Page 4 of The Bounty

This can’t be happening.

I wash the cut as best I can again with bottled water, but yelp as I apply pressure to the wound.

There may still be glass shards inside, but without tweezers…

Shit.

I absolutely need to go back out for supplies.

I groan.

Hopefully, the boarded up gas station will have what I need. Hydrogen peroxide, tweezers, cotton balls…

The rest of the city likes to forget what happened to the buildings over here. They turned a blind eye to the violent protests and the ruined businesses that went up in flames.

And in the end, the elite won.

Pulling my oversized hoodie over my head, I quietly limp down the concrete steps of the apartment building, gripping the iron railing to keep from collapsing. Once I reach the bottom, I open my backpack and spray myself with sanitizer, the overwhelming smell of alcohol enough to make my eyes burn.

Despite the pain, it dulls my scent enough that I won’t be detected for a short while.

Which is why I have to hurry.

Sirens echo in the distance as I keep my head down, walking past gutted cars and plywood. I’m not able to move as fast as I’d like due to the burning pain, and I hold my breath as I finally reach my destination.

The wind howls in my ear. It’s particularly cold for a Southern California night, and I shiver as I hobble to the piece of wood pressed against the front entrance.

Crunch.

My foot smashes a piece of glass, and I freeze.

The wind continues to howl, whipping my hair in my face.

Hopefully my clumsiness was drowned out.

I haven’t seen another person in weeks, so I doubt anyone is near the area.

Even so, I remain cautious.

Moonlight shines in from the sliver of plywood I ripped away, and I click my flashlight as I slowly step inside.

My footscreamsin pain, and I end up half crawling, half limping down the aisles, keeping my head down.

I fill my backpack with water bottles, nutrient bars, and wipes as I make my way past different shelves.

And finally, blessedly, I find the first aid section.

There’s more than enough of what I need.

Opening the front pouch of my backpack, I steal a bottle of peroxide, a tube of antiseptic cream, and a pack of bandages.

Now all that’s left are the tweezers to get the glass shards out of my foot.

CRUNCH.

I freeze.

The noise came from the front of the building, near where I pried the plywood open.