The McClane Apocalypse Book Five (37 page)

He crosses the main living area to a window
and pushes it up. Then he ushers her out it. Paige drops to the
ground, which isn’t more than five or so feet. Cory follows. He
doesn’t seem to mind that he makes more noise. They end up on a
street filled with former restaurants and hotels.

“Stay close,” he says softly.

His brown eyes are more
serious
than normal. A permanent
line
mars
between his
thick
black brows. Paige’s mouth opens
to answer, but she just nods instead. His eyes fall
on
her mouth a moment before he turns
around again. He signals over his shoulder to her to move
out.

They jog slowly down the street,
staying near the brick façades of apartment buildings and offices.
Then they cross in the middle of the
four-lane
road where they come to a rather large
shopping plaza. A video game store is nestled in the corner next to
a sporting goods franchise and quite a few other businesses.
Paige grins as she recalls what a gamer her brother
used to be and how he and his few friends would stay up all night
on the weekend to finish some level of whatever the latest video
game was that just released.

Cory points with two fingers toward the
center of the plaza where the two-story sporting goods store
stands. Paige gives him another nod in accord. They travel in the
direction of the
store
, but he
doesn’t immediately go inside once they get there. He squats
low
with her beside huge planter boxes
between the video game and the sporting goods stores. She looks up
at him. His keen eyes are scanning the area meticulously, searching
out dangers. Paige is pretty sure that he’s the most dangerous
thing on this empty street.

“Let’s go,” he says, rising suddenly and
jogging to the front of the store.

Paige follows, and they enter the front
doors of Dick’s Sporting Goods. Cory darts to their right and
squats behind shelving units with very few camping supplies left.
He half rises and moves slowly toward the far wall of the building,
passing many empty shelves and display racks that used to house
fishing gear. Paige follows again and mimics him, pressing her
back
against
the wall and
listening.

“Think we’re alone,” he says softly.

“Are we looking for guns or bullets or
something like that?” she asks.

“No, that’s likely all gone,” he answers.

“Then what?”

He shakes his head, ignores her, and
continues on again. Paige frowns with confusion. Why else would
they come to a sporting goods store if not for weapons?

Cory leads her to the back of
the
store
where it is much darker
with the absence of windows.

“Find what you need. I’ll be
your
lookout
,” he tells
her.

He’s brought her to the shoe department.
Paige shoots him a surprised look.

“For me?” she asks. “Look for shoes for
me?”

“Hurry up, beanpole,” he answers testily and
roams the empty area on guard. “We don’t have all day.”

She tries to conceal her smile but knows that
she fails to do so. She literally runs to the women’s section and
starts scanning for a pair of gym shoes. Anything would be better
at this point than her worn-out, distressed black ankle boots.
There are hiking boots and a few men’s loafers left but nothing in
her size. Damn.

Cory appears next to her and says, “Let’s try
the stockroom.”

He leads her to the swinging doors where he
cautiously pushes one inward. They don’t enter, but he does stand
in the entryway a few moments listening.

“Let’s go,” he says impatiently and breaches
the big stockroom with her.

Other people have thought to do the same
because not many pairs of shoes are left, especially in the men’s
section. Paige crosses to the next aisle where women’s shoes were
stored. There are probably close to a hundred or so boxes left on
the shelves. Apparently women have not thought to hit a store like
this for supplies. She was with her friends on their own for a long
time and never thought to do so. Cory holds a flashlight and her
rifle while she digs through and checks sizes. Bingo! She finds a
pair of hiking boots in a sturdy brown leather and a pair of New
Balance running shoes.

“Put the gym shoes on,” he orders quietly,
looking over his shoulder.

“Ok,” she answers, not needing any further
encouragement on that subject.

Paige tugs off her black boots, leaving them
on the floor and pulls the new shoes out of the box. She sits on
the cement floor, running the laces through the holes as quickly as
she can. Then she pulls them on, stands and sighs with relief that
they fit and actually feel like they have some padding. She hasn’t
had new shoes for so long that they almost feel funny on her feet.
Her black boots were on their last leg.

“Better?” he asks with raised eyebrows.

Paige groans with satisfaction and nods.
“Yes, thank the good Lord. These are great.”

“See any more that would fit you or the
other women
at
the
farm?”

“These are my size, too,” she says, showing
him the hiking boots.

“Good,” he returns. “Put ‘em in your
pack.”

“There are some more here that would probably
fit the other women or kids,” she says, waving her hand toward the
other boxes. “There are enough for some of our neighbors and maybe
some of the women in town.”

“All right,” he says. “We’ll stop here on the
way out of town in the Suburban and hit it. That’s too much for us
to carry.”

“Oh, all right,” Paige says, stuffing the
hiking boots into her backpack. There’s no way she’s leaving these
in the store in case someone else raids the stockroom before they
come back.

“Ready?” he asks, shining his small
flashlight around.

“Yes,” she answers and takes her gun from him
again.

Cory turns away from her to go, but Paige
grabs the sleeve of his black jacket. “Cory, thanks.”

He doesn’t turn all the way back to her but
gives a nod just the same.

“I just didn’t want you slowing me down or
whining ‘cuz your bigass feet hurt,” he remarks snidely.

Paige knows he’s just trying to play tough.
She smiles to herself and follows him from the room.

“Don’t worry,” she says with a grin. “I won’t
tell anyone and blow your cover as a big meanie.”

Cory just snorts and keeps going. They raid
the rest of the store, searching out anything that could be of use.
She finds a thermal shirt and a pair of black cargo pants for
herself in the correct length for a change. This could be useful
later tonight when they are finished and hunkered down. She only
has a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in her backpack. These are warmer
clothes. She’s not even sure where they are staying and whether or
not there will be heat. She also grabs a brown stocking cap off the
floor that has an embroidered label for “RealTree” on the front-
whatever that means- and a pair of warm socks.

