Chapter 16
They were off again to a different location. This time they traveled much faster. This time, Liz could hold on. When they reached the building, Liz ran inside with her blade and quickly searched the aisles for any people who may prove hostile. It took all of a minute for her to speed through the building and run back to Marcus with an armload of large white pipes.
She jumped to his back, placed them into the crate, and ran back. They did not need to exchange words or instructions as Liz knew what to grab; everything possible. Marcus could not help as he could not pick up anything without causing some sort of damage to the supplies. Liz made ten trips in total before the crate was so packed, she had trouble closing it. Marcus said, “Stay here. I will go collect more boxes and bring this one back. Continue to empty the stores and I will return soon.”
She did as he instructed and a small pile was formed when he returned with two crates in his claws. He flew off and came back with another two, but simply landed, dropped two off, and grabbed two more. He then flew back and repeated. Liz and Marcus continued this process for several hours until the entire store was empty. Liz filled the last few inches of space with random items from the building itself, including a few bricks and a large metal beam that held a section of the roof in place. When Marcus had the last of the crates in his claws, he said, “Jump on, we will not be coming back.”
Liz leapt to his head and he took flight. They dropped the last of the boxes at end of a hundred yard long trail of hastily placed crates. The men at one end were only just finishing the first crate, and none of them looked too pleased to see their arrival. Liz said to a resting soldier, “What now?”
He said, “Did you really empty the entire store?”
Marcus responded, “Yes. We do not get tired and will not stop until the stocks of the derelict areas are empty. Where will you have us go next?”
“Well,” he stopped for a moment, perhaps trying to think of what they need most “there’re hundreds of weapons depots in any direction. That map only shows where the department stores are located. Take this one; it’s got the location of a storage container storage yard and all of the depots within thirty miles.”
Liz happily took the map and they moved from point to point raiding the armored structures where the army, marines, National Guard, and navy kept their weaponry. Liz easily filled five crates per depot, and all twelve of the depots within five miles of the island were emptied. On some of the trips, Marcus would take an armored car instead of a crate or Liz would strap a helicopter to his back. They left the tanks alone; the military could deal with them later.
Along with massive amounts of weapons and ammo, Liz also retrieved body armor, food rations, fuel, and tons of parts to vehicles and weapons. She also found the blueprints to new technologies and old designs that never stopped working. She collected all of them in a silver case and carried it to the crate. It was nearing sundown when the last of the twelve depots were emptied. Again, Marcus asked, “Where to now?”
He was not surprised at their fast work. Despite the long line of crates stretching across the field, he said, “We need more food. Take this map with all of the food stores on it and keep doing your job.”
Marcus and Liz stopped at Stop&Shop, Wal-Mart, McDonalds, and a hundred other places, but they could not fill twenty crates because all of the perishable food had rotten over the months. Still, enough was collected at the military depots to make up for the loss.
The sun was set. Marcus flew from the east, so the gold-orange light filled his eyes. Marcus knew how the man was going to respond when they returned, but still said as the last crate was dropped off, “Where will you send us now?”
“Goddamn it,” the soldier he was to speak with exclaimed, “We’re only on the tenth crate, and you want to do more? I’ll send you somewhere; go back to the island and report in. We’re done with you for now.”
Marcus turned to look behind him and realized that they had collected over a hundred and fifty total crates. He was both proud that he was able to help that much and sad that the soldier he was conversing with would probably lose much sleep sorting out the crates.
Still, the man told him to go home, and Marcus did as he wished. Not only did he wish to rest his weary mind, but also he wanted to see his father. As Marcus took flight, all he could think of was his father’s blood trail not twelve hours before.
She jumped to his back, placed them into the crate, and ran back. They did not need to exchange words or instructions as Liz knew what to grab; everything possible. Marcus could not help as he could not pick up anything without causing some sort of damage to the supplies. Liz made ten trips in total before the crate was so packed, she had trouble closing it. Marcus said, “Stay here. I will go collect more boxes and bring this one back. Continue to empty the stores and I will return soon.”
She did as he instructed and a small pile was formed when he returned with two crates in his claws. He flew off and came back with another two, but simply landed, dropped two off, and grabbed two more. He then flew back and repeated. Liz and Marcus continued this process for several hours until the entire store was empty. Liz filled the last few inches of space with random items from the building itself, including a few bricks and a large metal beam that held a section of the roof in place. When Marcus had the last of the crates in his claws, he said, “Jump on, we will not be coming back.”
Liz leapt to his head and he took flight. They dropped the last of the boxes at end of a hundred yard long trail of hastily placed crates. The men at one end were only just finishing the first crate, and none of them looked too pleased to see their arrival. Liz said to a resting soldier, “What now?”
He said, “Did you really empty the entire store?”
Marcus responded, “Yes. We do not get tired and will not stop until the stocks of the derelict areas are empty. Where will you have us go next?”
“Well,” he stopped for a moment, perhaps trying to think of what they need most “there’re hundreds of weapons depots in any direction. That map only shows where the department stores are located. Take this one; it’s got the location of a storage container storage yard and all of the depots within thirty miles.”
Liz happily took the map and they moved from point to point raiding the armored structures where the army, marines, National Guard, and navy kept their weaponry. Liz easily filled five crates per depot, and all twelve of the depots within five miles of the island were emptied. On some of the trips, Marcus would take an armored car instead of a crate or Liz would strap a helicopter to his back. They left the tanks alone; the military could deal with them later.
Along with massive amounts of weapons and ammo, Liz also retrieved body armor, food rations, fuel, and tons of parts to vehicles and weapons. She also found the blueprints to new technologies and old designs that never stopped working. She collected all of them in a silver case and carried it to the crate. It was nearing sundown when the last of the twelve depots were emptied. Again, Marcus asked, “Where to now?”
He was not surprised at their fast work. Despite the long line of crates stretching across the field, he said, “We need more food. Take this map with all of the food stores on it and keep doing your job.”
Marcus and Liz stopped at Stop&Shop, Wal-Mart, McDonalds, and a hundred other places, but they could not fill twenty crates because all of the perishable food had rotten over the months. Still, enough was collected at the military depots to make up for the loss.
The sun was set. Marcus flew from the east, so the gold-orange light filled his eyes. Marcus knew how the man was going to respond when they returned, but still said as the last crate was dropped off, “Where will you send us now?”
“Goddamn it,” the soldier he was to speak with exclaimed, “We’re only on the tenth crate, and you want to do more? I’ll send you somewhere; go back to the island and report in. We’re done with you for now.”
Marcus turned to look behind him and realized that they had collected over a hundred and fifty total crates. He was both proud that he was able to help that much and sad that the soldier he was conversing with would probably lose much sleep sorting out the crates.
Still, the man told him to go home, and Marcus did as he wished. Not only did he wish to rest his weary mind, but also he wanted to see his father. As Marcus took flight, all he could think of was his father’s blood trail not twelve hours before.