Travis said, racking the slide on his pistol with a little too much flourish.

Jack moved first, on full alert. He checked the dumpsters and then banged on the brown metal door. Then he stood, waiting, each second that ticked by intensifying the moment.

He nodded and together, we circled the building. Jack pried the automatic doors open with a crowbar and then whistled.

I peered into the darkness, seeing nothing.

Heard nothing.

Jack flicked on a flashlight and we stepped inside. Dust floated in the air, iridescent in the light that cut through the room.

The air was musty and stale, with a sickeningly sweet mix of mold and rotten fruit almost choking in its intensity.

Travis coughed, but swallowed it down when Jack looked at him.

The store was disconcertingly neat.

Sure, there was debris, a few displays that had been knocked over, but otherwise, all things being equal, it was pristine.

“Miles, Asia, two carts each, fill them up. Travis, back door. Do not move until I say we’re clear.”

“On it,” Travis said, marching to the rear of the store with his chest puffed out.