The Virus Within: Third Wave (Book 2)

Chapter 84

Raising an eyebrow, I appraised the pile Jess had made by the door. "Are you sure this is everything?"

"Well, no," Jess said sheepishly, "but that's all I think we can fit in the truck."

I pursed my lips. "How much more were you hoping to get?" There had to be ratchet straps and storage bins around here somewhere.

"Some of the stacking organizers, two-step stools, garden shears, and a bunch of other stuff I need."

I knew my sister, and I could tell she was leaving something notable out of her list. "And?"

"Um, honestly? Those metal shelves would be perfect if I put them against the walls in the lab." She gestured to the metal shelving that was part of the store's own display.

I walked over to the long steel shelves and examined them. The powder-coated displays were solid, sturdy, and not about to come apart without a fight. If we angled one against the top of the cab and across the tailgate, we'd be able to get it back. I'd be sitting on top of it, but it was possible.

"Just one?"

"I'd love all six, but they wouldn't fit even if I left everything else behind." Her shoulders sagged as she looked longingly at the dusty shelves she wanted so badly.

I gazed at her for a long moment and finally said. "Grab everything else you were after, then clean off those shelves, but put the stuff where other people can find it."

"Really?" she asked, her face lighting up. Her expression faltered. "But, how will we get them back?"

"You do your part, and I'll be back before too long."

"Come on!" Nicky said excitedly, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the shelving. "I'll help!"

I was almost worried about what kind of chaos I'd be coming back to, but I went outside and looked around. It was a good thing we brought the truck, because I was going to need a trailer for this.

Nicky had left the keys in the truck, so for the first time ever, I hopped in the driver's seat, which smelled strongly of the Terror who usually sat here. I rolled the window down the rest of the way so his scent didn't seem to surround me. I drove down the back alleys in the residential areas, scanning backyards and parking areas.

If I'd been thinking, I grumbled internally, I would have grabbed a couple of different-sized hitches from the store so I could attach the trailer to the truck. If there were any left. I hope the proper hitch is near whatever trailer I find.

Before I became overly impatient, I found a trailer that would work. It was a utility trailer with low sides and no top, but it was long enough to hold all those shelves with some room to spare in the front. I stopped the truck and went to investigate the yellow clamp on the end of the trailer, which, as I had expected, was some sort of theft prevention lock.

This sort of metal was too strong for me to break or bend, so I headed for the garage. The door had already been forced open, likely by people searching for fuel, so I just walked in. I dug through the half-empty shelves and found a hitch, along with a bunch of ratchet straps and other trailer accessories.

To my annoyance, the owners hadn't conveniently left the key to the lock here. But they had several other interesting tools hanging above the workbench. Like a hacksaw and the forever reliable crowbar.

I grabbed all those items and went back outside. With a bit of determination, the hacksaw worked its way through the thick steel band on top, and the crowbar convinced it to throw in the towel. After it was off, I went to see what the chain at the back was attached to.