Part 21 - May 21 - The Super Store

Prefer to listen? Check out the audio version below:

Carl and Sam drove back up Rt. 1 toward Pine Ridge. The car that had been on fire yesterday was now burned out, the grisly remains of the passenger still strapped in the seat. Carl had planned to stop at Elmwood, a little colonial mill town built on the river, which had powered grist mills during the birth of the town; later that same river had powered the textile mills during the rise of the cotton industry. The little town boasted one of those massive monster stores—the Shop Smart Superstore—just on the outskirts of town, where Sam and Carl could find most of the supplies they needed for the children.

Carl turned off Rt. 117 onto the old road and into town. The scene they witnessed could have been staged for some science fiction disaster movie, with bodies lying about the streets and sidewalks, people immobilized in a final moment of performing some common daily activity. Carl drove around the few cars that had ceased operations when the net had crashed. Sam got out and walked in front of the bus to move some of the people who lay in the street so Carl could drive on. She would check each one to see if they were alive, then carefully move them to the sidewalk. Not everyone had a pulse. Sam moved everyone reverently onto the sidewalk so they could continue.

They slowly made their way to the Shop Smart Superstore, where Carl pulled the bus right up to the front doors. The eerie quiet of the parking lot made every little hair on Sam’s body stand up. There was the same random pattern of cars scattered around the lot as they had seen on the roads and streets. There were not many cars in the lot, and most of those were in the parking spaces where drivers had left them to do their early morning shopping. Sam noted that the employees’ parking lot was only about one-eighth full, which should mean that there would be very few bodies inside—she hoped.

Sam lamented for the hundredth time: There has to be someone else alive. We can’t be the only ones that survived. But the complete silence was overwhelming. She loved her cabin for its quiet and had no patience for chaotic people noise and their constant drama, but this was too quiet even for her. The silence at her cabin was a natural silence; this wasn’t natural. This felt wrong, and it disturbed her to her very core.

“Hey,” Carl called. “You alright?” He was looking at Sam with concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay, I guess.” Sam shook her head. “This just can’t be real, Carl,” she whispered. “I know it’s real, but deep inside, I can’t accept it. All these people…” She left the statement unfinished.

Carl came over and put his arm around the young woman’s shoulders. “I have a hard time accepting it too, kiddo. Let’s get this over with and go get that bratty pony of yours before he tears down that little barn for whatever crazy idea pops into his pea brain.”

Sam nodded and smiled. “He is a brat. All right, let’s split that list and get this over with. I’ll go start on the underwear, pajamas, and socks. You go check those refrigerators and start on the food. We’ll just line up the shopping carts and we’ll check out together. Visa or MasterCharge?” she quipped.

Carl chuckled. “Don’t look at me for a credit card. I went back to cash just to make the cashiers freak out trying to calculate the change.”

“You’re evil, you know that,” Sam laughed.

They each grabbed a shopping cart and proceeded to their designated areas of the store. Sam looked at the list Nancy and Helen had given her, took a cart, and started packing pajamas, underwear, socks, tees, pants—the first cart was overflowing a quarter of the way through her half of the list, even with her carefully packing the items to maximize the load. She wheeled the first cart up to the front door and had a momentary feeling of being a thief as she passed the cash register with the cashier slumped over the counter.

She grabbed two more carts and headed for the shoes and socks department. Nancy had said just to get the bare necessities and she would bring the children back to pick up things another day. Sam looked at a woman lying on the floor, her eyes staring straight ahead as she panted in shallow breaths. Sam kneeled down and placed a hand on the woman’s forehead in a soothing gesture. Not knowing what to say, she whispered, “I’m sorry,” after a moment, then stood up and went back to work.

Carl brought his first load to the door and found that Sam had three carts full of children’s clothes ready to go. He had checked the refrigerated foods area first and found the backup system was working and the perishable foods would be safe for now. If they could get back here soon and freeze all that food, then they could store it for the winter. It would give them some time to teach the children to become self-sufficient.

After checking the meats and frozen foods display areas, he loaded up with cereals, granola bars, and whatever else he could figure out from the list. Whatever happened to meat and potatoes? He turned a corner and looked down an aisle of cookies and crackers. Well, I like cookies, so I’m going to get cookies whether those women put it on the list or not. Cookies sounded a lot better than protein bars.

He had gotten to the point of just walking by the bodies, but he suddenly stopped—was that a whimper coming from that body? Carl stepped closer and saw a small hand clinging to the woman’s arm. He knelt down, leaning over the woman, and looked into the bright blue eyes of a little girl. Her face was streaked with dried tears; she shrank away, eyes opening wide in terror. She had to be about four years old and had been here all this time, alone with her mother’s unresponsive body.

“It’s alright,” Carl said gently. He held out his big hands toward the little girl, but she shrank away, fresh tears starting to flow again. Her little body trembled as her hands clutched her mother’s tighter, shrinking back as far as she could from Carl’s offered hands.

Again, Carl gently murmured, “It’s alright. My name is Carl. What’s your name?” The child continued to stare at him in wild terror as fresh tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Carl considered the frightened child, alone all day and night here. He had to get her away from her mother’s body.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, and opened one of the bags of cookies, offering her one. She stared at the offered food and back at Carl. “It’s alright—you can have it. Would you like to have some milk with that?” He turned to the cart and realized he had not made it to the milk aisle yet. Shit, we don’t need milk.

