Prompt Rides - 23. Stocking Supplies

“Where did all that come from?” Jessie didn’t wait for a response, he wiped the grease off his hands on the rag sticking from the back pocket of his shorts, and moved towards the truck to lend a hand unloading it.

“Publix,” replied Aitor grinning. “The boss changed his mind on the way to St. Augustine. He decided it was a groceries kind of day.”

‘Humpf! The way the two of you eat, I’m scared we’ll run out of food.” Lars stripped off the t-shirt he was wearing, and used it to wipe the sweat off his fur covered chest. “I want to make a few more runs this week. We can rotate who goes so no one gets stuck here all the time.”

Six months after stumbling into the Guana River Environmental Station, and deciding to make it their home, the three men were busy turning it into a secure compound, and stocking supplies. With hurricane season approaching, they’d been spending less time fishing and hunting, concentrating on scavenging the nearby city instead, in search of essentials.

Following the celebration on the beach the previous November, Lars had laid out a plan to ensure their existence in this new world. The deadly virus released in Saudi Arabia during Ramadan had wiped out most the planet’s population. Small pockets of survivors―due to natural immunity or isolation during the days of the pandemic―found themselves trying to cope with isolation, and conditions most twenty-first century humans were ill-prepared for.

They had established communications, via shortwave radio, with several communities. The group in Key West had invited the two Europeans, and the young man from Texas, to drive down the peninsula and settle in the Conch Republic. Jessie had been quick to point out the small island’s isolation might be great for security, but it made replenishing supplies difficult. They had declined, but promised to visit at some point.

“Okay, that works for me.” The young American grabbed three cases of canned vegetables and followed his partners inside the building. “I’d like to look for fuel tomorrow. The chances of a storm this early in the season are small. I know that from growing up in Abilene, and seeing a few of them blow through the state. But when we do get hit, I want to have a couple of tank trucks full of diesel on hand.”

“You guys can go tomorrow.” Lars held the door open with his foot to let the other two men walk inside the structure. “Maybe we’ll set up a schedule and do certain runs on specific days. I’ll reserve one day a week for medicals. I’m not happy with the amount of meds we have on hand.”

“Why did I have to marry an anal retentive doctor?” Aitor shook his head and rolled his eyes, as he added the cases he carried to the stack by the wall. “You need to forget about trying to create a hospital here.”

Jessie snickered, enjoying the banter between the men he’d grown to love. “Maybe we could turn the old gas station down the road into one. It’ll just mean dragging back more stuff.”

“Shut up, Tex!” The swarthy Spaniard smacked Jessie’s butt on the way back to the truck for another load of canned good. “Doc has to realize he’s not home in Sweden sometime soon. He needs to get used to living without nice, clean medical facilities in Allah’s World.”