Bobby Akart - Armageddon

Peter needed a space that was completely unattractive to the looters or any refugees. An unfinished space with nothing to steal in it was a plus. One that was under construction with nothing to provide comfort to the refugees was a huge bonus.

First, he set about making it appear even less desirable. He broke out some of the glass windows at the front of the store. Then he gathered up some building materials that were ideal for what he had in mind to limit his exposure to any radioactive fallout that found its way into the mall through the breached entryways.

All of the glass cases and displays were covered in heavy-duty plastic sheeting. The six-millimeter-thick plastic was attached with duct tape, a case of which was found behind one of the counters. After he gathered up all of the plastic and duct tape, he secured it in the storeroom. Then he literally trashed the place.

He broke out most of the glass cases. He retrieved garbage from the large receptacles just outside the storefront and emptied the bags onto the floor. He took a neatly stacked pile of ceiling tiles and broke them in half before throwing them around the store’s interior as well as outside the entrance.

Anyone with an idle curiosity about what was inside the vacated retail space would immediately move on to more lucrative options. For Peter, it was perfect.

Once the space was adequately defaced, he set about covering the back wall with plastic to seal it off. Using the ladders left behind by the workers and the duct tape, he wallpapered the drywall with the sheets of plastic, sealing it up as airtight as possible. To enter the storeroom, he simply peeled back one corner of the sheeting near the single entry door and then resealed it from the other side.

He was able to lock the door to deter anyone from entering, and he used a flat-head screwdriver to jimmy open the lock when he needed access. It wasn’t a perfect place to hide out, but it was better than the other alternatives in the mall. It gave him a place of solace where the chaos within the mall was only a dull roar.

Until dawn, he managed a fitful sleep. His mind recalled the events as they unfolded. He fell asleep only to relive the nightmare again, except this time far more vividly, as if he were at ground zero himself.

He awoke with a start at the sound of voices inside the retail space where he’d been hiding.

“What’s back there?” a young man asked loudly. A flashlight illuminated the plastic sheeting, allowing a slight glow to appear through the crack beneath the locked door.

“Who gives a shit, man? Look at this place. If there was anything here, it’s gone now.”

The other man was persistent. The light swept across the door frame and then away. “Look at that plastic. It seems somebody put it up there.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Some construction worker did it. I’m leaving.”

Good idea , thought Peter as he pulled his handgun out of the sling pack. He sat up. Using his feet, he pushed himself away from the door toward the other end of the storeroom.

Peter sat in the dark with the gun pointed toward the door. He nervously held it with both hands. He knew how to kill. He’d done it in Abu Dhabi. But that was different. It was reactive. In the heat of the moment. A kill or be killed situation. Was he prepared to shoot a kid with a flashlight simply because he was scared of what the kid might do?

The plastic sheeting was rustling. One of the young men was slapping it with the palm of his hand. Then he heard words that made him sigh in relief.

“Screw it. I’m comin’.”

Peter closed his eyes and exhaled. He didn’t need the aggravation of shooting someone armed with a flashlight and a poor decision to indulge their curiosity. After a couple of minutes during which time several deep breaths led to calmed nerves, Peter opened the door and peeked into the store. Sunlight flooded the mall through the skylights. It was time to gather up a few things.

But should he? Peter began to weigh the risk of being exposed to the radioactive fallout versus going out of his semi-protective shelter in search of survival gear. If he didn’t leave the relatively safe confines of the storage room, everything he had on his mental wish list might be taken by others who were thinking along the same lines he was.

Peter pulled his tee shirt over his nose and mouth, hoping it would offer a modicum of protection against inhaling any radiation. His clothes were still wet, but they’d have to wait. He placed his gun into the sling pack and emerged from the storage room. After scanning the space and the entrance for anyone observing the store, he stepped out into the mall and immediately headed for Dick’s.

He’d formulated a plan as he’d lain awake earlier. Shelter. Water. Food. Security. He would start in the camping gear and go from there.

He smiled to himself as he made a beeline for the large backpacks and sleeping bags. The athletic shoes and casual apparel had been picked over. Some were looking through the archery equipment. Peter focused on the things that would keep him alive.

He selected a hunting backpack that had several different sized pockets and attachments for bows or rifles. It was also lightweight at only a few pounds, unlike the framed backpacks most campers used.

Peter resisted the urge to grab everything he thought he might need to cram into his backpack. He was prepared to walk thirteen hundred miles to Driftwood Key if that was what it took. A heavy pack would make that all the more difficult.

He gambled on being able to find shelter along the way even though it might mean he’d have to cut his day short if the weather was bad or his stamina gave out. He did choose a ten-degree mummy-style sleeping bag that could be rolled up and attached to the bottom of the backpack. This style sleeping bag would alleviate the need for a tent and would keep him warm in the event colder weather set in as he made the trip south.

He also picked up a tarp and some 550 paracord. In the camping section, he added a couple of different knives, a Gerber multi-tool, and several tactical flashlights with batteries. He was pleasantly surprised when he tried one and found that it worked despite the EMP.

Finally, he turned his attention to nourishment. Dick’s sold LifeStraws, a water filter designed to eliminate contaminants from most any source. The LifeStraw removed cells and germs as well as potentially harmful chemicals.

With his backpack full of camping and survival essentials, he went to the camouflage clothing section and changed out of his jeans and tee shirt. He had to think of living outside, in the elements, under all conditions. He recalled the homeless people of Washington he’d encountered for inspiration.

Despite the time of year, the homeless of America wore everything they owned. Countless layers of undergarments, pants, shirts, and jackets would ordinarily be too hot for most in the summer. When you don’t have a closet, your body served that function.

Peter picked out several packages of boxers and white tee shirts. He chose socks that were appropriate for his running shoes as well as boot socks if needed. He layered himself in matching camo. Khaki material for pants as well as a bulkier outer shell in the event of cold rain or snow. His shirts ranged from short-sleeve tees to long-sleeved heavy cotton. Finally, he added a jacket with a zip-out fleece liner if it became too hot. In Peter’s mind, he could always peel off layers and carry them. If he was underdressed, cold, damp nights would take their toll.

After filling his arms with gear and having a firm plan on deciding what to take and what to abandon later, he made his way back to his hiding place in the storeroom. He laid everything out and considered what items he wished he had. Then he thought about the unthinkable.