The building look abandoned enough. Just like everything else, though Eric. Mike lowered is binoculars. "Looks okay, but we want to scout it out more," he said looking at the building, which was off the side of I-40. "What do we do if someone is in there?" Asked Taylor, looking up at her dad.
"The same thing we always do," said a calm, deep voice, "we wait to see if they'll shoot first. When they don't we'll trade with them." The owner of the voice was named George, a loner who lost barely anything three years before. He was calm and he seemed to actually enjoy the world being the way it was. The building was in a college town somewhere in the mountains of North Carolina. "It won't hurt to look," said Eric while pulling his fingerless gloves tighter. The wind began to blow; it was as cold as ice. It had been that way for three years. No one knew what had happened; only that the sky lit up one day and that was that. Mike looked at the building one more time, he thought over it then decided they would go.
At the front of the building a sign read, "John's pharmacy."
"Has to be something in here," George said, he kicked the locked doors open. Inside the building shelves were thrown about, the only thing that was left was make-up and things like that. They looked around the room and saw the usual dried-up decrepit bodies; George crouched over one and searched it for anything useful. Everyone split up to look for supplies, Eric went to the back. In the back there were still some pills and syringes, Eric began shuffling through those. George came and looked with him. There was a door in the back of the room, Eric kicked it and kicked it, but it wouldn't budge. George came over and laughed. "You're doing it wrong," he laughed, "kick it under the door knob." He did just that, Eric noticed, the door came right open. A sudden rush of fear went through bother Eric and George at what was in their face. "Mike, Taylor, you might want to come over here!" George yelled nervously. There was a flash of light and a clap of thunder, George collapsed where he stood.
Mike and Taylor sprinted to them as fast as they could, what they saw they almost couldn't comprehend. Eric sat on the floor against a shelf; George lay on the floor in a pool of red. Mike raised his rifle. "What the hell is going on here?" That seemed to startle the person in the room, they jumped around the corner and aimed a pistol right at Mikes head. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" asked the person, they were wearing a gas mask. "Were scavengers," said Mike, "we're looking for supplies to trade. Who are you?"
"I'm part of the Ashville guard," the person said, the gun was still pointed at Mikes head.
"We've been looking for a camp," said Mike, "We have supplies to trade." The man looked at Mike for a while longer then lowered his gun.
"I can take you," he finally said.
Eric felt that it was safe enough to move, he crawled over to George; he was still alive, but unconscious. "What about him Eric asked, pulling his hand out of Georges blood; it was warm and sticky.
"I'll get him," said the man, he picked up George and walked out the door.