The Ruined Ones

Chapter Two

At some point, Katrina turned the radio on. Perhaps to try to get more information on what was happening, perhaps just to torture herself. Listening to the reports on the radio were just making her feel worse; feeding the growing fears inside her that all had to do with her unborn child and how after everything they'd already been through, why on Earth did this have to happen now.

Even when their minds were focused on the voices emanating from the speakers in the car as opposed to the terrifying thoughts in their heads, they didn't hear much more on the radio than what they'd already heard on the news. One man suggested that people should be packing as many canned goods and imperishables as possible to take with them before evacuating the city. "Be prepared," he'd said. "Don't panic and leave with absolutely nothing."

Shaun could have smacked himself in the head. In their haste to get out safely, none of them had stopped to think ahead. The cities were being overrun; small towns may not be immune. Where would they get food, water and other essentials from? He turned the radio off.

Nearing the edge of town, Shaun turned down a street, took a left, then a right. He didn't know the street names; he hadn't been to this part of town since he was a teenager, but he hoped what he was looking for was still there. It was.

He slowed to a stop, right outside a little corner shop. One that was built onto the front of the shop owner's house. The door was closed, although that wasn't going to matter.

"Why are we stopping?" Katrina asked, slicing open the silence that had been thickening around them inside the car since the radio had been turned off.

"That guy on the radio was right," Shaun said. "We need supplies. I'm going to get some."

"We need to keep moving," Katrina pleaded. "We'll get something somewhere. Maybe—"

"Kat, he's right," Alfred said from the back seat. "We need to grab some stuff while we can. Just in case."

Lewis unbuckled himself. "I'll help."

"No, Lou," Shaun said as he got out of the car. "Wait here. You and Dad keep an eye out and look after Kat."

"Shaun—" Katrina began, but her husband cut her off.

"I'll be quick. Just a couple of bags and I'll come straight back out. If there's trouble out here, honk the horn twice fast and if I don't come running within ten seconds, Lewis, you gotta get your backside into that driver's seat and get the hell outa here."

He didn't leave room for protest. He jogged around the back of the four-wheel-drive, heading straight for the shop door. It was locked. No surprises there; he'd expected that. He leant in close to the window and cupped his hands around his eyes to cut out the glare. Everything inside was dark so he couldn't see a thing.

He looked around on the ground, trying to find a loose brick or a large rock. Anything he could break the glass with. Nothing.

He ran back over to the car and ripped open the back, where he extracted the tire iron from his travel tool bag, then ran back to the window. He ignored Katrina as she asked what he was doing.

There was no hesitating. He reached the window and swung the tire iron at the glass. He hit it again and again, making sure there was an opening large enough for him to walk through without cutting himself on a jutting piece of glass.

He slipped inside and looked around. No lights were on; the little shop was hidden in near complete darkness, save for the daylight that followed him in through the window he'd broken and entered through.

He hesitated a moment now, waiting to see if anyone was in the shop; if anyone would come to the sound of the breaking glass. After a moment of standing there with no one joining him, he decided to proceed.