To stay locked away in the house and do nothing just isn’t in Matt’s nature, no matter how bleak things look. For the next four days he and Jason are looting from dusk till dawn to build up a decent stockpile of supplies. They target unremarkable-looking residential properties mostly, quickly developing a serviceable double-act routine: look for the houses where there are no obvious signs of life, or very obvious signs of death, then stake them out to be sure. Once they’re as certain as they can be that no one’s coming in or going out, they’ll get closer. Once they’re sure the houses are empty, they break in and strip whatever they can find.
There’s slim pickings to be had. The effort involved does not directly translate into results. They’re more than three months into the fighting. Even if there was food here once, it’s almost certainly been used up, stolen, or gone bad by now.
They find plenty of bodies, though. In one house yesterday they were attacked by its sole remaining occupant who they’d presumed was dead. She’d crawled across the corpses of her housemates to get to them, disentangling herself from a mass of death. Events had clearly driven her out of her mind. She had all the ferocity of a Hater, but lacked the intent.
The military compound where Matt first encountered Franklin and Estelle is the last place he can think of trying. He’d previously made a conscious decision to stay away, but right now the military looks like their only remaining option. No one else is going to risk stealing from the CDF. He knows you’d have to either be desperate or a real fucking idiot to try it. Right now, he thinks he might be both.
The compound has been overrun. This place had been a walled oasis of space in the midst of the otherwise endless congestion, but not today. The entrance gate lies buckled and smashed, brought down by a garbage truck which has been abandoned in the courtyard.
Jason hesitates when he sees the crowds. “Is there any point?”
“We’re here now,” Matt replies, already wading into the masses.
They go everywhere, checking the parts of the complex Matt knew and those he hadn’t previously explored. “Waste of fucking time,” Jason grumbles when they’ve completed almost a full circuit. “Doesn’t look like your mates put up much of a fight.”
“They weren’t my mates,” Matt quickly corrects him. “Think about what you’re saying, though.”
“What?”
“How many times have I told you to not just accept everything you’re seeing? To think about why instead of just what?”
“You piss me off when you get pretentious like this.”
“I’m being serious. Look around. What do you see?”
“Loads of people looking for stuff that isn’t there.”
“My point exactly. Where’s the weaponry? The CDF people who were based here would have defended themselves. They were heavily armed, for Christ’s sake. Where’s the battle damage and the bodies?”
“So you’re saying they abandoned this place?”
“Exactly. I reckon they packed up and shipped out while no one was looking.”
He changes direction, heading back across the courtyard toward the stores building Estelle showed him first time he was here.
“What’s this?” Jason asks as they enter the lockup.
“When I first came here this place was filled with supplies, now there’s not a single scrap left. There was heavy duty, dual-controlled locks and everything. They must have airlifted everything out, either that or they’d been gradually emptying it over time.”
“Great.”
“There’s no point wasting any more time here. If the CDF had left anything worth taking, someone else would have had it by now. Let’s go home.”
Back out on the street, Jason pulls Matt closer. “So who’s in charge when the military disappear? The people? Militias?”
“You tell me. Scares me to think about it. It used to be whoever had the most cash or influence or fame … None of that counts for anything anymore. I guess it’ll be the strongest who survive.”
“Those who can hit hardest?”
“Probably.”
“So the Haters, then? ’Cause that’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? The strongest will survive, and that’s them. Stuck in here like this, we’re just sitting ducks.”