Chapter Four
Being outside and exposed gave Chloe the willies. Could the Progg see them from the Arch? Were they watching with powerful binoculars? Could they attack from there? She pictured them knocking out a view window and setting up a vaporizer like a machine gun.
With great relief, she stepped up to the porch of the neighboring house. The front door was locked tight, so they skirted around the side to the rear where they discovered a swinging doggy door. Sandy couldn’t fit, but Chloe squeezed through and unlocked the big door.
In the pantry, they filled their bags with tuna, canned chunk chicken, cereal, corned beef hash, peanut butter, and canned fruits and vegetables.
“I’m going to check out the closets,” Sandy said when the shopping bags were full.
“Great! I’ll be there in a sec. I’ll make sure we didn’t miss anything good.”
With Sandy gone, she snagged a box of granola bars, bottled water, and a can of mixed nuts, which was light enough to carry and would provide good protein.
She found Sandy in the master bedroom stripped down to her underwear trying on clothes. “The woman dressed like an old lady—but there are a few tops that aren’t hideous that will fit me.”
“I think she was an old lady.” She pointed to a picture of an elderly couple on the dresser and felt a pang. A lot of her dog grooming customers had been elderly shut-ins.
Sandy laughed. “That explains it, then.”
She could use some clothes, but if they fit Sandy, who was a couple of sizes larger, they wouldn’t fit her. “Any shoes?” She’d put countless miles on her Crocs, and they hadn’t been new to start with.
“Ugly ones, and they wouldn’t fit me anyway. Too small.”
Chloe found a new pair of lace-up running shoes still in the box, only a half-size larger than her normal size.
She doubted the elderly lady did much jogging.
She probably had bunions or corns. Chloe swapped her worn rubber slip-ons for the lady’s sneakers and snagged some socks from the dresser.
She also took a pair of slip-on sneakers, a little worn, but good for emergencies.
“Fire shoes,” her mom would have called them. If the house caught fire in the middle of the night, you didn’t worry whether your clothes matched or what kind of shoes you put on—you grabbed something and ran.
Progg shoes. In her nightmares, she’d awaken to find an alien coming in through the window. If that ever happened, she wouldn’t stand a chance, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a pair of fire shoes anyway.
Sandy, back in her own clothes, rummaged through the lady’s jewelry box.
“I think this stuff is real!” She held out her hand to display a diamond ring, one with rubies, and another with a giant emerald.
“She wore ugly clothes, but she had good taste in jewelry. You want some? There’s plenty for both of us. ”
How generous to offer me someone else’s stuff. “That’s okay.” The owner was dead, and Chloe had no qualms about taking what she needed to survive, but raiding a jewelry box felt too much like stealing.
As Sandy donned a diamond pendant, Chloe focused on the chunky silver medallion around her neck. “What’s the deal with Zack’s medallion?”
Sandy shrugged. “It’s cool, that’s all. Ready to go?” She pulled the pillow out of its case and shoved her acquisitions into it.
Chloe put her Crocs, the fire shoes, and extra socks in her backpack. “Ready.”
Returning to the trio’s house, she marveled at the comfort and padding of her new sneakers. I knew my shoes were wearing out; I didn’t realize how bad they were.
“I was about to come look for you,” Zack said when they entered. “You were gone longer than I expected.”
“Clothes shopping.” Sandy swung the pillowcase.
“I should have guessed.” Zack grinned.
They would have been gone longer if Sandy had found clothing she liked.
“I got some jewelry.” Sandy showed off her hands, a ring on every finger.
“We have about an hour before we have to leave,” he said. Neither of them moved to put away the groceries, but instead, vanished into the bedroom.
If she’d been staying, she would have put away the food, but as they obviously didn’t care, and she wouldn’t be eating it, she left the bags on the counter.
She’d washed the rice pot before leaving, but the other had held the rice and bean mixture.
The food had been eaten by Caleb and maybe Zack, the dirty saucepan abandoned on the stove.
If they keep doing that, they’re going to attract bugs and mice.
Not my problem. I’m leaving. And if they have an infestation, they can move to another house.
With Caleb occupied by another video game, she went to her room and readied her backpack for the morning.
Thankfully, she’d done her laundry, so she had clean clothes.
She switched off her phone to save the battery and slipped it into an outside pocket, and, after a debate with her conscience, added the lady’s eReader.
Okay, I’m a hypocrite. I won’t steal jewelry, but I’ll take books.
