Free Notes From the End of the World by Donna Burgess

something.”
    Nick lowers the bat. “Any ideas? We were at Home Depot and it was a madhouse.”
    The carrot-topped Colin shrugs. “We already had the madhouse moment. A couple of days ago. Now, we’re picked clean and down to three workers who aren’t sick and still willing to show up. We probably won’t open Monday.”
    My stomach clenches up. Maybe this really is the end of the world. Businesses are closing. The people who are still healthy are afraid to leave the house.
    We’re at the mall in November and there’s no Christmas decorations. In fact, the few Halloween decorations that were put up are still there.
    I catch Audrey and Nick exchange glances. Then she steps forward and tosses her hair in that way that makes guys fall all over themselves to be near her. Of course, that’s before they find out she’s a total bitch.
    “Are you sure there’s nothing here we can use? Maybe some of that camping food or some kind of containers. Batteries? Our dad will be angry if we come back empty-handed.”
    Audrey could win an Oscar for best actress. Another thing she is better at than I am—lying.
    But it works.
    “Come on,” Colin says. “There’s a few things left in the back. We started hoarding stuff a couple of weeks ago, but since some of us never showed back up, I’m guessing they won’t be needing it, now.”
    We follow Colin, his love handles giggling under his red uniform polo. I notice wearily what appears to be dried blood on the back of his pants leg. I hope it’s mud, but in the back of my mind, I know it isn’t. Unless you live in a cave, we all have seen something terrible at this point.
    I can picture him waiting out the zombie apocalypse with a stack of X-Men comics and a PS4 running on a generator. He doesn’t appear very shook up at the moment, so I see him being fairly happy, sort of like the little man who only wanted time to read in that old episode of Twilight Zone I watched with Dad when the SyFy Channel ran that marathon last Fourth of July.
    “Why have you even bothered coming back this week?” I ask. “I mean, if nearly everything’s gone and nobody’s coming in, what’s the point?”
    Colin pulls a key from his pants and unlocks the door to the storage room. “I don’t know why I’m still locking this,” he says apologetically. He reaches inside, flips on the lights, and we follow him in.
    “I think I was trying to just go on living as normally as I could,” he says, “but I stopped going to school a few days ago. I go to Tech part-time, but the last time I went, people were just wandering around on campus. The instructors had stopped coming.”
    Clothing and shoes scatter the floor of the big room. Nick grabs a lacrosse stick and pretends to play. He makes a rake move and takes off across the room. Colin looks amused. “So, what school do you guys go to?”
    “Palm Dale High,” Audrey tells him, still pretending she’s friendly.
    Colin shoves his hands deep into his pockets and grins. “Thought so. I could tell by how you’re dressed.”
    “What the heck does that mean?” Audrey snaps, the faux-friendliness instantly gone. She stomps toward the chunky salesguy.
    Colin jumps backward. “No offense!” He holds his hands up in front of him. “I meant you all are dressed…kinda rich. I would’ve figured you guys would be safe from…all this.”
    Audrey sighs. “We don’t dress rich. Our parents are too tight with money.”
    “Audrey. C’mon.” My sister’s mental age varies from day to day. Today she’s hovering between twelve and fourteen. Looking at Colin, I say, “Nobody’s safe.”
    Colin moves deeper into the starkly lit room. “Listen. Take what you think you can use. I doubt you’ll find much, anyhow. Just keep your mouths shut about it. Okay?”
    He makes his way toward the door. “Just don’t make it obvious. If anyone else is in the store when you’re finished, just come through the checkout. Hand my your card, but I won’t run