The Survivor Kind

A moment later there was a distant rifle shot, then the sound of a body falling to the floor upstairs. I re-holstered the Colt and gave the basement a quick once-over to see if I’d need to come back down for anything beside Robert. It turns out that he hadn’t been lying about having a side of beef in the freezer.

The ice cream, however, was a lie.

Laurie lay on the kitchen floor, like a discarded doll. I looked out the window and waved at Mary-Beth as she crossed the yard. Then I started rummaging through the cupboards for food. We’d hit the jackpot. They had more canned goods than I’d ever seen outside of a grocery store. The supplies that Robert and Laurie had amassed would vastly improve our chances of surviving the coming winter. The frozen beef in particular was a great find. Fortunately, we’d found a working refrigeration truck last year. There were currently two deer carcasses hanging from hooks in the back, but there was still plenty of room.

Mary-Beth came in and surveyed my ruined nose with the practiced eye of an emergency room nurse, which she had been.

“You’ll live.” She said. “Serves you right for taking so long to signal.”

“Sorry. They were … tough to figure out.”





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