“Then I’ll drive you to a store in a twenty-mile radius… or a thirty-mile radius, if that’s what it takes to keep you out of prison.”
Wait, was he being a mini dictator because he was worried about me? Ah. Maybe I was being too harsh? I glanced his way, feeling nothing but irritation when I looked at him. I wanted to explain to him why it had to be this store in particular. That this was the only one for miles around that carried the type of survival supplies I needed to keep us alive. But I couldn’t tell him that without revealing why I was stealing in the first place. The fact of the matter was, I needed Jeremy to help me save RJ.
“Just… please trust me. It has to be this one.”
Jeremy rotated in his seat, staring. The tsking look on his face reminded me of my mother’s. I was a naughty, insolent girl who needed correcting. And maybe, had my apartment not come down on top of me a little over an hour ago, I would have bent to his coercion. But I wasn’t the same girl who had nitpicked my way through dinner last night. Today’s Dani would do whatever she deemed necessary—including looting—to keep RJ breathing.
“You understand that some of those people have guns, right? Are you really willing to get yourself killed for your favorite facewash?”
That Jeremy thought me so shallow that I’d risk my life for Aveeno was the final nail in his coffin. I no longer cared what he thought of me or if he would wait around and drive me back to the scene. I could get back to RJ without him.
My jaw tightened. “I don’t have a choice.”
“You do have a choice. Every single person in that store has a choice—and they’re making the wrong one. Don’t be like them, Dani. You’re better than that.”
Not today I wasn’t. Today I was a soldier, going to war for the man who’d wrapped his grateful arm around me and called me his hero. As long as RJ lived, they could throw me in jail because I’d know in my heart it had all been worth it. But if I did nothing at all and RJ died, I’d never be able to look myself in the eye again.
Jeremy must have taken my moment of quiet reflection as his chance to change my mind. He put his car in gear. “I’m going to play my get-out-of-jail-free card on you,” he said, rolling forward. “You can thank me later.”
“Stop the car,” I demanded, opening the door.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he blasted. “Shut your door.”
“No!” I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I’ll jump if I have to.”
“You’re crazy.” He slammed on the brakes. “Go, if that’s what you want. Get arrested. Get shot. My god. No one needs supplies that bad.”
“I do,” I replied, tears of frustration threatening to fall. “I need them.”
“Why? What can be so important that you risk arrest? That you risk your life? Tell me that.”
I wanted to scream at him, to tell him RJ would die without me, but if he thought this was bad, what would he do if he knew I was planning to go back inside the parking garage? Jeremy had tattler written all over him.
I opened the door. “Thanks for the ride.”
Jeremy shook his head, as if what little hope he still had of being able to salvage something with me had been dashed when he understood the full scope of my mental instability. I let that remain his last thought of me as I climbed out.
Jeremy was gone the second my feet hit the pavement.
There was nothing like a wily band of looters to speed up the shopping process. Typically, I was one of those looky-loo shoppers, who pushed my cart up and down the aisles with no big plan and no big hurry. But today was a wee bit different. Not only was I on a timeline to save RJ, but the situation inside the store was deteriorating quickly, and lawlessness was setting in.
Having a plan and knowing the layout of the store worked to my advantage. I stuck to the periphery, staying low and out of the way of the hardcore ‘shoppers.’ I also avoided the more sought-after areas of the store, like the electronics department and the pharmacy. Much to my surprise, the camping section had not yet been picked apart. You’d think after an earthquake, this would be the first place people would head, but obviously the looters in this store were thinking more long-term survival, like iPhones and TVs with built-in apps.
Grabbing a survivalist-type backpack off the shelf, I began my shoplifting experience by shoving the most basic of supplies into its spacious openings. Lanterns, flashlights, batteries, a first aid kit, space blankets—really just anything I thought might help us get through the night. The only knife I could find was a Swiss Army one, not really going to help the cause, but I swiped it anyway… because I could. Oh, god. I was going to hell.
I’d just managed to wipe those shelves clean when another aftershock hit. Falling to the ground, I protected my head as the world around me rattled. They were getting less intense in strength, but that offered little solace given the fragile house of cards above RJ’s head.
Once the shaking stopped, I watched my fellow looters pick themselves back up and continue the important work of pillaging. These were some hardy souls… But so was I, and until I got something to chip away at the concrete holding RJ down, my shopping spree wasn’t over.
I arrived in the tool aisle, only to join a handful of others filling their carts.
“What do you need, hon?” one woman asked, so welcoming.
“A hammer and chisel.”
“Hammers are over there, but no chisel.”
It was like she’d taken inventory. Disappointed there was nothing of use to free RJ’s foot, I nonetheless swiped the last two hammers off the wall and waved them in the air for her to see. “Thank you.”
“No problem, hon. You have a nice day now.”
I chuckled. This just proved that, when done right, shoplifting didn’t have to be an unpleasant experience. Still, the longer I was here, the more danger I was in. Making my way toward the store’s exit, I stayed low and plucked things off the shelves that might prove valuable while avoiding the place with the most value of all, the pharmacy. A Z-pack or a bottle of painkillers would go a long way to getting RJ through the night, but I was already pushing my luck and didn’t dare head in that direction. The pharmacy was where the diehard looters came out to play.
A pang of guilt gripped me as I exited the store with the stolen contraband slung heavily over my shoulders. I pushed the shame aside, telling myself I would be back to confess my sins, just as I had all those years ago as a five-year-old gum-stealing thief. The consequences this time around would be stiffer, that much I understood, but I hoped maybe they would take into consideration the desperation that had necessitated the action. If not, I’d take my punishment knowing I’d done it to save a life. My chest clenched—if it wasn’t already too late.
I looked around the parking lot, hoping maybe Jeremy had had a change of heart and had circled back around to get me, but he hadn’t. And I didn’t blame him. If the roles had been reversed, and he had asked me to risk my life for J.Lo, I wasn’t sure I’d be all that eager to risk arrest either.
The pack on my back was awkward and heavy, making the nearly two-mile journey back on foot feel endless. After surviving what I had today, my body was depleted. God, I missed Jeremy’s car. And it didn’t help matters that I was also carrying a gallon of water in each hand, the weight of which forced me to stop and rest every fifteen minutes or so. But even as day turned to night, I forged on, arriving back at the apartment complex only to discover that rescue workers were still standing around. Even the giant crane was no longer plucking people off their balconies. It was an eerie sight, almost as if the trapped had been left for dead. And while I understood the reasoning behind the stall, I couldn’t help but be horrified for those who really needed saving. I knew then that I’d made the right decision by going in search of supplies.