Hoarding Resources In Apocalypse

Chapter 8

Ciro walked into the Tactical Defense Expo Sunday morning with a shopping list that would raise red flags at any normal retail store but here among the preppers and survivalists and off-grid enthusiasts nobody blinked twice at a man buying weapons and ammunition and backup defense systems. 

The expo hall was massive with vendor booths selling everything from crossbows to body armor to dehydrated meals rated for twenty-year shelf life and the air smelled like gun oil and coffee and paranoia.

He moved through the aisles systematically adding items to his mental inventory that the fortress contractors wouldn't provide without extensive background checks and waiting periods he didn't have time for. 

A compound bow with fifty carbon fiber arrows because crossbows were quieter than guns and arrows could be reused. Tactical knives with serrated edges. 

Bear spray in industrial canisters. Pepper spray grenades. Tasers. Everything legal enough to purchase without ID but effective enough to defend a fortress against desperate frozen people pounding on bulletproof glass.

 Ciro stopped at a booth selling high-end emergency radio systems and was examining a solar-powered ham radio when a woman's voice spoke beside him.

"You seem to be among the smart few actually preparing for what's coming."

Ciro turned and saw a woman in her early thirties with dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail and designer sunglasses pushed up on her head.

 She wore expensive black activewear that probably cost five hundred dollars and carried a shopping basket filled with premium survival gear. Thousand-dollar water filtration systems and military-grade first aid kits and emergency blankets that cost more than most people's weekly groceries.

 "I like to be ready for emergencies," Ciro said carefully.

The woman smiled but it looked practiced and hollow. "Emergencies. That's a diplomatic way to phrase it. I can sense a cold coming from the east. Something terrible and unstoppable and most people think I'm absolutely insane for saying it but you're standing here buying the same equipment I am so you must feel it too."

Ciro studied her more carefully and noticed the way her hands trembled slightly when she touched the survival gear and the darkness under her eyes that expensive concealer couldn't quit hide and the tight set of her jaw like she was holding herself together through sheer stubborn willpower.

"Is that the only reason you're here?" Ciro asked quietly. "Your broken heart says otherwise."

The woman's smile faltered and genuine surprise flickered across her face. "That obvious? I thought I was hiding it better." She set down the radio she'd been pretending to examine. 

"My husband cleaned out our joint accounts three days ago and moved in with his personal trainer. Took half my business investments too because I was stupid enough to put his name on the paperwork."

Her laugh came out bitter. "So yes I'm here preparing for my illusion shelves Apocalypse and also desperately trying to distract myself from the fact that I've been completely betrayed by someone I trusted for eight years."

Ciro felt something unexpected twist in his chest. Recognition maybe. "I know that feeling."

"Do you?" She looked at him skeptically.

"My girlfriend helped the man who killed me steal everything I had."

The woman blinked. "Killed you? That's a strange way to phrase it."

Ciro realized his mistake but didn't correct it. "Metaphorically. They destroyed my old life. I'm building a new one now."

The woman nodded slowly like that made perfect sense. "I'm Elena Martinez." She extended her hand. "Formerly married and currently furious Preparing for the end of the world as a healthy coping mechanism."

Ciro shook her hand. "Ciro Novelli.”

They walked through the expo together for the next hour and Elena asked intelligent questions about gear specifications and backup power systems and water storage capacity. 

 She wasn't playing helpless or fishing for compliments or angling for access to his money. She was genuinely preparing for something catastrophic and she had the resources to do it properly.

"Most people think I'm paranoid," Elena said while examining a display of gas masks. "My family staged an intervention last week. They said I'm having a breakdown and need therapy not survival equipment."

"Are you having a breakdown?"

"Probably! But that doesn't mean I'm wrong about the cold." She picked up a gas mask rated for chemical and biological threats. "Something's coming. I can feel it in my bones. The temperatures are already dropping faster than normal. Scientists are calling it anomalous weather patterns but I think it's worse than they're admitting."

Ciro said nothing because she was right and he couldn't tell her how right without revealing too much.

They reached the checkout counter and Ciro had a cart loaded with fifteen thousand dollars worth of weapons and tactical equipment. Elena stood beside him with a similar haul and when the cashier rang up Ciro's total Elena pulled out a black credit card.

"Let me pay for yours," she said. "Consider it a thank you for being one of the few people who doesn't think I'm completely insane."

Ciro started to refuse but before he could speak a sharp voice cut through the air behind them.

 "Excuse me? What exactly do you think you're doing?"

 Ciro turned and saw Sarah standing ten feet away with her phone in her hand and fury written across her face. She must have been tracking his location through the phone he'd carelessly left unguarded or maybe she'd followed him from the apartment. Her eyes were wild and her voice came out shrill and accusatory.

"Stalking up to someone else's husband?" Sarah snapped at Elena and took three aggressive steps forward. "I saw you touching his arm. I saw the way you were looking at him. Who the hell do you think you are?"