//------------------------------// // Scavenge // Story: Sunset: Stranded // by Viking ZX //------------------------------// Chapter Five - Scavenge She found the Food Barn easily enough. Or at least, whatever the locals called it. But it was close enough to the larger “Food Barn” Barnyard Bargains store she’d seen back in Canterlot that her brain almost immediately galloped to the name. It looked reasonably intact too. Sure, some of the large, sheet-glass windows across the front of the store had cracked, and there was one corner of the building that was sagging slightly, but it didn’t look that bad. The same couldn’t be said of the lot out front for the carriages. From the look of things, it had been the site of several accidents during whatever … event … the city had suffered. Not only were there carriages that had simply been abandoned atop the strangely textured surface, but somehow several had been thrown up on their sides or upside down. A few had even smashed into one another, their metal sides warped and dented. Some of the damage might have come from a titanic crater in the center of the lot, but it was hard to tell. Though grass and greenery had long-since sprouted across the gaping wound in the ground, it was both wide enough and deep enough that at first she almost had thought its cause some sort of explosion, a blast of some kind that had hurled the nearby carriages into the air. Except … that would have shattered all the glass, Sunset thought as she neared the edge, slowing her steps. She wasn’t sure how far down it was—Being transformed without any point of reference is really strange—but it looked to at least drop down as two or even three times her own height. Plus … that looks like more of the strange material the lot is made out of. She could see the pebbly texture where the stuff had crumbled. It was almost like glued-together gravel. Still, if it had been an explosion that made the crater in front of her, then it would have flung the material away. Some sort of … collapsing spell? Again, there was something about the hole that put her on edge, even with all the grass growing up out of it. Something she couldn’t explain. Maybe magic? She peered down into the crater for a moment longer, but as with the smaller ones she’d seen around the city, again she could see no reason why the strange landmark made her so nervous. Other than it clearly being something that’s out of place. She turned to one side, skirting the edge of the hole and occasionally giving it quick glances. Really out of place. Ahead of her was one of the wrecks, two carriages crumpled where they had crashed into one another. A quick glance at the point of impact showed that there were no bones crushed between the two, further solidifying her theory that the carriages moved by some sort of magic power. Maybe if I can figure out how to access my magic in this new body, I can get one of them working. It would sure beat walking. Her new … rear-hoof-replacement-things were already getting sore. As were her legs. It’s official, she noted as the front of the store neared. Two legs is definitely worse than four. The least this body could have is a pair of wings or something! She scowled, only to pause as she neared close enough to the front entrance of the store to see that the front doors were already open. No, worse, she thought, coming to a stop. Those have been forced open. Somehow, the glass on both sets seemed to have survived whatever event the city had suffered. But a length of chain lying in the ground by the handles told the second half of the story. Someone had locked the doors tightly … only for someone else to have torn them open. Now that she was closer, she could see where the latch holding the door shut had been destroyed as well, the metal around it warped and twisted. But also old. The bit of chain was so weathered she could hardly tell where it had been broken originally through the  thick build up of dust and dirt around where it lay. And the battered metal of the door’s latch was equally aged. Whoever had broken in had done so long ago. On the other hoof, they’d likely done so after the city had suffered its battle. “Which means there are survivors,” Sunset said quietly. “Someone made it out.” And then had come back, though they hadn’t stayed. Or they had, and were watching her. A shiver worked its way down her spine, strange bumps rising on her arms. She rubbed one of them for a moment until the chill passed. Relax. No one’s watching you. Still, the thought did make the motion of stepping through the half-open doors a bit more daunting. Especially as the light around her dimmed, the shadows inside growing as she realized exactly how dirty the windows had been. “Get a grip, Sunset.” There was a second set of doors, and unlike the first, they were neither open nor locked. There were faint lines scraped in the dust where the last visitor had pulled the door aside, but they were faded and old. No one had come in or out in a long time. Not that the inside looked that appealing. The inner glass of the vestibule was cleaner than the outer, but not by too much. Just enough for her to make out the dim shapes of what looked quite a lot like empty shelves. The inner doors let out a loud, languid squawk as she pulled the handle, budging maybe an inch before grinding to a halt. She scowled and pulled again, the squeak ringing out once more but again terminating in a grinding rattle of metal