Luna was dangling cans of tuna from fishing line on rat traps when Eli's cross pierced the warehouse air window.
"Emmanuel." The voice outside the glass sounded like sandpaper polishing a rusty coin, "I'll trade this for food."
The palm of an outstretched hand held two slabs of moldy amoxicillin, crumbs of suspected brain tissue embedded in the crevices of its fingernails.The blood stains on the man's white coat looked like melted strawberry sundaes in the lenses of Luna's night vision.
"I need canned yellow peaches." The knot in Eli's throat trembled, "There's a pregnant woman... Torn birth canal..."
Luna aimed the laser pointer at the wedding ring on his index finger. She'd seen the ring on the gas station corpse three days ago, and now half a piece of skin with fingerprints still clung to the inside of the band.
"Rule number three." She tapped her homemade megaphone, the altered mechanical voice echoing through the warehouse, "Medical supplies for canned green beans, ratio 1:5."
The man suddenly grabbed the barbed wire, "Her uterus is rotting outside her body! At least give some honey..."
The crickets nibbled at the crushed instant noodles in silence.Luna remembered the $199 jar of Manuka honey on the third shelf of the freezer, with the former store manager's "Gift for a whore" written in marker on the label.
"Or..." Eli's forehead rested against the fence, "Let me touch the hands of the saints."
His pupils spread into black holes in the infrared lens.Luna looked down at her iodine-soaked hand-which was still stained with the nosebleed of the man who'd tried to steal the can last night.
The deal was struck at 3:17 a.m.
As Eli's fingertips ran across her palm through the plastic glove, Luna heard some kind of liquid drip. It wasn't the warehouse leaking, it was the doctor crying. He huddled in the corner with a can of yellow peaches and prayed, the contents causing Luna in front of the monitor to spill her hot cocoa:
"Thank the Lord for my lies, that pregnant woman died yesterday, but her uterus..." Eli's swallowing is clearly audible, "... It was really good."
Chapter 4: The Magic of Expired Rainbow Candy
Maya's pink barrette glowing Tiffany blue seemed so absurd on the 14th day of the end.
"Hello you you you you you you." The young girl's stutter was more deliberate than the torn holes in the hem of her skirt, "I I I I I can dance..."
Luna's shotgun barrel protruded from the cargo port and poked at the knockoff of the other girl's GUCCI fanny pack. Three days ago the bag had been in a convenience store body pile, and now the bulging silhouette inside made her narrow her eyes.
"Rule twenty." She lied, "Performing arts for twenty grams of candy, double for stripping."
Maya suddenly lifted the hem of her skirt.
Not her thighs, but her Y-shaped stitches from pubic bone to rib cage. Rotting flesh and fluorescent green ointment mingled at the scars like gothic Christmas ribbons. "The mayor's husband's hideout," her teeth chattered, "change... Change all the rainbow candy."
The exhaust fan at the top of the warehouse chirped sadly.Lune remembered the mayor who always smiled on TV, who'd bought condoms at QuickStop when he was campaigning, and whistled at the lace trim under her shirt when he scanned the code.
"Liars get their toes nibbled off by voles." Luna activates a homemade lie detector-actually a toast machine with electrodes attached.
Maya's screams culminate as the toast pops up. The truth fills the air with the smell of burning: the mayor dunked concrete in the shelter to bury three hundred homeless people alive, including her brother with Down syndrome.
"Add this." The young woman pulled the blonde hair from her scalp, the roots still clinging to the follicle-bearing blood clots.
As Luna picked up the strand of hair with tweezers, Maya suddenly lunged and bit her wrist. The bulletproof glass reflected the distorted reflections of the two, like two hyenas fighting over carrion.
"You know what?" The teenager licked her bloodstained lips, "He said the exact same thing you just did when he spanked me with a golf club in the basement..."
Rainbow candy looked like voodoo bone grains in the moonlight.Luna watched Maya bounce and disappear into the rubble and turned to examine the exchanged map with a magnifying glass.The X marked the bottom of the wastewater treatment plant, next to it was a line of small print:
"First batch of canned goods here."
There is a sudden loud crash of cans collapsing from deep within the warehouse.
Luna approaches the source of the sound, gripping her lead-filled baseball bat, and the flashlight illuminates the baked beans in aubergine sauce that are stealing... A dog? No, a mutant Chihuahua with fangs, its irradiated eyes reflecting the light of a supermarket promotional poster-
"Second item half price."