Page 99 of What Remains

Cara offered a nervous smile. "Let's hope they know what they're doing."

Josie remained by the trucks, her eyes never leaving the alley where the men had vanished. Minutes crawled by. The wind picked up, drifting snow through the narrow passage, and her knuckles white on the rifle as she listened to the silence.

Then Seth reappeared and motioned them forward. "You're going to want to see this."

They followed him around the corner. The alley opened into a vast concrete yard dominated by a distribution warehouse, its bulk completely hidden from the road by the storefronts. Several semi-trailers still sat backed into the bays—one door hanging partially open, another sealed tight. A faded company logo covered the side: Mountain Outdoor Distribution.

Jay's eyes widened. "This supplied the store."

"And probably half the state," Cara added.

Cade climbed into the open trailer first, his flashlight sweeping across stacks of shrink-wrapped pallets. He stopped. "Well..." A rare smile crossed his face. "...I'll be damned."

Seth climbed up beside him. Pallet after pallet filled the trailer: cases of freeze-dried meals, portable camp stoves, water purification systems, fuel canisters, sleeping pads, boxes of emergency blankets, generators, and—in unopened crates at the very back—a stack of compact solar panels.

Jay stared into the trailer, mouth agape. "We didn't hit a jackpot. We found the warehouse that stocked the jackpot."

Cara laughed, the sound echoing bright through the loading bay. "This changes everything."

"It changes the cabin," Josie agreed softly. "No more wondering if we'll have enough. No more rationing every little thing." Her voice caught slightly on the next words. "We can actually build something."

Cara's laugh echoed, bright and startlingly loud in the concrete bay. It was a sound none of them had heard in weeks.

The group moved at once, a surge of purpose cutting through the momentary relief. Jay climbed onto the forklift still parked beside the dock, and miraculously it sputtered to life after a few tries. He grinned like a kid. "I have always wanted to drive one of these."

"You've never driven one?" Cara asked.

"Nope."

"You should've led with that."

"Relax. How hard can it be?"

The forklift lurched sideways, nearly clipping a stack of pallets. Cara pressed her fingers to her temple. "Oh my God..."

Even Seth laughed. "I've changed my mind. You carry boxes."

Jay climbed sheepishly back down. "Fair."

While the others worked, Cade walked to the edge of the loading dock, resting a hand on the railing as he scanned the rooftops beyond the shopping center. Seth joined him a few minutes later.

"You still don't like it."

"No."

"Neither do I."

For several moments neither man spoke. They simply watched the silent town together—two Marines, two strangers, seeing the same things.

Finally, Cade broke the silence. "The world's too quiet before it gets loud."

Seth nodded, understanding exactly what the man meant.

The certainty settled in, cold and heavy: the loud part was coming.

The trucks couldn't hold another ounce.

Camping gear sat strapped beneath cargo nets, cases of ammunition wedged between toolboxes and fuel cans. Every backpack, sleeping bag, propane heater, water filter, and winter coat had been arranged with such care that the beds of both vehicles resembled supply depots more than anything meant to travel a road. Jay stepped back to admire the work, hands on his hips, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.