“We could walk over to the milk aisle and get some milk; would you like that?” This time Carl’s query received a response, and the little girl nodded. She still had a death grip on her mother, but she was starting to respond. “You know, my favorite cookie is this one.” He pulled a bag of fudge-striped cookies out of the cart. He watched as her eyes followed the package. “Would you like one of these?” Again, she nodded. “I could sure use some milk with these.”

He held his hand out with the cookie, and she tentatively reached for it. He let her eat before trying to get her to take his hand to go get milk. She needed fluids—and dry pants from the looks of the wet floor she was sitting on. However, the priority was to detach her from her mother if she was going to have any chance to survive. He thought of Nancy wanting to shield the children from just this kind of trauma. Here is Mrs. Jackson’s worst fear sitting right in front of me. Kids should be allowed to be just kids as long as they could.

It took one more try, but Carl finally coaxed the child to take his hand, and very gently he guided her down the aisle toward the dairy department, encouraging her all the way to ease her fears. He found a package of cups, bowls, and spoons and got her a cup of milk. He grabbed a box of cereal that looked like a child’s favorite and filled up a bowl. He managed to get her to eat and continued to speak to her as reassuringly as possible.

With the little girl in hand, he went in search of Sam—they needed to change her pants and get clean, dry, warm clothes on her. He could not go back for that cart of food with the child, so he’d have Sam take her, then he could go back for his loaded cart.

Sam turned to see Carl walking down the aisle with the little girl in his arms. She had her arms wrapped around Carl’s neck and was burrowed into his shoulder. Sam smiled—she had seen Carl play Santa Claus and the children would climb all over him, and he loved it.

Carl grinned. “I got a little extra bonus in aisle seven. Could you take her so I can go back and get my cart? I don’t want to take her back there.”

Sam held her arms out for the child, saying, “Hello,” and the little girl whimpered a fearful whine and clung to Carl even tighter. Carl patted her back gently and spoke softly to her. “This is Sammie—she’s my friend. She’ll take care of you while I go get my groceries.” But the little girl gripped him even tighter and started crying anew.

Sam looked at Carl with a smile. “What aisle were you in? I’ll meet you at the front door. I think we have most of the stuff we need for now.” She pointed to a cart full of a variety of packages of diapers and baby supplies.

Carl and Sam managed to get the little girl cleaned up and changed into dry clothes. Carl told her to stay put on one of the bus seats while they loaded the supplies. They wheeled the supplies onto the bus, carts and all, with the use of some ramps Sam had taken from the auto supply department. Finally, they slid the ramps up the bus aisle and under the carts, then started down the main street to get back to the highway to pick up the horses in Pine Ridge.

They had only driven about three blocks into Elmwood when Sam abruptly shouted, “Stop the bus!” She stood at the top of the steps. “Let me out.”

Carl looked at her in bewilderment. “What the—”

“Open the door,” Sam demanded again, and was out the door and jogging back down the street, back the way they had come. Carl watched in the rearview mirrors; he could not imagine what had set Sam off. He continued to watch her as she entered a shop and then saw the sign over the door: Pet Store and Supplies.

He turned to the little girl. “Okay, listen, I need to call you something, so can you tell me your name?” She nodded but still did not speak. “Okay, well, I guess you leave me no choice—I’ll just have to use my secret weapon.” He pulled a candy bar from his pocket. Her eyes widened and locked on the candy bar. “Name first, then the candy bar. Okay?”

She looked up into his face and back to the candy bar. “Cyndy,” she said in a small voice.

“Well, Cyndy, I’m not entirely sure what my friend Sammie is up to, but knowing her, she’s going to release all the animals in that pet shop. What do you say we go help her?” he asked as he unwrapped the candy bar and handed it to her.

Carl backed the bus up to the front of the pet store. “Are you ready to go to the pet store?” Carl asked. Cyndy nodded, and with the candy in one hand and clinging to Carl’s hand with a tight grip, they stepped off the bus and walked into the pet store.

Carl entered the shop, and Sam was opening cages with animals that had been trapped inside without fresh food or water for over a day. She locked eyes with Carl, and he could see she was determined to take care of these animals. She had released the mice and rats—they would have to survive on their own. She then grabbed two pet carriers and started loading them with bunnies, hamsters, guinea pigs, and ferrets, grouping as many animals into the carriers as she could.

“Whoa, Sammie, what are you going to do with all these?” Carl exclaimed.

“Well, I figured if those kids squealed over some stuffed animals last night, they’ll go into epileptic fits over live pets. Besides, this will give them something to think about besides themselves. Animals are great listeners.” Sam smiled as she cuddled a small, squirming bundle of mewing fluff. “Plus, the best way to teach a kid responsibility is to let them take care of a pet of their own.” She placed the kitten into a carrier with several others, then grabbed two more large pet carriers and headed across the shop to the cages that held the puppies.

Carl looked down at Cyndy. “Well, should we go help Sammie take care of these puppies and kittens?” The little girl stuffed the last bit of chocolate in her mouth, then smiled up at Carl with brown-stained lips and nodded. Carl grabbed another large pet carrier with his free hand, and he and Cyndy followed Sam.