Chet backed the truck away from the store, turned toward the highway, and drove away.
Robert slapped Kyle and Richard on the back and said, “Men, let’s go shopping.”
Chapter Three
The store’s front door was open a few inches, held ajar by a rock on the floor. Robert grasped the handle and shoved the door back. A cowbell attached to the door clanged loudly. The three men entered the store with Robert in the lead, just as an older man, looking flustered and walking with a cane, emerged through the backroom door.
“Hey, there. Sorry the power is out. You’re my first customers today. I was beginning to think no one was going to show up.” The old man forced a smile. “It’s a nice day for fishin’ or what not… you don’t plan to fish in those suits, do ya?” He leaned forward and gripped the cane’s handle with both hands for balance.
“Oh, the suits,” Robert replied, acting surprised. “We had a business meeting today. It was cut short, you know. Having no power created a small change of plans for us. So… here we are… ready to go fishing in Big Sky country and we want to get out on the water, too.”
“Okay, do you gentlemen need to rent a boat for the day?”
Richard interrupted and said, “I need a cigarette, I’ll be outside.”
Irritated, Robert ignored Richard and faced the storeowner to speak. “We are interested in rafts, one for each of us. They need to be big enough for a man and plenty of camping equipment. We also want to move fast through the water. Do you have anything like that?”
The man rubbed the gray stubble on his face and thought for a brief moment as he looked in the direction of the rafts against the far wall. “Follow me, I’ll show you what you need.”
Using his cane, he directed them to the type of raft they needed. The man described the raft as having multiple air chambers. If one chamber was punctured, the others would remain inflated. There was plenty of room for a man and equipment, maybe even two men. Robert saw that there were oarlocks for rowing and he knew that using the oarlocks would allow for greater speed on the water.
“Looks good to me,” said Robert. “We need to catch some fish, too. Right, Kyle?”
Kyle nodded in agreement, adding, “But I don’t have the patience to fly fish for trout. What about bass, and maybe catfish, too?”
“That’s easy enough. I’ve got lures, trot line for catfish, whatever you need is on the wall next to us.” The man turned and looked at the backroom, like he had just remembered something. “Sounds like you know what you want. I’ll be back in a second.” The man disappeared into the backroom.
Robert tapped on the glass window to get Richard’s attention. Richard flicked his cigarette butt onto the gravel of the parking lot and came back into the store. Robert showed him the rafts and pointed out the fishing equipment. He told them they could throw a line into the water at night when they sleep or tie a line to the raft when they are on the water. This would be the most efficient way to fish. Robert also thought it would be a good idea to get a plastic tarp for each man. They could use the tarp to shield themselves from rain and to sleep under at night.
“Just tell me what to get and I’ll put it by the checkout,” Richard said.
“Follow me and take what I do,” said Robert. “Let’s make three piles, one for each of us.”
Robert glanced around the store. He knew this might be his last opportunity to acquire supplies before people began to realize how bad it was and how much worse it would become. He estimated that it could take a few months to make it back to Kansas City, so it was critical that they get as many supplies as possible. Robert knew that Kyle did not live as far away, but he lived with his wife in a large apartment building in the downtown area of Omaha. As he thought about where Kyle and his wife lived, he remembered what the colonel had told him that morning. The urban areas would transcend into war zones as soon as people began to starve.
Robert lived in suburbia, but not far enough from the city to please himself. He knew there was a chance for bad things to happen in his neighborhood, but at least he lived on the edge of his town and many miles from a big urban area. He did derive some solace from the realization that his home was actually closer to some small farms and open fields than to the concrete jungle of an urban downtown. He lived in a new subdivision that was not nearly complete. He picked the lot for his house specifically because it was next to a large county park and a small creek that flowed into a nearby lake. Having this location kept the neighbors a little further away, which was what Robert intended. It would take a little longer for chaos to make its way to his front door. Richard lived in a downtown St. Louis condominium. Robert knew there was no hope for Richard continuing to live there, but he had not told him that yet.
On the other side of the farthest aisle, Robert saw some equipment he should have already thought about, and realizing that there are more things they needed to get, he started by selecting a small hatchet. They would need this for firewood. There was a water filter to purify water for drinking, definitely a must. He selected three of those. Behind a glass case, he saw a large survival knife. He had the man’s switchblade from earlier in the day, but that would not be sufficient. Robert needed a sturdy fixed blade knife and this one looked like the kind of knife that would help him survive in the wild, the kind of wild the world was turning into. His hand tapped the bulge in his right pocket and Robert whispered to himself, “9mm cartridges and as many as I can get.”
Robert did not hear the store’s owner walk up behind him. He was disgusted and embarrassed at himself for not being more aware of his surroundings. Being tired and hungry could not be an excuse. He knew his survival would depend upon alertness and that he would be tested many times in the future.
“It’s a nice one, the best I’ve got,” the storeowner said, nodding toward the knife.
“This knife looks solid, very sturdy,” Robert replied, as he admired the blade. “I’ll take it, and we plan to do some target shooting, too. I have a 9mm pistol. Are those 9mm cartridges?” He pointed toward the locked display case.
“That they are. How many do you need?”
“I’ll take what’s on that shelf. We don’t get to shoot much, so we’re going to make up for that.”
The old man began to perform a calculation in his mind. He looked at the boxes of cartridges and then tilted his head upward, looking at the ceiling. “That would be ten boxes at fifty cartridges to a box.” He tapped his head and said, “That’s 500 rounds.” The storeowner held his arm parallel to the floor, close to his body, and stacked the boxes of ammunition on his forearm. Then he gently bumped his cane on Robert’s leg and asked in a serious tone, “Do you really want that much?”
“Yes, sir. And the knife.”
The storeowner took his position behind the cash register and explained again that the power was out. Then the owner said what Robert had feared, “Cash only.”
Robert began to feel a knot tighten in his stomach. He knew he needed the equipment on the floor to get him back home to his family. He felt his pulse climb, along with his blood pressure, and started to feel a sense of desperation overcome his cool temperament. He forced himself to remain calm, however, and said with resolve what he had already rehearsed in his mind on the way to this store, “Yes, the power is out. That’s why we’re here now and not later in the week. We’re going to take this unexpected chance to meet Montana’s outdoors sooner than we anticipated. As you know, the ATMs are down and that puts us in a bind. What I’m asking you to do is take this opportunity to help us. I’m sure the credit card companies have given you guidance for situations like this.”