as the door stopped. In frustration she tried the opposing handle, only for it to scrape to a halt just inches past the first. “Fine.” She set her knife down, wrapping both hands around the handle of the first door and bracing herself with her legs, leaning back and putting her full weight on the handle as she pulled while trying not to give in to the feeling that she was falling over. The door rattled slightly but held, and her scowl deepened. “Come on, you mangy hunk of metal …” She pulled herself up before dropping her weight back on her arms and pushing with her legs. The door rattled but didn’t give. Again. “Give …” She dropped and pulled, a grinding noise not unlike getting a mouthful of dirt coming from the hinges. “It …” Another drop. The gap between the doors widened by an inch. “U—” The door let out a grinding rasp, giving way with a jerk before stopping just as abruptly as before. Her fingers slipped free of the handle, and she let out a shriek as she toppled back, landing abruptly on her hindquarters. “Ow …” For a moment she sat there, hands splayed out behind her in the dust, eyes glaring at the door. The gap had widened … but not by much. Something was digging into her behind. She leaned to one side, swaying slightly before the unfamiliar motion evened out, and probed with one hand. Hard, dulled brass looked up at her from the dust. “Another brass tube,” she said, tossing the offending item at the partially open door. It hit the glass with a faint tick and bounced away. “How many of these am I going to find?” At least she hadn’t landed on her knife. Her eyes dropped to the long blade and she shivered. I need to get that thing a sheath as soon as possible. But the gap in the door was wider now … Maybe wide enough. She pushed herself up, dusting her palms off against one another and grimacing as she saw the dirt and soot stuck to them. I wonder what the likelihood of me finding a shower somewhere around here that still works is? She pushed that thought out of her head quickly enough. Odds were it’d be baths in her future. Cold ones, unless she could figure out a way to heat some water. At least I don’t have a coat anymore. Drying herself off would be a lot easier, she suspected, once she was out of her clothes. Though she’d need to wash those as well ...  She shook her head, mane whipping around her. Later. She picked up her knife once more and peered through the now widened gap. The inside of the store was dim, but it had definitely been a food market of some kind, not too dissimilar from Barnyard Bargains. She gave the air a tentative sniff. It smelled dusty and dry, with a hint of earthiness to it. But there was no underlying sharpness of rot. Then again, who knew how many years it had been since the city was abandoned. She twisted her body to one side, awkwardly trying to shuffle herself through the gap and letting out a yelp of discomfort as her pack snagged, jerking the top of her body and shoving her front against the metal. “Ow …” she said, stepping back out of the gap and glaring down at her chest. “These things are sensitive.” What a stupid place for teats. Still there was nothing she could do about it at the moment. She shucked her pack from her back, setting it by the open gap. “There.” It was still awkward fitting through the gap even without the pack, but she fit. She slid through, turned to pick up her pack— And screamed, jumping back as she saw the large figure standing on one side of the door, clad in armor and looking right at her. She swiped wildly with the knife, but the figure didn’t even twitch as the blade whistled right past them. Something collided with the backs of her legs, yanking her feet out from beneath her. She fell backward, landing in a display with a higher-pitched shriek. Fingers slipped over what felt like carpet as she pushed herself back, one hand bringing the knife up to point at her attacker. She was scrambling, sliding, mane falling around her face and— “Get back!” She didn’t even know if the figure could understand her. What if it were one of those monsters she’d seen outside? But it was too tall to be one of them, and too … She paused for a moment, still holding the knife out in one shaking hand. The figure was too flat. She let out a shaky, nervous laugh as her eyes took in the abrupt edges to the figure’s form, the way the dim light played over their shape. Or rather, their lack of shape. It was a cutout. Made of cardboard, probably. Placed right by the entrance. There was a faded box of something in the figure’s hand. She let out another shakey laugh, turning her head but not taking her eyes off of the cardboard cutout. Yeah. Definitely cardboard. Nice job, Sunset. Some adventurer you are. You just got scared by an advertisement. And backed into a shelf and fell over. She pushed herself off of the display case, noting with a twinge of disgust that she’d picked up even more dirt and grime. Some of which looked to have come from mummified fruits of some kind. “Yuck.” She glared at the cutout. It’s positioning made sense but at the same time … she wanted to be angry at it. At least no one was around to see me scream like a little filly. Hopefully. The thought sent another faint chill crawling down her back, and she peered out at the rest of the store. Suddenly the dark, dry interior looked even less welcoming. But … at least it was recognizable. She could see the wired shapes of shopping carts over to her right, next