Last Light (18 page)
Doug didn’t want to think about that.
When someone went for the sheriff, and it seemed that enough people were at the house calming down the woman, Doug went back home.
Kay was waiting at the door. “What happened? Was there another murder?”
“Not this time. The woman who lives there—Brenda Grant— had an intruder, but he got away.”
“The gunshots?”
“They were hers.”
Kay caught her breath. “Did she hit whoever it was? Can she identify him?”
“No, she thinks she missed him. And she didn’t see a thing. It was too dark.”
Kay started to cry and sank down onto the couch. “Oh, what are we going to do?”
He sat down next to her. Rubbing a weary hand across his face, he tried to think of something to say, something to give her some peace. But he wasn’t sure there was any to offer.
Neither Doug nor Kay slept for the rest of that night. While Doug paced from window to window, Kay tried to refocus her thoughts to the Wal-Mart list. She may not be able to do anything about a killer lurking in their neighborhood, but she could at least plan a strategy for getting what they needed at the store.
It wasn’t likely many of the things they needed most would even be on the store shelves, so Kay figured she’d shoot for things others might not think of, things that would make their lives easier if the outage continued. She prioritized her list, then divided it into five small lists—one for each member of the family . . . except Jeff. She had other plans for him.
By the time dawn began to break, Kay’s shoulder muscles ached with fatigue, and she longed to take a nap. As light filtered in through the window, Doug finally seemed to relax.
“Why don’t you go to bed?” she asked him. “We can go to Wal-Mart without you.”
“No, we all need to go. It’s too important.”
She was glad he felt that way. “I’ve made a list of things we can try to get, but we all need to put our heads together and make sure we’ve thought of everything.”
“What time does the store open?”
“Nine o’clock, they said last night.”
He yawned. “You know they’re going to be out of everything.”
“Food and perishables, of course,” she said. “But if we’re smart, we might get some other things we need.”
“Such as?”
She looked down at her lists. “Plastic bins, garbage cans, anything with wheels for carrying lake water. Wagons, dollies, garbage bags, bleach, camping equipment, lanterns, ammunition, candles, matches, axes, saws”—she shrugged—“and a lot of stuff we may not think of until we get there. But we should tell the kids the kind of things we’re looking for, then they can grab them and meet us at the registers.”
“You’re sure the store is taking checks?”
“That’s what they said last night.”
He seemed to consider that for a moment. “I guess they figure they can cash them as soon as the banks open. But that could be awhile, and even when they do, the checks will probably be worthless.”
“Why? We’re good for it. We have plenty of money in our account.”
“Kay, if this lasts as long as I think it might, the whole banking system could collapse. We’re talking economic catastrophe.”
Her mouth fell open. “But they have to give us our money!”
“Not if they don’t have it.”
Kay just stared at him for a moment, realizing he was right. Finally, she swallowed the panic trying to rise inside her. “I can’t think about that right now. I have to focus on Wal-Mart.”
He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Good idea. One thing at a time.”
Doug welcomed the fresh feel of clean clothes when he changed a little while later. He went back downstairs to help Kay flesh out the lists the best he could. Then, when time was growing short, he woke the kids, briefing them one at a time on what needed to be done.
“I don’t want to go,” Beth said. “Can’t I stay home? We’re not gonna be able to get anything. It’s just gonna be crowded and hot.”
“I’m going.” Deni slid out of bed. “I need a million things. Mascara, deodorant, fingernail polish—”
Doug groaned. “Deni, we’re going for necessities. Come on, Beth. Get up.”
He went to Logan’s room, got him out of bed, then headed to Jeff’s.
His son lay facedown on his bed, his sheets tangled around his legs. His mouth was mashed against the pillow, and a wet spot had formed where he’d drooled.
The dull ache of disappointment knotted Doug’s stomach. He touched Jeff’s leg. “Get up, Jeff. Come on. Time to wake up.”
Jeff slowly turned over and squinted up at him. Wincing, he clutched his head.
“It’s called a hangover,” Doug said. “Now get up and get dressed. We have to go to Wal-Mart.”
Jeff turned back over. “I don’t need anything.”
“Get up! I’m not telling you again. Be downstairs in ten minutes, dressed and ready to go.”
Doug went downstairs and ate dry cereal for breakfast, wishing for coffee. But there wasn’t time to get the fire going on the pit.
A few minutes later, the kids had gathered, and Kay doled out their breakfast as she went over the lists she’d made.
“We can’t get all that stuff!” Deni said. “There’s no way.”
“We’ll do the best we can,” Doug told her. “And you can each make substitutions if you see something that would work just as well. Or if you see something we don’t have on the list, and you know it would help us, grab it. Just remember, don’t waste time looking for the obvious stuff. You’ll never get it. Food items are probably already gone. Anything to drink is probably going to be cleared out. So each of you head for the department your mother gives you, and find the things we need.”
“
I
need mascara,” Deni said. “And deodorant.”
Doug didn’t have the patience for her. “We don’t have time for cosmetics.”
“She’s right, Doug.” Kay leaned over the table and made a notation on her list. “Deni, go ahead and go to the hair and makeup aisle. You’ll need to grab some hair dye. I use Fountain of Youth brand, number 43—Soft Brunette.”
