Free Notes From the End of the World by Donna Burgess Page A

it.”
    Actually, the storage room turns out to be a treasure box, if you consider a camp stove, a hunting bow with a half-dozen arrows, and a couple of collapsible water containers treasure. Audrey tries on hiking boots and I grab up a couple of sets of Cold Gear long underwear for each of us, guessing at the sizes. It’s already cold at night and as I said, I hate cold. If the power goes off for any period of time, I certainly don’t want to sit around shivering to death.
    From behind a tall set of shelves, Nick calls out. “Check it out!” He bursts from behind the wall of boxes holding a small black device over his head victoriously.
    Audrey looks up from her stacks of boots. “What the hell’s that?”
    “A hand crank radio.” Nick comes closer. “See?” He turns the crank a couple of time and then begins probing the dial. Static and more static and finally he zeroes in on some windbag talk radio host.
    “…blame your liberal, do-nothing government. When you watch your children die and your spouse become something … not human, blame—”
    Nick snaps it off. “What an asshole,” he mutters. “Anyway, it works. And I might come in useful.”
    He gives it to me. “Tell your dad he owes me,” he says, winking. My heart quickens and I smile, feeling silly.
    Audrey remains in her own little world. “I wonder if there’s any cool bathing suits back here.”
    Nick and I look at each other, then burst out laughing.
    “Are you sure you need to waste time looking for a new bathing suit?” I ask as Audrey vanishes into the back part of the room.
    She rummages through a box labeled Roxy, tossing stringy bras and panties this way and that until she finds one that appeals to her. It’s a cute pink number that I could never pulled off considering my muscular legs and my lack of curves. “I can use it in the spring. By then things will be back to normal.”
    I have to like her optimism, if nothing else.
    A pair of long men’s boardshorts hits me in the chest.
    “There. I found something for you, too.” She cackles as I jerk around to see if Nick heard.
    If he did, he does a good job of not laughing.
    Batteries are still a no-go, but for some reason, I’m inclined to grab a box of JackLinks Beef Jerky. That stuff’s too salty for my tastes, but it’s a good source of protein, according to Dad. I sincerely hope I’ll never become that desperate for protein.
    We leave Dick’s Sporting Goods, Nick pushing a cart with our few items—the handcrank radio, Audrey’s fabulous new bathing suit, the big barrel bat, the jerky, the thermal underwear, and case of Powerade (yellow—my favorite!). He exchanges Instagram handles with Colin, although in all likelihood they’ll never contact each other again, and we leave. Colin doesn’t bother going through the motions of ringing us up.
    I grab a Nike Pink-for-the-Cure soccer ball on the way out and juggle it on my knees as we enter the deserted mall. I try not to think of what might happen to Colin. It’s stupid to worry about a person I knew for all of forty-five minutes. But he seems like a smart guy. Nerds don’t get enough credit for what they know about surviving—bullies, zombies, or bitchy high school cheerleaders.
    Muzak plays over the intercom, too loud against the silence that hangs like a fog.
    “I could learn to live like this,” Audrey says.
    “No, you couldn’t,” I tell her. “Who would you try to impress?” The ball strikes my insole wrong and bounces away. I jog after it and dribble it back to Audrey and Nick, deftly avoiding the defending benches and trash cans.
    “I don’t need to impress anyone, Cindy. Why should I bother with people, anyway? Most of them are shit, I told you.”
    I cut a look at Nick and he rolls his eyes. He’s heard the “people are shit” routine before.
    “Maybe so, Audrey, but it’s better than being totally alone,” Nick says. “The world needs people. People need people.”
    Audrey refuses to relent