to row after row of places where ponies—or whatever this species was—paid for their goods. There were the display areas that she was in, all of which looked empty … and then there were the shelves. Row upon row of them. Dark rows. She frowned. I don’t have a horn I can light anymore. Worse, she didn’t have a magilight in her pack. But I’m here now, and the door is open … She stepped up the entryway again, eyes still fixed on the cardboard cutout, even as she grasped with one hand and found the straps of her pack. “Wow,” she said, still staring as she slid the pack back onto her shoulders. “Big, aren’t you?” She was fairly certain he was male, at least judging from the massive muscles on display. What she’d taken for as armor at first glance now looked a lot more like a sporting uniform of some kind. A sports star then, like hoofball. They were holding one hand out, thumb raised upwards. The other held a box of something that had … She lifted a hand and wiped a layer of dust away. Yup, that’s him. A sponsor, then. Of what looked like a cereal of some kind. She brought her gaze up to the cutout’s head. He was grinning, eyes alight with good cheer. There were streaks of paint of some kind on his face—again, similar to hoofball in a way—and his mane had been cropped so close he was almost bald. The tone of his skin was quite a bit darker than hers as well. Were skin colors like a pony’s coat, then? Or was hers out of the ordinary? No, there had been a range in the pictures in the guard brochure too. Still, she thought, staring up at the figure. If it was life-sized it was easily a head again taller than she was. Or more. He’s kind of attractive in a rugged sort of—AIIIE! She jerked back, stepping away from the cutout and looking down at her hands in shock. Are you kidding me Star Swirl? Are you kidding me!? Are you— She screwed her mouth up, holding back a scream. You went all the way? Part of her knew it made sense. If you were going to use almost incomprehensible levels of magical power to fully change someone’s species, why go half measures? Especially if you were going to be going to an alien world where you might need some of the same reflexes and general instincts of whatever you became. Walking on two legs, for instance. But that? Sunset let out a faint “blegh” and scowled at the cutout. If I ever get the chance, Star Swirl, I’m kicking your tail so hard it comes out your nose. Right. New goal. No … going native. Not that far, anyway. You’re here for your destiny. For what you can become. Not that. Not that there weren’t interspecies couples back in Equestria. They weren’t common, but— “Nope.” She turned, not even noticing how well she’d spun on one heel. “Nope. We’re not dealing with that yet. Water and food first. Freaking out over new two-legged furless minotaur body later.” She let out a final huff, then moved out past the empty display cases. If there had been anything left by whoever had been there before her, it had long since ended up as some sort of dried sludge. The shelves were a bit more promising. At a distance, anyway. As she drew closer, eyes adjusting to the dark light, she could see how empty they were, and she felt her stomach sink. Here and there she could make out what looked like small boxes or packages of something … but as she reached out and touched one with her fingers, she could feel the lightness of it. Another sagged, the cardboard brittle and weathered. A third felt promising … until the thin layer of plastic over it peeled away, exposing a faint whiff of stench that made her nose wrinkle. “Yuck.” Still … she thought as she moved to another row. There are a lot of shelves. Not everything can be gone. “Just … most of it,” she said as she caught sight of the empty rows of shelving. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.” I’ve got some food in my pack. I could find water. “Maybe I should have been focusing on shelter.” But I’m here now, she reminded herself as she made her way back down the next aisle, eyes probing the shadows for any sign of useful items. A cylindrical shadow in the back of one shelf caught her eye, and she stepped closer, giving it a more thorough look before tentatively poking at it with her knife. A metal can rolled out at her, the label faded and wrinkled. An image of a fruit was printed on it … but the side of the can was dented, rust faintly visible in the low light. Horsefeathers. She shoved it back, trying not to start as it hit the back of the metal shelves with a metallic thud. “Rusted.” Rusted cans were bad. She wasn’t sure who had taught her that, but she’d remembered the lesson. Someone from the castle kitchens, maybe. Or one of the Guard. “Doesn’t matter,” she said, her voice quiet. “Not now.” She reached the front of the store and started forward again, walking in the center of the next aisle, panning her eyes back and forth, looking for any signs of something that had been left. Whoever emptied this place was thorough, she thought. A faint bit of shadow caught her eyes, and she moved closer to one shelf. The tip of her knife probed into the black, and three plastic-wrapped boxes, each the size of her palm, slid out from the back end of the shelf. That looks like … raisins? If they were, and the packing was still sealed … She tapped it with a finger. The material felt sound. Well, it’s something at least. But three small boxes of raisins, if that was what they were, wouldn’t last her long. And