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Maybe he wasn’t murdered after all. I snapped the cylinder shut with a flick of my wrist and then slid the pistol into my waistband and caught up with Titouan, who was already signaling Sam.

***

In less than thirty minutes, we had a veritable armory in the back of the Ripsaw. There were enough rifles for everyone two or three times over. We could adequately defend ourselves, assuming we didn’t shoot each other in the process. We also had, I guessed, a few thousand rounds of ammunition, several pistols, and other odds and ends. Avery got himself a pump shotgun. He said he always wanted to shoot one.

The only thing that concerned me more than Avery having a shotgun was what we had to do next. Miley’s office was just down the street from the gun store. There was a large three-hundred-gallon tank of diesel beside the garage. Unlike the gas pumps in town that needed electricity to operate, Miley’s tank had a hand crank that could be used to pump the fuel. Either we would have to use it, or we’d have to resort to looking for other sources, including siphoning vehicles, which would’ve been the absolute last resort.

The obvious concern was had the Order occupied Miley’s after we left? If they had, we would be entering the belly of the beast. And it made perfect sense for them to stay, considering it was, as far as I knew, the only place in Barrow that had a working generator. Needing fuel was forcing our hand. We were either getting ready to make a decision that would lead us to a quick fuel supply or something much worse.

Just play it smart, I thought. We can do this. I exhaled a large gulp of breath and told Sam to get some speed and then cut the engine and coast until we were alongside the tank.

We were rolling to a stop near the pump when Sam asked, “You got the key ta the tank?”

“What?”

“Knowin Miley, it’ll have a big ass lock slapped on the sonofabitch.”

“That might be a problem,” I admitted.

“You ever thank ‘bout East Texas?”

I laughed. “East Texas, West Texas
 I even miss Indiana.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, I ‘is shit makin me miss the holler.”

With everything we were dealing with, we mercifully had our share of good luck to go with the bad. While the lock was on the tank, whoever used it last had not clasped it shut.  I gave Sam a thumb’s up, and we quickly went about filling the fuel containers. After they were full, there was barely enough fuel left for the Ripsaw. Apparently, Miley hadn’t topped off the tank in a while, but according to Avery’s calculations, we had enough fuel to make it to Prudhoe Bay with some extra to spare.

Once we were finished, Sam idled the truck down D Street until we got to Ahkovak Street. Once there, he feathered the Ripsaw forward, picking up speed while trying to keep the sound signature as low as possible. Aside from us and a few bodies scattered along the street, that side of town seemed deserted.

We followed Ahkovak Street over the Damn Road (as locals called it), which split Isatkoak Lagoon in half. The lagoon provided fresh water for many of the people in Barrow. The pipes of the Utilidor ran all along the Damn Road, as it was called. As we drove past the pipes, I couldn’t help wondering just how successful the Order would’ve been had they not managed to get the agent into the water system.

I scolded myself. Concentrate on the tasks at hand, I thought. No sense of worrying about things that already happened.

Sam slammed on the breaks in front of the AC Store. He then backed the Ripsaw within a few feet of the entrance. That morning, we had gone over exactly what we needed from the store. Everyone had a specific list of things they needed to get. The plan was to keep the shopping excursion to less than ten minutes. We were on the clock.

Still no sign of the Order or Grays.

Unlike Miley’s fuel tank, the AC Store was locked up tight. Sam motioned for us to get out of the way. He slammed the butt of his M4 against one of the four rectangular window panes. The glass spiderwebbed and, with one more bash, fell into thousands of pieces. Even with the windowpane gone, there were two metal supports that seemed to have been designed to limit entry under similar circumstances – minus the end of the world shit, of course. It was going to be a tight fit trying to squeeze in between them, but we didn’t have time to get rid of them.

Damn, I was going to have to lose weight, I remember thinking.

The store was full of things we needed. Food, clothes, fuel containers, etc. With ten minutes to work with, we didn’t have time to be discerning shoppers. We would grab what we quite literally couldn’t live without, and we’d fit as much of it as we possibly could in the quickly filling cargo space of the Ripsaw.

Sam and Titouan oversaw organizing the supplies. I jerked my chin towards the library. Sam glanced over at a very much angry Tish before, saying, “Only take us a few minutes ta get ‘is stuff packed. We need ta get goin.”

“Should just take a minute,” I said.

Sam glanced at Avery and then me. “Just hurry.”

It’s hard to find a book when you have access to a card catalog and good lighting. It sucked, trying to find one without either. Avery, aggravated he couldn’t find what he was looking for, tossed a heaping armful of books across the room. I had to walk away. One, for safety sake, and two, my getting mad would only make a bad situation worse.

Not quite finished with his tantrum, Avery ripped the hood off his head. In the process of de-hooding, he knocked his headlamp off. He kicked at it, missed, then picked it

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