An Unexpected Meeting (+5 years)
With a satisfying crack, the metal backing of the display case came loose. Rolling his shoulders, Marcos set his crowbar on the top of the case and dropped down to sit on his heels, catching his breath and getting another look at the faded boxes inside. This had been a good find. Not only was the sporting goods store lost at the furthest back corner of a now-subterranean shopping mall, but those who had managed to get into the place previously had apparently been concerned only with what could be used for weaponry or construction. Marcos let his canvas knapsack slide from his shoulder, and set about filling it with small boxes of lead fishing weights.
Half an hour later, he squeezed out from behind a massive sign that leaned against the exposed roofing of the mall. A broad flat plain stretched out ahead of him to the south, at the base of a short incline; at the edge of the horizon, the haze darkened and suggested the unseen ocean beyond. Lines curved and crisscrossed the expanse, tracing patterns between chains of rusted train cars, and the rickety towers that had once directed them. The air tasted like grit and iron, and Marcos pulled his bandana up over his nose and mouth.
Pebbles skittered ahead of him as he slid sideways down the incline, his heavy boots leaving furrows in the loose soil as he went. He had a few more hours of daylight; with luck, he’d find some usable scraps in the train yards before he had to turn back - and then a figure moved out from behind the low building ahead and to his left. Marcos leapt the last few feet to level ground, and his bag and crowbar raised a cloud of orange dust as he let them drop, slipping the pistol from his side and leveling it at the stranger in one motion. Too late to hide, can’t run with the bag. Maybe I can bluff and get distance.
