Fade to Grey (Book 1): Fade to Grey by Brian Stewart Page B

into groceries. He
had a battery powered megaphone in his hand, and was repeatedly broadcasting, “Please
remember folks that we are cash only . . . we cannot take credit cards or
checks, and there is a maximum total grocery purchase limit of twenty-five
dollars. Gasoline, diesel and kerosene purchases are limited to ten gallons per
vehicle . . . no exceptions.” He saw us enter his field of vision and an
expression of relief crossed into his face. We edged our way through the crowd
over to him.
    When we were a few feet away Uncle Andy chimed in, “Guess
we’re gonna have to change our lunch plans.”
    Walter nodded and said, “Damn straight, and if you even want
to have the opportunity for lunch, which will probably be served closer to
supper time, give me a hand.”
    “What the heck is going on?” asked Uncle Andy.
    “The report is that the Korean flu is spreading all over the
United States; infected people are going crazy and attacking other folk. I’ve
already heard about ninety-nine different stories of what’s going on,
everything from the president being evacuated to martial law in every major
city.”
    “Where are all these people coming from, or I guess a better
question would be where are they going?” Uncle Andy asked.
    Walter made another announcement about the price limitations
before he answered. “From what I can gather, most of them are coming up from
the big cities, trying to get someplace away from all the other people.”
    Just then a well dressed middle-aged couple intruded on our
conversation. The lady looked at her husband and then toward Walter before
saying, “Mister, my husband will write you a check for $5000.00 right now if
you just let us fill up the gas tank in our RV.”
    Walter shook his head and replied, “Ma’am, I wish I could. But
if I do that for you than I have to do it for everybody, whether they have
$5000.00 or not. And besides, the way I hear it, checks aren’t worth anything
right now, heck as far as I know cash ain’t worth nothing either. I truly am
sorry, but I have to be fair with everybody, and I intend to do that until I
run out of food and gas.”
    The husband gave the wife an “I told you so” look before
leading her away by the elbow.
    “It’s been like this since we opened this morning,” Walter
said with a deep sigh.
    “Tell us how we can help,” I said.
    “Andy, you can wander around inside here and help me keep
things moving and . . . um . . . you know, make sure that items don’t wander
away without being paid for. Eric, you could be a great help to me if you could
kind of make your presence known outside near the gas pumps. We’ve already had
at least three fights, and things are going to get a lot hairier when we run out
of gas in that tank, which at the rate they’re emptying it should be less than
an hour.”
    He turned around and used a key to open a locked glass
display case, remove a blister pack of Midland GMRS radios and a large pack of
AA batteries. As if by magic a small folding Buck knife appeared in his
calloused hands. A few short slices later the radios were freed and had
batteries installed. I looked down and noticed he had a similar radio on his
belt. He fiddled with the radios for a second after turning them on, verifying
that they were set to the same channel and security code as his.
    “Eric,” he said, “I always knew you were a standup guy.” Turning
to Uncle Andy he said, “And you, you belligerent old goat, for helping me out I
forgive half of the stuff that I know ya done to me over the years.”
    Uncle Andy got a mischievous look on his face and said, “Too
bad you only know about half the stuff I done to you.” I chuckled as I walked
outside.
    Walter wasn’t kidding, I was outside less than ten minutes
before a fight broke out. Just as I was getting them separated, Michelle pulled
up. The back left quarter panel of her Tahoe had a fairly impressive dent in it.
I looked at her and then toward the dent and then