The air inside the store still smelled faintly of instant noodles and cleaning products, though it was starting to lose the cool edge from earlier in the day. Most of the SUV still sat inside, its heavy nose lodged between toppled shelves and the splintered checkout counter, only the rear half sticking out into the parking lot. The creature Eli had killed earlier lay slumped by the entrance. Neither of them had bothered to move it.
They had been at it for a while now — moving supplies from the aisles, over the creature's corpse, and into the organized cardboard boxes in the SUV's back. The cooler was wedged against the left wall of the cargo space, holding the ice, three packs of sausages, one box of nuggets, and a small bag of frozen vegetables. Everything else was sorted — cans stacked tight, protein bars grouped in neat rows, hygiene items bundled together with duct tape.
Eli slid the last two bottles of Coke into a gap beside a box of canned tuna, then reached for the cooler lid to check the ice.
Paolo glanced over. "Didn't we already have a couple bottles of Coke in there?"
Eli didn't look up. "Yeah."
"You just grabbed a few more."
Eli shrugged, shutting the cooler with a dull thud.
Paolo smirked, shaking his head. "Not judging, but it's interesting where your priorities land when the world's ending."
Eli ignored him and reached for a bundle of wet wipes, tucking it into the hygiene box. "You see anything we missed?"
Paolo did a quick scan of the boxes. "Looks like we hit every aisle we could."
"Not everything," Eli said, pausing mid-step. "Fire materials."
"What?"
"We didn't grab anything to start a fire. Paper, cardboard, cooking oil… that kind of thing."
Paolo scratched the side of his head. "Guess I didn't think about that. You wanna—?"
"Yeah. Quick."
They climbed back over the debris and into the store, weaving past knocked-over displays and half-broken glass doors. Eli grabbed stacks of flattened cardboard from behind the counter, an armful of promotional leaflets, and a bottle of cooking oil from an aisle near the back. Paolo scavenged a plastic tub of disposable cups and napkins, plus some wooden stir sticks from the coffee corner.
When they returned, they shoved the new pile into an empty box and slid it in beside the others. Eli leaned against the rear bumper for a moment, scanning the SUV's cargo.
"Looks good," Paolo said, hands on his hips. "If this place had been any bigger, we'd be set for weeks."
"Maybe."
"Not that I'm complaining," Paolo continued, "but you're starting to look like me. You know… hoarding tendencies."
Eli glanced at him but didn't take the bait. He just shut the hatch with a push.
Paolo grinned. "That's a yes, by the way."
Eli walked toward the driver's side without answering. Paolo was still chuckling when it happened — a sharp clatter from somewhere near the highway, followed by urgent shouting. The sound cut through the air, close enough that the words almost carried. Both of them froze.
"You hear that?" Paolo asked, his voice tightening.
Eli's eyes narrowed toward the source of the noise. "Get in."
They climbed into the SUV. Eli started the engine, the low rumble filling the enclosed space. He reversed slowly, the tires crunching over broken glass as the vehicle rolled backward out of the store, over the threshold, and into the sunlight.
The street beyond the parking lot looked worse than when they'd arrived — not destroyed, but frayed around the edges. A couple of cars sat at odd angles against the curb, their doors hanging open. Further down, past the convenience store's driveway, the highway entrance came into view.
That's where they saw them.
A group of six or seven people stood in the middle of the road. All armed — some with shovels, some with batons, one holding what looked like a crowbar. Two bodies lay at their feet — one human, one creature, the latter's limbs splayed at unnatural angles.
As the SUV approached, the group shifted to block the road, spreading out like they had no intention of letting anyone pass. One man shouted something sharp and aggressive.
Paolo gripped the door handle. "Eli…"
Eli didn't answer. His gaze flicked from the group to the gaps between them, weighing options.
The shouting got louder, more hostile. Someone waved a shovel in the air. Another jabbed a finger toward the SUV.
Eli suddenly slammed his palm against the horn. The sound blasted through the air, so loud it seemed to vibrate in their chests.
The group flinched, looking around in alarm. Someone yelled, "You'll bring more of them!" and another cursed under their breath.
Eli kept his foot steady, then pressed harder on the accelerator. The SUV surged forward, the heavy engine growling. The people on the road scrambled back, leaping aside as the vehicle barreled through the space they'd been blocking seconds earlier.
When the road opened ahead, Eli eased off the gas just enough to regain a smoother pace. Paolo let out a long breath, leaning back into his seat.
"I thought we were dead back there," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Where are we even heading now?"
"Clinic," Eli said without hesitation. "Three blocks away."
Paolo frowned. "How do you know about a clinic around here?"
"Community medical mission," Eli replied, eyes still on the road. "A couple years back."
Paolo tilted his head. "You were part of it?"
"Yeah."
The SUV rolled past another intersection, the sidewalks littered with scattered trash and abandoned bags. A pair of crows perched on a streetlight, watching them pass.
"Hey Paolo, could you get my bag and charge my phone?"
Paolo reached towards the back to get the bag and rummaged through until he found them. "Still can't get used to the size of this," he said, holding up the oversized powerbank. "I'd say this could power a whole barangay."
Eli smirked faintly but didn't answer, plugging his phone in.
He glanced at the screen — 4:00 PM. "We'll need to find somewhere safe for the night," he said.
Paolo adjusted his seatbelt, eyes flicking to the passing buildings. "Clinic first, then we figure it out?"
"Yeah."
The SUV kept moving, the sound of its engine the only steady thing in a city that felt like it could come apart at any moment.