I still need water. She came to a stop as she reached the end of the row, glancing back at the distant doors. Maybe this was a waste of time. Someone, or a lot of someone’s maybe. But they definitely cleaned this place out. That, and if I did find something substantial … She glanced back at her pack. Water is heavy, and I’m not on four legs anymore. Which means carrying water could be a lot more difficu—Ugh! She started back down the next row, another scowl on her face. If Prince— If she had just let me embrace my destiny, maybe I wouldn’t be having this problem. She lashed out with a boot, kicking away a partially-torn box. It bounced off of one of the nearby shelves. What if she succeeded. What if I’m not in the right place at all? She shook her head, slowing as the sudden motion played at her new balance. “No,” she said aloud. “She had a vision. And those don’t lie.” Unless she lied about that too. But no, she hadn’t. What little she’d let slip … and her expression at doing so … Sunset had known her since she’d been a filly. She had been like a mother. She hadn’t lied. She’d had a vision. A prophecy. And those did not lie. “And that means I’m in the right place,” she said, wiping something hot and wet away from her cheek. She stared down at it in shock. When had that happened? She blinked her eyes a few times, driving the dampness away and drying it on the sleeve of her jacket. “Forget it,” she said. “She didn’t believe in you. Don’t prove her right.” She scowled again, eyes narrowing as she turned to the next row. “Prove her wrong.” Unfortunately, the next row didn’t have much in the way of her goal either. A single box of what she guessed was a baking mix of some kind that had stayed dry. She added it to her pack. A bit further on she found a pile on the ground of something, though she wasn’t sure what. The plastic bags had long since split, and as she neared the whole pile seemed to writhe as hundreds of bugs swarmed away. She backtracked to the next aisle after that, only to be met with utensils and cooking implements. Which would be great … if I had a stove. Or any food to cook. She moved on. Past rows of spatulas, forks, spoons … She grabbed two each of the latter. She didn’t have any in her pack. And quite a few, judging from the disproportionate numbers, had already been taken. But it wasn’t food. Or water. The next aisle had something that was almost useful. Scented soaps of all kinds. Someone had knocked several off the shelves in the past, some of the plastic containers cracking and leaving a sticky residue on the floor. After one misstep, she avoided the others, one boot clinging slightly and coming free with a faint syrupy slurp for the remainder of the row. This is it, she thought, turning onto the last aisle. The musky smell was stronger here. Against the wall of the food barn were shelves of a different kind, thicker and heavier looking. Whatever had graced their racks had long since rotted, leaving behind a dark sludge that looked quite a bit like the compost she’d seen around the castle gardens. The shelving opposite them was bare. So that’s it then. One box of … something … and some raisins. Maybe. Someone else, or rather a whole group, had already taken what they wanted from the place. Maybe. There was still one place she could check. There had to be a back somewhere, right? A … she thought back on her lessons for a moment, trying to place the word. Receiving dock? The food on the shelves had to come from somewhere. The Palace had been home to several doors for such shipments, brought in regularly to stock the pantry. Pri— She had taught a lesson on it once. A brief switch from the more common lessons in magic. Magic I can’t even access right now. A scowl graced her face. Some mage I turned out to be. Focus, Sunset. Her mane whipped around her head as she shook it again. Later. You can examine this new body and figure out how to access your magic later. Right now, you need to prioritize. Focus on finding water. Then food and shelter. Or was it shelter first? Ugh! Forget it! She lashed out with her boot without thinking, sending a stray clump of … something, she wasn’t sure what, skittering across the floor. It bounced off of the base of one of the shelves with a muted clunk. Come on, Sunset. Her fingers were clenched so tightly they almost hurt. Just … check the back rooms or whatever, then start looking at the nearby stores. Maybe you’ll have more luck there. “Yeah, maybe.” And now you’re talking to yourself? Some destined leader you turned out to be. She scowled, but headed for the back of the store, boots kicking aside more clumps. I really need to find someplace to take off all this clothing and see what I look like underneath it. I definitely feel different. And come to think of it, the Palace had a laundry room for cleaning clothing as well as napkins and other stuff. She could already see smudges on her legs from climbing over some of the low walls and rubble outside. There was probably more on her back from falling so much. I might need to find some way of cleaning them. If I had my horn I could just use a few cleaning spells, but until then … Her eyes drifted down to her hands. Manual labor? Like some magic-less thing? Ugh! At the end of the row the heavy shelving turned, and she followed, moving along the back wall of the store. It was darker in the back, the few windows both high above in the ceiling and covered in dirt. As well as small. What