“Hair dye?” Doug gaped at his wife. “Shouldn’t we go for the higher priority items first?”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Hey, in about three weeks that
is
going to be a high priority item. Deni, get the other things first, since I doubt there’ll be a run on cosmetics. After you’ve finished the rest of your list, go and grab as many boxes of that color as they have. We don’t know how long this outage will last, and I don’t intend to go gray. And we should get toiletries. Anyone who sees toilet paper should grab as much of it as they can. Also paper towels, plates, cups.”
Jeff scanned the lists. “There’s not a list for me. What do you want me to get?”
“You’re going to stay outside the store and watch our bikes.”
“What?”
He looked at his mother like she was crazy. “Why?”
“Because. We don’t want our bikes stolen, and you can fend off the thieves. You’ll take your shotgun with you and wait until we come back out.”
Jeff groaned. “So how will we get all our loot home?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Doug said.
When they’d finished breakfast, they all mounted their bicycles and headed to Wal-Mart. It was only five miles away, and as they pulled onto the main road leading there, they saw the other bike traffic heading that way. It was going to be a madhouse.
Jeff pulled up beside Doug as they pedaled, zigzagging through the stalled cars. “Dad, I know you’re mad about last night. I was just trying to have a little fun. It’s been really depressing around here. I just went over to Zach’s to swim and be with my friends.”
“After I told you not to.”
“But you were being unreasonable.”
Doug breathed a bitter laugh. “So you bucked my authority and took matters into your own hands, went over there, and got drunk.”
“It’s not that big of a deal, Dad. There’s not all that much else to drink.”
Doug gaped at him. “Oh, that’s rich! You drank beer because you were
thirsty
and there was nothing else to drink. Beautiful.” The kid was clueless. “Bottom line, Son, that’s not going to happen again. We’re in a crisis, and I need your help and support. I’m not going to tolerate your disobedience when lives are at stake.”
They reached the parking lot, full of stalled cars. A mob had already formed in front of the doors, waiting for them to open. “So what are you gonna do, ground me?” Jeff asked. “There’s hardly anything you can take away. I can’t use a television, a phone, a computer, video games . . .”
“I’m not going to ground you, Son. I’m going to work you.”
Jeff moaned. “Well, that’s just great.”
“Your mother and I are tired, so you’re going to take up the slack today.”
Jeff muttered something Doug couldn’t hear as they got to the edge of the crowd.
Almost everyone had a bike. Doug wondered if they planned to take them inside. He led his family to the side of the crowd, and ordered the kids off their bikes. Then he took the chain he’d brought with him, laced it through the wheels, and locked it with a padlock he’d found in his tool box. The key was in his pocket. Hopefully that would keep anyone from grabbing one and flying.
The morning grew hotter as the crowd pressed in, waiting for nine a.m. Though the mood was somewhat lighthearted, everyone wore an expression of stark determination. Doug studied those around them. Were they as organized as his family?
A couple of employees showed up at eight-thirty and slipped in the door to the optical department. He hadn’t noticed that door before. As he watched them close and lock it behind them, it occurred to him that the front doors were electric. Would they even be able to get them open?
He nudged Kay. “I think we’re at the wrong door.”
She glanced back at the other door at the center of the building. “Why?”
“This door’s electric,” he whispered. “You think we ought to wait by that one instead?”
She eyed the front doors again. “You’re right. Those may not open. Let’s go.”
Quietly, they motioned for the kids to follow, and went to stand in front of the optical department’s door. Several others noticed and immediately followed. Within a few minutes, much of the crowd had moved.
But the Brannings were at the front. That meant they’d have the best shot at getting the items they needed.
He peered in through the glass. The small optometrist’s waiting room on the other side of that door was dark. He hoped it wasn’t like that inside the store itself. He wished he’d brought his flashlight. The Wal-Mart he and Deni’d stopped at on the way home from the airport had skylights that made it possible to see. Maybe this one did, as well.
At eight forty-five, the crowd pressed closer, threatening to stampede the moment the door was thrown open. Doug looked down at Logan, who was almost crushed in the crowd. The boy was sweating profusely. His face was red, but he stood like a track star waiting for the starter’s gun.
“You okay, Son?”
Logan didn’t take his eyes off the door. “I’m ready, Dad.”
Doug glanced back at Jeff, who stood away from the crowd. He’d leaned the bikes against the brick wall and sat down on the sidewalk, sulking with the .12 gauge in his lap.
Some of the people around them still clutched their own bikes, clearly planning to roll them in with them. He hoped they’d stop them. Hundreds of bicycles in the store would only add to the chaos.
Finally, they saw someone emerging from the darkness, and the manager began to unlock the door. Carefully, he opened it and stepped out of the way.
The Brannings burst inside, grabbed shopping carts, and took off in five different directions. Behind him, he heard the manager yelling that bikes weren’t allowed inside. Perfect. They’d have an even greater head start as people scrambled to take care of their bikes. Thankfully, there were skylights, so the building wasn’t dark.
Doug headed to the firearms section for more ammo. He was the first one at the counter, but there wasn’t an employee there to help him. The ammunition was locked in a glass case. There was no time to wait. He’d have to come back when he’d gotten everything else.
