One Second After [38]
He looked at the manager.
"Just take it, Doc; it's OK."
John paused, curious.
"Why are you here, Ernie?" He motioned to the darkened store. The elderly couple slowly dragged the trash bag full of defrosted food: the air around him was thick with the rising scent of decay.
Ernie looked at him, slowly shaking his head.
"Don't know, Doc. Habit, I guess. No family. Dolores and the kids left me last year. Just habit, I guess."
John nodded his thanks and tossed the loot into the backseat of the car. Backing up to the Dollar Store, he went in and found much the same chaos, this store torn apart, with no one inside.
"Who's in there?"
Turning, he saw Vern Cooper, one of the town police, looking through the broken front window.
"It's me, Vern, John Matherson." "Out of there now, sir."
He came out and felt a change, a profound change in his world. Vern had always been so easygoing, almost a bit of the town's "Barney Fife." Now he was carrying a shotgun and it was half-raised, not quite pointing at John but almost.
"Just looking around, Vern."
"John, I could arrest you for looting."
"What?"
"Just that, John. It got real bad here last night." "Yeah, I heard."
"Just get out of here and go home, John," Vern sighed.
John didn't hang around to ask for details and did as Vern "suggested."
At the U-Rent store they had already sold out of extra propane tanks, and John didn't even bother to go into the hardware store; it was utter chaos, with a line out the door and halfway down the block. The mere fact that he had a car that moved caused nearly everyone to turn and look at him, a reaction that made him nervous. So he just turned around and went home.
The rock salt was a golden find, he realized, and they had then unpacked all the meat, salted it down, then repacked it. Next had come a wood detail, for sooner rather than later he knew the propane for the grill would run out, and by the end of the day they were all exhausted.
He had promised Jen they'd go see Tyler today, then make a run up to her house to get some clothes and of course, check on the cat, so John got back in the car. It was only a short drive up to the nursing home, just about a mile. They passed half a dozen abandoned cars, a family walking by in the opposite direction, mother and father both pushing supermarket shopping carts, one with two kids inside, the other stacked with some few family treasures. Who they were he didn't know, where they were going he could not figure out, nor did he slow to find out.
Again, such a change. A week ago, seeing a couple like that he'd have pulled over asked if they needed a lift; the sight was so pathetic.
As they pulled into the parking lot of the nursing home John instantly knew something was terribly wrong. Three people were wandering about outside. At the sight of them he could see they were patients, shuffling, confused, one of them naked.
"My God, what is going on here?" Jen gasped.
John started to go for the nearest of the wanderers, to guide her back inside, but Jen shouted for him to follow her.
And the moment he opened the door, he knew something was horribly wrong. The stench was overwhelming, so bad that he gagged, backed out, and gasped for breath.
Jen, made of far sterner stuff, just stood in the doorway.
"Take a few deep breaths. I'll be down in Tyler's room."
John waited for a moment, tempted to light a cigarette. He held back, having gone through five packs in just two days. That left him six packs plus two cartons and he was already beginning to count each one.
He took another deep breath, braced himself, and went in. Again the stench, feces, urine, vomit. He gasped, struggled, nearly vomiting, and fought it down.
The corridor, which a week before had been so brightly lit and spotless, was dark, a large linen gurney parked in a side alcove the source of the worst of the smell. He quickly walked past it, turned the corner, and reached the west