little light they let in was enough for her to see basic shapes and the general decay of the place … but not enough to make out any fine detail. She could also see that she’d been wrong about what the “back” of the store was when she’d walked through the aisles. What she’d taken for the back was actually a long series of glass countertops. Or at least, had been at one point. Most of them had been shattered, broken or otherwise destroyed. They must have held food, she thought as her eyes made out darker shapes behind them, stations and desks. Did someone smash the glass to get at it? Still, it looked like there was plenty of open space behind the broken countertops. And she could see a path around them, if one that was a little convoluted. One that looked like it might lead to a doorway of sorts, though it was hard to tell through the darkness. She reached out for her magic out of pure reflex, only to frown when once again she felt … nothing. This planet can’t be magicless. Maybe it’s just temporary. You’ve got to get used to the field here. Or the trip through the portal drained all your magic to help fuel the transformation spell. She slowed to a halt as she considered the last one. That … actually does make sense. True transformation magic is insanely powerful stuff otherwise. Alicorn-level. Maybe that’s how the portal does it. Still it didn’t help her now. At the moment. Staring at what looked like a dark doorway in the back of a thoroughly wrecked location. Let’s see … Venture into the dark alone, without a light? Or look for another way in that’s less rough and maybe a bit more well-lit? Yeah, that’s not a hard decision. I’ve read a few horror books. And the remains of the thing she’d found in the courtyard had been just as eerie looking as the worst creature from any of them. Now I wish I’d read a few more. She kept to the far side of the aisle as she passed the smashed counters, knife at the ready and eyes on the ground in front of her, carefully poking her way among the shards of glass that had made it as far as she was. Ahead of her the row of broken counters came to an end, the last one terminating in splintered and shattered glass that radiated out from jagged points of impact, like something a spell or a crossbow bolt would have left. She couldn’t see any sign of a bolt through the dim light, though. Another sign of their weapons? She moved on, increasing her pace as she left the glass behind. There was more shelving now, and plenty of it, wrapping around the back wall. Just as barren as what she’d seen before too. But there was a decent-sized depression near the far end. Certainly looks like a pair of doors. But that means I walked right past it earlier. Then again, I was looking at the shelves. For all the good it had done her. They were definitely doors. Large, taller than she was even in her new body, and wide, wide enough that perhaps one of the carriages she’d seen from outside could have driven through the pair of them had they been open. Which they weren’t. They were closed, though she couldn’t tell how tightly in the faint light. As she drew closer, a faint, black band grew between the two sides. A gap, maybe a finger-width across. And beyond it … nothing. She swallowed, a faint, dry crawl moving down her spine as she came to a stop in front of the two doors. What I wouldn’t give for one of the magilights the guard have right now, she thought as she stared at the black line. Then she squared her shoulders, her throat giving her a faint itch of thirst as she lifted her blade once more. It probably wouldn’t do much, but … it was what she had. She pressed her free hand up against the rightmost door and pushed. It was … heavier … than she’d expected, barely moving as she leaned her body into it. But it was moving, she could feel that much. Just … not very much. “Come on.” The band of black widened slightly as she pressed harder. “Open up.” The door rocked on its hinges, faint, quiet squeaks coming from the metal as they rocked back and forth. Did someone block this? But no, it was rocking back and forth rather than stopping cold. It just wasn’t giving much. She pressed again, harder this time, then stepped forward and shoving the door again and again, each time with more force. The door rocked further with the third impact, the hinges letting out slightly louder squeaks and the black band growing slightly larger for a moment, but that was it. Part of her wanted to turn back. To walk away and check somewhere else. But that would be admitting defeat. And I didn’t come this far to be turned away because of a door! She pressed her whole forearm against the door, leaning her body into it. Again it gave only slightly, the squeak from the hinges louder and mixed with a faint grinding sound. There wasn’t enough light to make them out, but they had to be rusted and caked with dust. But if her body’s weight was what it took to make them move … She shifted her weight, pressing her shoulder up against the door and making sure her free hand—the one with her knife—was pointed away so that she wouldn’t cut herself upon it. Then she reared back, rocking her whole body to and fro to slam into the stuck door. With a sudden, grinding screech it gave, the black gap widening by several inches. She pulled back and slammed her shoulder into the door again, pleased that the heavy, thudding impact didn’t seem to hurt that much. Once more the door gave, the black gap widening