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“Stay quiet.” The harsh whisper came from somewhere to her right, and Maddie fought the urge to yell something back at her.
“I need water,” she whispered, letting her annoyance come through with the words.
There was a moment of silence, then the footsteps started again.
“Water won’t matter if you get bit.”
Maddie’s fist tightened around her cane, but before she could respond, the woman continued.
“On the right. Two aisles down.”
Maddie paused, then moved in that direction, following the sound of the boots. “I didn’t ask for your help,” she muttered, swinging her cane back and forth.
“I didn’t offer,” the woman answered, somewhere in front of her. “Just don’t make noise or you’ll get us both killed.”
Maddie bit back a response, focusing instead on what her fingers touched as they grazed the items to her left.
Her fingers trailed over smooth plastic that crinkled beneath her touch. She pressed gently and listened to the crinkling once again.
Chips? Or something similar.
She continued on the path, navigating with the cane while carefully running her fingertips along the items as she walked toward the bright white orbs. Every few feet, she felt the cane knock against some small object on the floor, but nothing large enough to get in her way. And nothing that made a noise like the first time.
With the next swipe of her cane, she felt the border of the aisle to her left disappear, signaling the end. She continued, turning, feeling for the row in the next aisle.
Once she did, she reached her hand out once more and repeated the process, feeling each item as she passed.
Boxes.
More crinkling bags.
More boxes.
Then something hard and plastic.
Laundry detergent?
She paused.
No, not laundry detergent. The plastic felt too flimsy.
She pushed her fingers harder against it, and the thin plastic dented inward. Then she moved her hand around the tall rectangular container until it stopped at the cap at the top. Shewrapped her hand around it and jiggled it from side to side, listening to the liquid inside slosh back and forth.
It had to be a water jug.
She tucked the handle of her cane beneath her armpit and used her other hand to twist off the cap. Then she lifted the heavy jug and brought the opening to her nose.
No smell.
She slowly lifted it to her lips, then tipped it forward just enough to let a few drops into her mouth.
Her lip tugged upward as she swallowed down the bit of cool liquid. She took a few more small sips, then crouched, setting it on the floor and screwing the cap back on. She removed her backpack and shifted the items around before setting the jug carefully inside.
Then she returned the now much heavier backpack to her shoulders, shifting uncomfortably against the added weight. It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do.
A faint noise came from somewhere off to her right. Rattling—almost like pill bottles being shaken back and forth.
“Hey,” she whisper-yelled. “What happened to being quiet?”