Lastly, she tucked a water bottle into the elastic mesh on the side.
Hopefully, she’d get a good night’s sleep. She’d hit the sack as soon as they returned from meeting the new people so she could be up and gone at the crack of dawn. She’d leave a note explaining why she’d left.
I can’t believe they didn’t mention there were Progg in the area. She surmised because they weren’t worried about it, they assumed she wouldn’t be either. They weren’t just chill; they were nuts. They had to be insane to stick around.
She checked the time. T-minus fifteen minutes. She went into the main room to wait.
* * * *
At 6:45 exactly, Zack announced, “Time to go. We can’t be late.” He rubbed the scar on the inside of his wrist.
Regimented much? How could they be late? The people didn’t know they were coming.
To her surprise, all three donned medallions. I guess I’m not in the club and don’t warrant a necklace. Not that she wanted to wear a chunky metal coaster. They were huge. Besides, it didn’t matter. She was leaving. “What does the writing mean?” She didn’t recognize the strange symbols.
“Come on, let’s go. Time’s a wastin’.” Caleb ushered them outside.
Filled with elegant, stately homes, the neighborhood had obviously been one of wealth. Although lawns and landscaping were overgrown with drifts of dead leaves clogging flower beds and piling up against houses and fences, she could tell the homes had been well cared for.
She heard a reassuring chirp of birds, but there were no cats peeking out of windows, no dogs barking from behind fences. Domestic pets had been killed with their owners.
Leaving the development, they exited onto a wide street, and, from there, ventured into a commercial area in the opposite direction from the grocery store where she’d first met them.
“How are we doing on time?” Caleb asked.
They paused while Zack pulled a phone from his pocket. “We’re a little early.”
Chloe shifted anxiously from foot to foot, the hair on the back of her neck prickling.
She did not like being outside. As she scanned the street for suspicious movement, her gaze riveted on a bicycle shop.
A bike! Why didn’t I think of that before?
Every trafficked street and highway had been rendered undrivable due to smashed vehicles. But a bicycle could go around the cars.
Please be unlocked. She sidled toward the shop.
“Where are you going?” Caleb demanded.
“Just looking around.” She flashed a vague gesture.
Sandy strayed in the opposite direction.
“And where are you going?” Zack asked.
“The clothing store.” She pointed to a boutique. “You said we were a little early.”
They’d been through an apocalypse. Did anything matter less than fashion? Perhaps fashion was Sandy’s crutch like Caleb’s video games. A way to cope.
“This is like herding cats,” Zack said.
Chloe gave a little tug on the shop door handle. Open! Perfect. She’d grab a bike in the morning and hit the road.
“We’d better go,” Zack said.
“Baby, can’t I take a quick peek inside, please?” Sandy said.
“We can do that later.”
“It will be dark then. I won’t be able to see.”
Zack sighed. “A quick peek. I mean it. Quick.” He looked at Chloe and Caleb. “You two go on ahead. Sandy and I will rendezvous with—you at the mattress shop in a few minutes.”
“Catch Some Z’s Mattress Emporium, right?”
“Right.”
Chloe was glad to be moving again. She disliked standing around, exposed. “How far is it from here?” she asked Caleb.
“Half a mile? Maybe less.”
City streets resembled auto salvage yards, although not as orderly. Smashed cars sprawled every which way, across the road and even the sidewalk. Intersections were a tangled mess. At a cupcake shop, a car had crashed through the window.
“Sometimes I still can’t believe this happened,” Chloe said. “Like it’s a horrible nightmare. I just want to wake up, feed my cat, and go to work.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Life is different now, that’s for sure.”
“I’m sorry about your wife and daughter,” she said, hoping she wasn’t opening a wound.
“I don’t have a wife and daughter. I was never married.”
Huh? Zack and Sandy said you did. “My bad. Somehow I got that impression. But, you are from Chicago, right?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you used to do for a living?”
“Political strategist.” He chuckled. “My job was to fuck with the opposition—dig up dirt, play dirty tricks, plant false stories on social media, distract from issues they didn’t want the voters to notice. It was a great gig. A lot of fun.”
Her jaw dropped.
He laughed. “You’re shocked?”
“Uh, yeah. That wasn’t what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
She lifted her shoulder. “Maybe youth counselor?”
He roared like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Had Zack and Sandy lied to make him more likable? He certainly wasn’t likeable now. Or was Caleb the one telling stories?
“How did you meet Zack and Sandy?”