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Chapter 10: Supply Run

We leave ten minutes later. It’s strangely peaceful outside. The sun is shining, the sky is blue, with but a few wispy clouds high overhead. The grass is still green, the birds and squirrels are out and about, and looking just as ordinary as they were before the end of the world. The only immediate sign of the apocalypse is the utter lack of children playing outside.

It’s good to know that not every part of town has gone straight to shit after the end of the world as we knew it. The folks here are well off, and as long as they have their immediate needs met, they seem content to go on living as they always have. I’m sure some of them have gotten some unpleasant ideas, but as long as they feel they have more to lose than gain by not being good and responsible members of civilized society, I expect them to do just that. I just hope they’ll choose to come together and support each other once the going gets tough.

I don’t hold any hope for anything in my neighborhood. Back there, distrust between neighbors was rampant even in the best of times. Half the families had at least one parent or aunt or uncle or sibling behind bars. I was one of the lucky few kids who managed to avoid drugs entirely. Even that was mostly because I was a good enough student and had a mother who gave enough of a damn to encourage me to try for college. That, and I always had Chloe and her mother to rely on. Almost like a second family there to support me.

Had things been different, I might not be here myself. So yes, I have no problem paying them back for all the kindness and love they’ve shown me over the previous thirteen years by defending them with every bit of the strength the System has given me. I think that’s what the other me would have wanted as well. To defend people. Maybe that’s why [Divine Paladin] was the first class the System tried to give me. I can see how it would fit me, at least.

Things gradually deteriorate as we make our way through town to the neighborhoods which could be generously described as ‘underprivileged’. And sure enough, the signs of chaos in the streets are already visible. Broken windows are aplenty, and the occasional gunshot rings out from the next street over. Turf war between rival gangs, if I had to guess. Not sure how long guns are still going to be useful in self-defense, but even having doubled my [Vitality] since the arrival of the System, I don’t feel I’m able to tank bullets to the vitals anytime soon.

We arrive at my home a short while later. Sure enough, the front door is busted and I steel myself for the worst. Chloe and her mother both consider waiting inside, but I ask them to come in. They express discomfort at the prospect, but I insist. We need to stay together. It’s our best chance of all staying alive through all this.

I lead the way, taking my Hellspawn pitchfork and setting it alight as I walk into the living room. They didn’t completely trash the furniture, but they rummaged through the dressers, probably looking for jewelry or money or anything else they could sell. Food and weapons too. I check the pantries to confirm, but yes, completely cleaned out. Refrigerator and freezer are empty as well.

I head into my room, walking slowly and avoiding noise as much as I can. The bed’s been torn, the contents of my drawers and dressers are all sprawled about. At least the clothing has been left mostly intact, if soiled by whoever went through. I’m able to grab a few shirts, a few pairs of jeans, and my other pair of shoes.

I also sneak my hand into the underside of my bed and pull out my small stash of about two hundred dollars. It’s barely anything— I’m sure Chloe and her mom have plenty more. I don’t even know if money means anything anymore now, but it doesn’t take much space or weight, so I go ahead and slip it into my pocket.

I also reach into my smashed bedroom television and grab the circuit board inside. Normally I wouldn’t be bothered to grab something so useless, but I think it can help my class improve.

The hairs on my neck stand on end, and an ominous sense of danger overcomes me. We need to get out of here soon. Mrs. Jacobs’s car is too nice, and once it’s seen, we’ll be a target. I take just a brief moment to look in my parents’ bedroom and my mood drops.

No sign of my father, but my mother lies dead before me. I want to cry and grieve. She deserves that much. She deserves a proper funeral and respectful repose. She deserves better than to lie there, bloodied and beaten for trying to defend herself in her own home. She deserves a better memory and legacy than to be food for worms and other such scavengers.

But I can’t give her any of that. All I can do is curse myself, curse my powerlessness. Curse the fact that she’s not here, all because someone decided they were going to take from her, and do so by force. My hardened heart demands to cry and properly mourn, but that will have to wait. I have to stay alive. I have to keep Chloe alive. I force myself to the present, and we get out as soon as we can.

I drop my clothes down into the back seat of her SUV as she drives back. Despite nothing that screams danger, I keep turning my head back as Mrs. Jacobs drives off, worried about any pursuit. I don’t see any signs that we’re being tracked, but that doesn’t ease my tension in the slightest. I’ll have to check for some sort of tracking device planted on the car later, but our first priority is getting back to the relative safety of Chloe’s house.

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First, though, we head to the grocery store. We choose neither one of the fancy specialty organic food outlets nor the neighborhood dollar store, but instead a midscale retailer located in one of the average parts of town.