“We’ll take whatever clothes are left, too,”
he says.

Paige nods and wanders farther away, Cory
following in her wake. She finds a display case of lip balm also on
the floor and grabs the last three tubes. He gives her a strange
look.

“My lips are chapped. I thought Sam or the
other girls might want one, too,” she explains and gets a frown in
answer from the Neanderthal.

She’s surprised that he’s actually
wearing a jacket today. It’s a black, lightweight cotton one with
lots of pockets.
Typically
he
runs around the farm in just a t-shirt or no shirt at all. He
sleeps
in
practically nothing.
Sharing the small cabin with him is sometimes torturous. She wishes
he’d wear more clothing to bed. Most of the time she tries to avert
her eyes, but sometimes it is
more difficult
than
others. His dark tanned skin is oftentimes
covered in a fine sheen of perspiration. And lately when he’s
gotten out of bed to either go on watch duty or wherever the heck
he goes, Paige has lain awake thinking about him. It’s very
frustrating. She has no desire to be in his company, and yet, she
finds herself thinking about him more often than not. She wonders
what his opinion on different subjects might be and how he feels
about different things. Apparently she’s lonelier now than ever
since Jason turned out to be such a jerk.

Cory grabs a small stash of matches, a
handful of fishing lures, and a rifle scope he finds on the floor
behind the glass display case in the gun department that he says is
a pretty good one. On the second floor, they find more clothing, a
tent and a few sleeping bags that he says they can take when they
return with the Suburban.

As they come around to the gift shop
area of the store, she finds a leather-bound sketch pad with
engraved deer on the front cover and complete with a box of
artist’s pencils. Sam would appreciate this. Cory places it in his
pack. They leave through the side delivery exit. The place next to
it has been burned almost to the ground. It looks like it used to
be some sort of restaurant. He says that it
looks
like a gas line fire probably started in the
kitchen.

Cory leads her to the back where they come to
a door of a chain store pharmacy. He pushes but can’t get the door
to swing inward. Then he takes her upper arm and physically moves
her to the side. She gives him a look of confusion. Her confusion
doesn’t last long though. Cory kicks violently a few times until
the door finally crashes in. If she was alone, she would’ve never
done that. He just caused a ruckus of epic decibels. Paige cringes
but follows him inside.

They are in a storage room, and it is eerily
dark and quiet. He sweeps his rifle left and right as they go.
Paige stays close for fear of a person coming at her from the other
side of the aisles of storage racks. Or a zombie. She’s also
fearful that one of those may lurk in this frightening, dingy
space.

A section of shelving has been pushed over
and rests against another. Cory bends to retrieve an item. He hands
the box to her and raises his eyebrows. It is a small box of blonde
hair coloring. She punches his arm and tosses the box back to the
floor. He just chuckles. Paige even grins. What a smartass.

She stoops to pick up a pair of scissors.
Then she snatches up his short ponytail and pretends she’s going to
lob it off. He laughs aloud this time. Paige tosses the rusted
scissors down. Something catches her eye and she squats and then
kneels. She sets her rifle on the floor and then her pack.

“What’d you find? More make-up or perfume or
something important like that?” he teases.

Paige ignores him and slides forward on
her stomach under the
heavy
shelving unit. She grabs the surplus box containing smaller
packages of the product and shimmies back out like a
centipede.

“What is it?” he inquires, closing in on
her.

She pulls the box closer and uses the dagger
Cory gave her to slice the tape. Paige holds up a small package
from inside.

“Maxi pads, seriously?” he asks. “That’s the
big find that you had to honey-badger out of that hole?”

“Tampons, too,” she says and pulls out
another smaller box.

“Great, now can we go? I might have to scout
out some Viagara or something equally important.”

“The women on the farm will be thrilled with
this,” she says as she takes the products out of their packages and
stuffs them all into her backpack. It’s no easy feat sticking six
boxes of the goods in there, but she’s not leaving without them.
“And I kinda’ figured you didn’t need Viagara to hear you
brag.”

He chuffs with
manly
offense and declares, “Oh, I don’t. Trust me.
But you’ll never know, will you?”

Paige ignores him and zips her backpack
closed. She doesn’t care if she finds another item in the city,
she’s sick of dealing with her female issues without modern
convenience, even if these won’t last long. Her body fat dropped so
low while on the road that she stopped having a period at all. But
since she’s eating healthy and has gained back a little weight,
she’s back to menstruating, which started again last month. She
stands and takes her rifle from him, looking directly up into his
brown eyes.

“All I’d have to do is ask all the neighbors’
daughters, caveman,” she tells him. “And probably half the
townswomen.”

“I’m a celibate man, beanpole,”
he
murmurs
as they draw near the
store’s swinging doors that lead to the main shopping
floor.

“Yeah, right,” Paige
snorts
.

“I am,” he says and turns directly to her.
“Evie and I broke it off.”

“Really?” Paige asks more seriously.
She genuinely feels
bad
for him
if he liked Evie. It’s hard enough to find someone nowadays. “I’m
sorry. Why?”

“It wasn’t that kind of a relationship,” he
says.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, romance, flowers, poetry, that
kind of shit,” he explains.

“So what was it?”

He just raises his thick brows with
implication that Paige immediately understands. “Oh,” she mumbles
and looks at the floor, at her new shoes that he’d purposely taken
time to help her find.

When Paige glances back up, Cory is still
looking at her, but this time there is something behind his regard
for her. Her breath hitches in her chest. His eyes fall there. Then
he picks up her wrist. The feel of her whole hand in his few
fingers does something to increase her breathing.