There’s No Place Like Home - Michael Robertson Page 0,44
off.
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The convenience store had been as looted as the rest of the city. Instead of pointing this out to Lola, Michael followed her in and kept his mouth shut.
As soon as they entered the shop, Michael stumbled backwards and grabbed his nose in a tight pinch. An acrid and sickly sweet smell hung in the air. “What the hell is that stink?”
A couple of steps ahead of him, Lola pointed down at the floor.
Michael balked when he rounded the next corner and saw what she was pointing at. The rotting body of an old woman lay in the aisle. Skinny and wrinkly, the woman’s mouth hung wide, and the skin on her face had sunk into every crevice of her skull. Blood had stopped pumping through her veins a long time ago.
Although Lola stepped over her, Michael held back and continued to stare. This store didn’t seem like the best place to be; it had nothing worth taking. When he opened his mouth to suggest they leave, the sound of footsteps entered the shop and stopped him dead.
Both Lola and Michael stared at one another as they listened.
“Why are we checking here again?” a man said, his voice both rough and deep.
Another man replied. “Would you rather be hanging around at the warehouse all day every day?”
Michael froze.
Sell Out
Michael pushed himself harder against the wall in the dark corner. For what good it did. If someone came far enough into the shop, it didn’t matter how hard he pressed himself against a wall; they’d see him.
Gruff voices accompanied by heavy footsteps moved toward them.
“Stop bloody sulking, will ya? At least we’re out in the city. We have an excuse to get out of the warehouse every day. Imagine being one of the poor bastards who has to ask Julius’ permission every time they want to leave. Fuck that! I’d rather search the same shop a thousand times than have to go begging to that prick.”
“Yeah, I know; it just seems like the city has been picked pretty clean. How long will it be before he gets fed up with us coming back empty-handed?”
“We’ll just have to work harder at finding him some more boys.”
With the looters getting closer, Michael’s heart beat as if trying to punch free of his chest.
When he caught a glimpse of the men just an aisle down from them, he pushed against the wall again, his feet slipping on the gritty floor.
Three heads of dirty hair bobbed with their steps. Three men against a girl and a little boy—a little boy who was worth their daily freedom. A little boy who was even more of a catch than most because he was a deserter.
One of the men kicked over a shelving unit. A loud crash followed the groan of it passing its tipping point.
It took everything Michael had not to yell out.
They kicked a second shelving unit over with another loud crash. Hopefully, George would hear it.
Dirty laughs bubbled from the men’s throats, and one of them spoke again. “At least we get to kick the shit out of things while we’re out here. I often pretend I’m kicking Julius.”
When Lola wrapped her arms around him, a hot lump of grief stuck in Michael’s throat. Despite her moods, she wouldn’t let any harm come to him. He shouldn’t have thought otherwise—not after everything they’ve been through. Michael settled into her hug.
The dirty heads got closer, seemingly determined to check out the entire shop. Lola started to shake too.
Another crash sounded out, but this time it came from outside.
“What was that?” one of the men said.
“Fucked if I know.”
“Should we check it out?”
The pause seemed to last an age and all Michael could hear was his own pulse.
“Yeah.”
Two of the men walked back toward the entrance, but one of them remained. Not only did he remain, but he continued searching the shop. Michael’s mouth dried, and Lola’s grip tightened around him. The man continued forward.
When he rounded the corner, the man stopped and stared down at the pair. He grinned, his dirty mouth surrounded by a scraggly ginger beard and pasty white skin. “Well, well, look what we have here then.”
When Lola stood up, Michael got to his feet with her.
The other two men came at their colleague’s call. One of them was a skinny black man and the other one, an older white man with gray hair. All three of them wore the same predatory smile as they took the pair in. In this new world,