enough that she could have stuck her head through it. She slammed her body into the door a final time, and with a grinding shriek the hinges gave, the door swinging most of the way open before coming to an abrupt halt so sudden she let out a cry of surprise as she smashed into it. “Ow.” She pulled herself away from the partially open door, her free hand rubbing at her forehead. That might leave a mark. Thankfully, the rubbing motion seemed to help, much as it had in her old body. At least that stayed the same, she thought, peering into the now open gap. Now, let’s see what … Her train of thought trailed off as she saw what lay past the now-open door. Its swing had come to a stop because of the mass of twisted metal behind it, a bent shelf that had fallen crosswise across the space behind the door … and then been crushed by part of what she guessed was the ceiling coming down on top of it. At least that explained which corner of the building she’d seen from outside was the sagging one. But that wasn’t what had stolen her attention. Beneath the twisted mass of metal and what was probably a support beam, a vaguely bipedal figure had been pinned. A massive, bulky figure, larger than any of the bodies she’d seen so far, and clad in armor that looked far more … brutal. One arm was outstretched, as if it had been trying to pull itself free when it had expired, but it had been pinned. Though not, she suspected, crushed enough to die. At least, not right away. Not judging from the etched scrawls left in the dusty tiles near its outstretched, bony hands. A shiver crawled down her spine. Claw marks. With clawed tips to each of the boney fingers to match. Whatever this creature was, while it was similar in structure to the species she’d become, it was not the same. She bent down on one knee, sidling her body to one side so as to block as little light as possible. The skull was lying on its side, facing her. The teeth were all in wicked-looking points. Like the bones of that creature I found earlier, she thought. Was that a juvenile? Is this what it becomes? She peered further back, trying to catch some sight of its lower half, but between the dark light and mass of metal pinning it down, she couldn’t make anything out. Still, she thought, a fresh burst of fear welling inside her. She pushed it aside, forcing herself to look closer. I don’t think … No, this couldn’t be an adult version of the thing I found outside. The forelimbs were shaped completely wrong. Not without a very aggressive regrowth period. Which was possible, but … It does take a lot of energy. The skull was shaped differently too. It’d be a lot of work. No, best to consider them seperate species, but possibly related. But unlike the thing she’d seen outside, which looked to have been outfitted in armor that was like something someone would put on a pet, this looked … Well, like it was worn. She swallowed, her mouth dry as she took a closer look at the remains. The armor was rough and brutal, a lot like what she had seen in history books from the Burning Lands. But somehow even moreso, though she couldn’t quite put words to how. It just was. Heavy, dense bone. Sharp teeth. Claws. Pouches on the armor. All hallmarks of intelligence. Another intelligent species at war with the ones I’ve become a part of? A spell gone wrong? There was no way to tell. Not without more information. But at the moment, I can officially say … this thing gives me the creeps. It was almost a relief to pull back and stand once more. But as she did, she noticed something. Lying against the back of the other door, the one she hadn’t opened, was another one of the weapons like the ones she’d seen outside. It was more rounded, and yet more … harsh … in its design. Almost like it had been made with an eye for functionality and then elegance, but an angry, harsh elegance. And one of the creature’s outstretched hands had been reaching right for it, even as it had died. Definitely intelligence. And given that it was going for a weapon, even as it died … She let another shiver slide down her back. What sort of a creature does that? Reaches for its weapon even as it’s dying? Unless … the armor had truly only pinned it, and it hadn’t been able to work its way free. But then … could it have, if given time? There were gaps in the wreckage, black voids that led further back into the rear of the store. But suddenly she wanted to be as far from the store as possible. Swallowing again, the dryness in her throat protesting the very motion, she wrapped her fingers around the edge of the door and tugged. With a faint squeal, it gave, swinging shut once more and closing out her view of the creature’s bones. She was shaking, her hands and arms trembling. She wasn’t sure when it had started. She just wanted to leave the store as quickly as possible and go somewhere—anywhere—else. To take her meager findings, the three boxes of what she hoped were raisins that she wasn’t even sure she could eat, and go. She turned and headed back toward the front of the store, back down the empty aisles and toward the cardboard cutout of the grinning figure advertising his box of something. Back toward the dirty windows and the open doors and the beaming sun outside. Maybe coming here was a mistake, she thought. And the worst of it was, as she made her back to the dusty doors, sparing a single glance at the wide grin of the cutout … She couldn’t say where here was, the store or the world.