Tales of the Derry Plague , Anselmo, Ray [fun to read txt] 📗

It was about noon, so she returned to the store for lunch. What to have today? Looking through the canned meat section, she felt a little frustrated. A lot of it wasn’t exactly ready-to-eat – canned hams and corned beef hash really needed preparation. She settled on turkey jerky, canned corn and another Sprite, wolfed it down, then moved a flat of Spam and another of canned cat food to the back seat of her car. Come Friday night, she’d take the cat food with her to the farm – unless she went there earlier.

Back home, she moved the food into the kitchen, then pondered the next item: searching houses. She had her homemade map and notepad and spray paint, and two vehicles to haul home anything she found and just had to keep close at hand. But, she realized, she hadn’t thought about her route. Where would she start the search? Where would she end it? Should she go in any particular order, or pick at random and fill in the rest later. Min. 2 dwellings, great – but which two?

Well, since she was just starting, why not the two on either side of her, the Alvarezes’ and the Wilkinses’? She’d already been inside each one multiple times in the last few weeks – they would be the most familiar. And she wouldn’t even need to use any gas. If she wanted to bring something home, she could just carry it, or get the shopping cart still sitting by the front door. Simple.

She had to steel herself before going back in the Alvarezes’. She hadn’t been in there since she stored all the food in Keith’s old wood shop. Being prepared to document and possibly take stuff had a different vibe than putting stuff away, especially without the desperation she’d felt those first several days when she’d been moving bodies and stockpiling necessities. This was more like getting a sneak peek at a colossal estate sale. Or maybe she was just more conscious of it now.

“Suck it up, buttercup,” she told herself. She took the map, spray paint, a pen and an empty accounting journal she spotted on the office shelves, and walked next door.

She set her stuff on the living room table and looked around. How to do this? “Well, just write something and change it later if you don’t like it. It’s not like your supervisor will care.” God was her only boss, and the Bible was largely absent of inventory policies. She marked a 1 on the square on the map that corresponded to the Alvarez house, opened the ledger to the first page and started walking around and jotting down:

1

36 Commodore Avenue

Keith and Rita Alvarez, Ernes

2 stories + basement (current use – root cellar)

1st floor – liv room w/fireplace, kitchen, dining, office, craft room, guest room w/bath

2nd floor – 4 bedrooms, 1 w/bath, other bath in hall

Men’s clothes – L-XL, women’s clothes – 12-16, children’s clothes – ages 12m, 9m, 5f

Backyard – medium, 5 trees (0 fruit)

Books – est. 600, ½ children’s

DVD/Blu-Rays – est. 100, mostly children’s

She decided not to keep track of previous residents’ names when she couldn’t remember what the two younger children were called. The Alvarezes had mostly kept to themselves and driven their kids to some private Catholic school in San Rafael. She got the impression they’d moved to Sayler Beach so they didn’t have to interact with too many people. The craft room was for Rita, who did macramé. Kelly made a note of that, in case she needed more rope and didn’t want to go to the ranch.

She took another look at the kitchen and realized she’d have to add a task to each house inspection: clearing out all the spoiled food. The bananas and oranges hanging in the basket by the window looked like they were ready to start a revolution. Heaven only knew what the inside of the fridge would be like. She walked back to her place, returning with the shopping cart for what hadn’t gone bad and a garbage bag for what had. After another hour, both were full.

She tied the bag shut and put it in the bed of the Ram, then sorted through the things in the cart. Except for a few items, it would make more sense to put them in the basement root cellar that to tote them next door – she could use it all, but didn’t need to right now save for what had already been opened. “Yeah, save yourself some heavy lifting, Kel.” 90% of it she stored downstairs, then went home with the rest after spraying an X on the front door and securing it closed.

2

28 Commodore Avenue

2 stories

1st floor – liv room, kitchen/dining, bath, gym, library

2nd floor – 3 bedrooms w/bath between 2, 3rd used for storage

Men’s clothes – L, women’s clothes – 8-12

Backyard – small, 3 trees (1 almond), sm. shed, sm. veg. garden

Books – est. 400, ½ Western paperbacks

DVD/Blu-Rays – est. 170, mostly Westerns & sports

The Wilkinses’ was smaller, and they were retired – they rarely used the upstairs except when their children and grandchildren visited. But Henry and Clare were workout fiends, even at their age, and their gym was the converted garage. If she ever decided to get into weightlifting, she knew right where to go.

And they had just about every classic Western film on disc, which gave her an idea. Checking the racks, she found The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, which she’d heard about but never seen. “I got your Friday night movie right here,” she said, and took it with her along with the canned and dry goods when she left. She also took two more bags of garbage – the Wilkinses, she knew, did monthly shopping trips to San Rafael, and they