Page 102 of After the Burn

“What a douche,” Wren said, walking even with me.

Now we were thinking alike?

“He has his reasons.” Why was I defending the ass?

We walked a little farther in silence when I saw a small country grocery store. “I’m going to check it out.”

“You know that place has been picked clean.” Lucas looked at me like I was an idiot.

The others had walked about a hundred yards ahead of us.

“Maybe, but there might have been things that were overlooked.” I cautiously approached the building. “Tell Adrian and Beck I’ll head their way when I’m finished.”

“I’ll go with you.” Wren stuffed the chicken into her backpack and pulled out a knife.

I nodded and knocked on the door, trying to draw out any infected that might be in the building, with Max close on my heels.

“You’re such a brat.” Lucas growled, stomping up to the door. “Adrian would kill me if I let you go in alone.”

I didn’t bother to respond and carefully opened the door. The smell coming out of the building was enough to set off my gag reflex.

“Damn, that’s rank.” Wren gagged. “Smells like straight-up ass.” She turned her head and whispered over her shoulder. “Hold your nose, Mojo.”

I ignored the crazy at my back and looked around. The little grocery store had probably been charming once. A faded Coca-Cola sign still hung crooked above the porch, its red paint bleached pink by years of Texas sun. One of the front windows had shattered completely, leaving jagged teeth of glass clinging to the frame.

The air inside was a stale mix of mildew, rotting wood, and something that had died long ago.

Bare metal shelves stretched toward the back of the store, stripped so clean they gleamed beneath a layer of dust. A rusted shopping cart lay on its side in the middle of the aisle, one wheel still spinning lazily when I nudged it with my boot.

Handwritten price tags dangled from empty hooks, advertising canned beans for ninety-nine cents and fresh peaches that hadn’t existed in months. Behind the counter, an old cash register sat open, its drawer hanging crooked after someone had pried every dollar from it, as if there were anywhere to spend it now.

Idiots.

“Told you this was a lost cause.” Lucas kicked an empty can across the floor.

I ignored him, determined to find something useful.

Just when I thought I’d have to listen to his shit until the end of time, I noticed a rack of seed packets knocked onto the floor. Most had been stepped on or soaked by rain blowing through the broken window, but a few remained sealed. I stuffed them into my pack.

Six months ago, they would’ve been worthless. Now they might feed someone.

Lucas snorted when he saw the seeds, but didn’t comment.

I looked around for a few more moments, but I saw nothing else of use.

“Where did your crazy-ass sister go?” Lucas smirked and headed toward the back of the store.

“Hilarious, dickhole.” I paused and listened.

“What?” Lucas stopped too.

I didn’t know what to tell him. The silence felt…wrong.

When I looked at Max, I saw the hair on his back had bristled.

“Robin?” Wren called in a quiet voice.

“She probably found another stuffed pet,” Lucas muttered under his breath. “Maybe this one can lead us to a safe place to sleep tonight.”