The Borrowed World: A Novel of Post-Apocalyptic Collapse Read Online Free PDF Page B

anyway.”
    “I wish I was one of them,” Ariel muttered.
    Ellen parked the Suburban and they headed toward the entrance, Ellen reminding the kids of why they were there so early.
    “The problem, Ariel, is that most stores don't carry more than three days’ worth of inventory now.  They have trucks coming in all the time.  Those trucks can be delayed by power outages, fuel shortages, or damaged roads, and then the shelves will be empty.  What will people do for food then?”
    “I guess they eat those old cans of beets and lima beans from the back of their cabinets,” Pete said with a grin.
    “Bluuck,” Ariel said.
    “I agree,” said Ellen.  “Bluck.”
    As Jim's binder instructed them, each of them took a cart, although Ellen was not sure Ariel could manage one if it was very full.  She made a mental note to give her paper products and lighter items.
    Ariel looked at the list as Ellen read over it, trying to get a picture in her head of how to go about this.
    “What are we going to do with all this junk if this isn't the end of the world, Mom?” she asked.
    “It's all stuff we'll use eventually,” Ellen said.  “Just think of it as shopping in advance.”
    “I want some bananas,” Pete said.
    “Sorry, Bud, we're focusing on items that last a long time today,” she said.  Then thinking better of it told him, “Go ahead.  If things get hard we might not see any bananas for a while.”
    “Why? Where do they come from?” Ariel asked.
    “South America,” Ellen said.  “That will be a long way to go for a banana if you have to walk.”
    After Pete added his bananas, Ellen went to a display of packaged nuts, trail mixes, and dehydrated fruit slices.  She threw an assortment in the cart, then skipped frozen foods and picked up a few loaves of bread, some of which she would freeze when they got home.  She got a half-dozen of the largest jars of peanut butter they had, several large jars of jelly, fifteen pounds of coffee, and several boxes of tea.
    “I love peanut butter,” Ariel said.
    “We all love peanut butter,” Pete chimed in.  “I hope that's enough.”
    “I hope it is, too,” Ellen said.  “But if it’s not, there’s powdered peanut butter in the basement pantry.”
    “Sounds nasty,” Ariel said.  “You guys can have it.”
    “You might be singing a different tune if we go through all this,” Pete warned.
    They continued through the aisles, filling the carts with twenty pounds of rice, twenty pounds of beans, two dozen different kinds of noodles, dried soup mixes, ramen, flour, sugar, salt and other spices, pancake mix, syrup, ketchup, tomato sauces, tuna,  and dozens of other items.  They bought several canned hams that had a ten-year shelf-life.  They filled Ariel's cart with toilet paper, paper towels, aluminum foil, paper plates, plastic ware, garbage bags, and baggies.
    “I thought Dad already had all this stuff,” Ariel said in complaint as she pushed her cart through the store.  “Why do we have to buy more?”
    “He does, honey,” Ellen replied, “but he's concerned we'll need more and he wants us to be safe and well-taken care of.  He doesn't want us to run out.”
    “Where are we going now?” Pete asked, fighting to push his cart due to a bad wheel that rattled as they walked through the store.
    “Camping section,” Ellen said.
    Once there, they collected green propane cylinders, five gallon cans of Coleman fuel, isobutane canisters for Jim's backpacking stove, and extra mantles for the propane lanterns.  They picked up ten boxes of kitchen matches, several dozen cheap butane lighters, and two-dozen slow burning candles.  Their carts were full by now and they were all struggling to push them.
    “Are we done yet?” Ariel asked, groaning.
    “There's more on the list,” Ellen said.  “I think we'll go put all this in the car and then I'll come back and get the last items.  Shouldn't be more than a single cart full.”
    “Good,” Ariel