The lot is packed, and it’s the first time I’ve seen any signs of police presence since the Integration. I guess maintaining and rationing food is an essential enough part of daily life that it deserves protection. That much I can actually agree with, especially when we might see real food shortages in the coming weeks.

Rather than even letting people into the store, they’ve got a delivery service going on. People drive up, pay for a bag of assorted nonperishables and a small assortment of fresh produce and dairy. Honestly a pretty effective approach that satisfies all sides. The store doesn’t want fights breaking out in the aisles, the police want to stick to controlling just the perimeter rather than patrolling the insides, and I don’t think anyone wants to be away from home longer than they absolutely have to be.

Things progress surprisingly quickly despite the gargantuan line. In less than fifteen minutes, we’re up. They are currently cash-only, and I have no problem paying when Mrs. Jacobs protests that she doesn’t have cash on her. Food is way more important than a few pieces of green cloth, no matter how much we’re conditioned otherwise.

“I’ll pay you back later,” she says. I think it’s mostly to reassure herself that there’s some small element of normalcy. I smile and nod and thank her.

We make our way back to Chloe’s place. It’s eerie how the neighborhoods in this part of town are still able to just go about their lives as though nothing happened. Part of me is envious. The other part, the more cynical part honed from nearly eighteen years of living in a shitty neighborhood, worries that they’re going to have a nasty wake-up call when the change starts coming to their front door.

Which is a bit surprising, given we’ve already fought three battles and I’ve reached Level 5. Did the pack of Hellspawn not go after anyone else? I guess Chloe’s home is in the corner of the neighborhood, and next blocks over start fading into the wilderness. And didn’t Chloe say something about a dungeon spawning in that direction? We should go there at some point.

We arrive back to the closest thing to a peaceful sanctuary we’re likely to have for a very long time. Chloe and her mother help me bring the food and my stuff inside, and once we get everything put away, I head back out, explaining that I’d feel better if I checked for any sort of trackers on the car.

I reach myself down low and look under the undercarriage and feel behind each tire. I grab the flashlight and channel my [Ether] through it to see if anything sparkles. Anywhere someone might have gotten crafty and hidden something, I made sure to check. Even in the exhaust pipe, which was absolutely disgusting and covered my hand in oily grime.

I find nothing after an exhaustive and probably unnecessary search, at which point, I head inside, lock the door behind me, wash my hands, and then collapse on the sofa and start crying. Finally, I’m as safe as I’m ever again likely to get. I can let my anger and grief spill out, and seek comfort in the closest thing to a family I still have yet.

Chloe’s there for me right away. She rubs my upper back and doesn’t say a word. She pulls me into a hug, not caring that she’s getting her own clothes dirty from doing so. Despite her privileged upbringing, she is a truly kind and caring spirit, and the world is a better place with her in it.

“My mother,” I’m finally able to get out through my sobs. “She–”

“It’s okay, Sera. I’m here for you. Just like you were here for me.”

She hugs me tighter and I start feeling better. I wonder if her healing hands can also cure a hurting heart. Considering the weight I feel lifting off my shoulders, I have to assume that they can. I continue to sniffle, and just like I did for her earlier, she hands me tissues and lets me weep until I’ve wept all I can and can’t weep anymore. I wipe my tears and take a long drink of water once my mood starts to settle.

The two of us sit there next to each other, me resting on her shoulder. Neither of us makes a sound. I enjoy the silence of being able to do nothing, just feeling comfort and relaxation in my best friend’s presence.

“Well, you two make quite the cute couple!” Mrs. Jacobs says, emerging from her bedroom.

We turn to each other and our faces turn beet red. We immediately put the entire length of the sofa between us as we scramble to opposite sides. And worst of all, I can’t even say the idea of it is horrendous, even though it’ll never happen. Chloe is straight as an arrow and my feelings on all that are… complicated, to say the least.

Mrs. Jacobs laughs a bit. Chloe tosses a throw pillow at her mother, who catches it and shakes her head.

“Have some tact!” Chloe says. “She just had to look at her dead mother, for the gods’ sake! And she held it all in until just now. For us.”

Chloe’s mother sits down next to me and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sera. I remember when my mother passed. Around twelve years ago, not long after the two of you became friends. I don’t think you came to the funeral.”

I affirm; I don’t have any memories of it if I did.

“I don’t know what you are going through right now. I know things are tough, especially with everything going on in the world right now. But I want you to know that this place is safe, and you have Chloe and me to support you. This goes without saying, but you are welcome here as long as you need. Now… I think a bath is in order, Miss Mortensen! And go on; the water will do you some real good.”

“Thank you,” I say, agreeing that it’s a good idea, and looking forward to being in my own clothes again. Chloe asked me not to say it before, but her clothes are a bit too tight in the chest.