Page 97 of What Remains

The last normal workday.

Seth cleared the receiving office, finding it empty. The break room was likewise deserted, though telltale signs of a hasty departure remained: coffee cups on the table, one tipped over, its contents long dried into a stain across forgotten paperwork. Someone had been in the middle of lunch when everything ended.

He swallowed hard. "CLEAR!"

His voice echoed through the cavernous space. A moment later, Cade's reply came from the opposite side. "Clear!"

Together they moved toward the double doors leading into the retail floor. Seth silently counted down: Three. Two. One.

The doors burst open. Rifles up. Corners first.

Nothing.

Rows upon rows of camping equipment stood untouched. Backpacks lined one wall, hiking boots another. Fishing rods reached toward the ceiling, and sleeping bags hung neatly in colorful rows. The entire store looked as though employees had closed for the evening and simply never returned.

Jay ducked inside a moment later and stopped dead. "Holy..." His voice rang through the empty store, earning a sharp glare from Seth. As Cara and Josie followed, a collective, stunned silence fell over them. Jay turned in a slow circle, his voice a disbelieving whisper. "It's untouched."

Seth, however, wasn't looking at the shelves. His eyes tracked the exits, the windows, the ceiling—every place danger could hide.

Cade noticed. "So?"

"So far..." Seth lowered his rifle slightly. "...I don't like how easy this is."

Cade gave a single nod. "I was thinking the same thing."

Jay had already planted himself in front of the ammunition counter. "Guys..." He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. "There has to be fifty thousand rounds in here."

"More," Cade corrected. "They stocked before hunting season."

"We hit the lottery," Jay said with a laugh.

Cara opened her notebook and took command. "Alright, let's stay focused." She pointed around the store as she rattled off priorities. "Cold-weather gear first. Sleeping bags. Boots. Propane. Then food. Medical can wait until the pharmacy."

Everyone split up, moving with a controlled efficiency born of necessity. Jay and Cara loaded carts until they overflowed—heavy winter coats, insulated gloves, thermal socks, propane cylinders, water filters, portable camp stoves, axes, hatchets, knives, every quality backpack they could find. Seth and Cade moved aisle to aisle ahead of them, checking every corner before waving the others forward.

At one point, Jay emerged wearing a ridiculous orange hunting hat with ear flaps. "What do you think?"

"You look like an angry pumpkin," Cara said, bursting into laughter.

"I feel tactical."

"You look ridiculous."

A rare smirk touched Cade's lips. "It'll keep your ears warm."

Jay tossed two more into the cart. "Worth it."

Josie paused by a display of children's sleeping bags. She ran a hand over a small one decorated with cartoon bears, the guarded lines around her eyes easing for the first time. A faint, almost pained smile touched her lips before she decisively added three to their cart.

He met her as she turned, taking the sleeping bags without a word and adding them to the growing pile. No questions, no teasing. She met his gaze, and in the quiet look she offered him, he saw all the thanks he needed.

As the last of the backpacks were loaded onto flatbed carts, Cade drifted toward the warehouse windows overlooking the parking lot. His expression shifted—subtly, but Seth caught it.

"What is it?"

Cade didn't answer immediately. He watched the empty street, waiting, listening. Finally he spoke. "Nothing's moving out there. Not even the birds."

Seth stepped beside him, and neither man said another word.