Favor for Auntie

Posted on Tue Jul 16th, 2024 @ 5:17am by Dante & John ("Dodger") Smith

1,523 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Winter is Coming
Location: Manhattan
Timeline: September 6, 2010 - 4:00 p.m.

Dante crouched on the roof, out of line of sight, and watched the adults shuffling along below. It would take a few seconds to pick the lock on the metal grate that had been pulled down by the owner a few days back. Problem was the shufflers. Just too many of them and they'd be on him before he could get the lock picked and pull up the grate.

Lean, underfed the way the all were and had been for a bit, with shaggy black hair that fell forward across his forehead and teased at the edge of his brown eyes, Dante wore threadbare jeans, a band t-shirt for Florence and the Machine, and a leather jacket. The uniform of the streets. At least that's what that reporter had said in her special report on street kids.

Thrift shop clothes. Well, that much was true. Sometimes anyway. Sometimes, they were liberated clothes because even used clothes cost money. And money was always in short supply. She talked about their sullen expressions, their open wounds. Ridiculous. No one he knew would have given that much away unless there was a payday in it. Maybe the younger ones. They still had a bit of hope.

Hope. What a useless word that was.

Dante waited and finally he heard it. Loud music coming from a construction site. The adults, the shufflers, turned their empty heads toward the sound and started moving. The Infernals would, he knew, be hiding out on other rooftops. Passing the word along same way he was now. He lifted a mirror that had been lying on the roof, positioned there earlier, and flashed it. He got an answering flash and nodded.

"We'll wait a bit," Dante said quietly. "Then I'll pick the lock and we'll go shopping. You got Auntie's list?"

Dodger nodded, "In my pocket. He was dressed like Dante, jeans, leather jacket, a t-shirt that said Saint Lucia on it. He was 15, with dirty blonde hair and royal blue eyes. He had a knack, a gift for getting in and out of tight places where the other Infernals couldn't even think of getting into, let alone back out. In addition, he was a pickpocket extraordinaire.

He pulled the list out, " Beanie-Weanies, pork and beans, four packs of hotdogs, four packs of hamburger. buns both hamburger and hotdogs if we can find any. Mustard, relish, ketchup, two cans of chicken broth, some bouillon cubes, whatever they are and any soup we can find." He stopped and looked at Dante, "Why don't we just get steaks while we're at it? I wonder if there are any more steaks?" He questioned and paused, "Oh and two chickens," He added as he folded the list carefully and placed it back into his pocket and waited, anxiously to make his move all that was needed was for Dante to move and the others would be right behind them.

As he waited, Dodger stole a glance at Dante. Dante and the other Infernals were his family now. They all shared a similar background their parents, families had died from the Wildfire virus. It was their common bond.

Dante slanted a look at Dodger, shaking his head, at the thought. He was a street kid, from a long way back, and fancy food was not something he had on the regular. "Well," he said, "if a cow ever wanders down this way, and we can figure out how to butcher it, maybe there will be steaks. Till then, stick to business." He frowned, going over the whole thing in his head and then laid it out. "Without power, nothing that needs refrigeration is going to be any good. Look for canned meats like spam, tuna fish, and chicken. She can use those. Also pasta, canned red sauce, canned beans. Things like that. Chicken broth we can do. Those come in boxes and they last without refrigeration. Once we get that car pushed across the road to block the 'adults' (which was Dante's way of addressing the weirdly dead) from coming back, everyone loads up a backpack and we'll take some to Auntie and the rest to the den. Same as always."

Dodger listened in silence as Dante spoke When the older teen had finished Dodger replied, "Okay, sounds good. So, look for canned meats, veggies, chicken broth, pasta, sauce, tuna fish, corned beef hash, chicken. What about stuff like crackers, cookies? Can they be added to the list or not?" As he waited for Dante's reply he spoke again. His eyes on the street below. "Everyone's gone. last one left minutes ago. We need to move the car and post sentries in case, well you know." He left the rest unsaid. They both knew what he was referring to. His parents had both been bitten by one of the infected after they unwittingly tried to help. So, much for doing a good deed, He thought sourly. Only Auntie cared about them, and they cared about her. Bringing her food and medicine.

"Good catch, Dodge," Dante said. "The little ones wouldn't forgive us, would they? Also cookies, oatmeal, evaporated milk, and powdered milk if we can get it." He shook his head. "Not that I expect this mom-and-pop grocery to have all of that but dream big, right?"

Dodger inclined his head in a nod. "Thanks Dante." He replied grateful for the praise. "Absolutely right. Never hurts to dream. We'll get all we can carry. What we don't find. I can go and scout for places that might have it and then we can hit them." He answered confidently.

"Probably a good idea." Dante slanted a look at his friend and nodded after a moment. "You know the drill. Stick to the mom and pop shops. Look for the ones that are all locked up and be careful. Wouldn't want the adults to get you."

Dodger grinned at Dante's approval. "I know Dante. I'm not gonna get caught especially by any adults. I'll go a couple of blocks up north. There are some neighborhood stores that might be good picking for us. Maybe even for a couple of trips. I'll scope out the surrounding landscape make sure there is nothing to trip us up."

"Time to get to work," Dante said as he sent the message up the line. The Infernals used the rooftops to watch whenever the group was doing something and there were mirrors on rooftops throughout the area because sometimes you forgot. It was all part of Dante's system. Hidden caches. Hiding places. Tools left where they were needed that didn't look like much to those not in the know. "Think you can work the lock?"

Dodger sprang to his feet. He was ready to go to work. He liked to stay busy, be moving. He was a ball of restless energy. He flashed a brilliant smile and patted his pant leg. "I got my picks, and I haven't met a lock yet that didn't like me Dante, just show me to it and before you know it we'll be inside shopping for Auntie and ourselves. Just make sure the lookouts are in place. We don't need any surprises."

"Go on then," Dante said waving him on. Mirror flashes from the lookouts meant that all was well. Living on the streets had gifted Dante with a particular set of skills; leading the Infernals had changed some of that. He wasn't the one picking all the locks any longer. Now, he remained in an over-watch position, ready to intercede if needed, but trusting Dodger to do his job. That had been, maybe, the hardest lesson for him to learn. Trust. "I'll watch from up here, you head on downstairs and across the street. Once you're in, I'll call them all back. Want to be done and home before dark."

Dodger nodded, "Right." He was already moving. " A minute to get the ground floor. Thirty seconds to cross the street. Not knowing the lock type, I'm giving myself a minute. So, you will have my signal inside five minutes." He said confidently. That was one thing about Dodger, he didn't lack confidence. He wasn't arrogant but he was confident.
"I'll save you a KitKat bar." He grinned, "Oh, tell them to be quiet when they come into the store, we're trying not to attract attention." and then he was gone.

Thirty-seven seconds later a shadowy figure crossed the street to the store. No one was sure how Dodger did it but when he ran, he made almost no noise. Arriving at the door, he chuckled softly as he looked at the lock on the door. It was a Master Lock, a heavy duty one but one he would have no difficulty picking. Pulling out his pouch containing his lock-picks, he selected the correct one and quietly slid into the lock. He deftly moved the pick inside the lock, until he felt the pick connect with the lock/unlock mechanism. His smile grew as with a deft twist of the wrist the lock gave a quiet click and he pushed the door open. It was time to shop!

 

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