Chapter 4. Marty. Day 33.

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I moved the door handle, not expecting it to budge. I slammed my shoulder into the door, hoping it to burst open. "Is that how it's done?" Randall asked.

I turned back to him, glaring in his direction. "Do better." I stepped out of his way. He shrugged, looking down the street. His foot swung back, kicking the dog door open. He dropped down to his knees, pushing something from the wall, and squeezing through the small opening. The door clicked unlocked, revealing a smiling Randall.

"Yeah, your lady shoulders really impress me." I pushed him aside, walking further into the well kept house. A small hallway led to the kitchen, covered in a small layer of dust. I moved slowly through the house, holding the large Chef knife close to my chest. I turned into the re-done kitchen. I moved the knife down, pulling the cupboards open. Randall pulled the drawers open, pulling out all the knifes he could find. I grabbed a bowl, placing it in the sink, turning the faucet handles. Nothing came out.

I squatted to look under the sink, pulling out a large bottle of bleach. "What was on the list Winona gave us?" I placed the bottle beside me looking through the various chemicals.

"Bleach, trash bags, soap, food, water, laundry detergent, medicine, lighters, weapons, candles, shampoo, toothpaste, towels." He recited.

I nodded, pushing the bleach towards him. He grabbed it setting it on the counter beside the knifes. I pulled out a flashlight, and some various soaps, pushing them over. He continued pulling cabinets open. "Dude." He tossed a light box of Scooby Snacks in the air, showing them off.

"Get two out and we'll say we found the box open." I grabbed a few cans setting them on the counter.

He did as I instructed opening the box of snacks I had long assumed to be discontinued. He pulled out two packs of the cinnamon flavored snacks, pushing one towards me. I moved to sit on the counter, letting my legs dangle below me.

We both remained quiet, chewing the Scooby Snacks. "There isn't a lot of food here." He stated, crumbling up the bag in his hands.

"I bet my brother found something." I grabbed the box, setting it with the pile of stuff. I walked through the quiet house, pushing open doors. I rushed into one grabbing toothpaste off the counter. Randall sat on the toilet, pulling the roll off the wall. He leaned over reaching into the shower, grabbing two large bottles of shampoo.

I looped back into the kitchen, dropping the new supplies off. I lead us to the flight of stairs, slowly climbing up. I pushed open a door, finding a bedroom. We rummaged through drawers, pulling out a few batteries and a candle. "Check the remotes for batteries too. And grab the box of tissues."

"Man, we can't carry all this back." Randall pointed out as he grabbed the box. I popped a few batteries out of the remote, watching one roll off the bed onto the floor. I bent down, reaching under the bed. My fingers wrapped around cold metal. I pulled a long shot gun out from the darkness under the bed. I stood up, forgetting about the battery.

"Okay, but like, forget about that." I set the gun on the bed.

Randall grabbed it, doing something to it so it folded. He continued looking it over. "It's good, has two rounds in it. Probably more in the closet or a lock box."

I walked over to the closet, pulling the doors open. Nice business suits were hung up, hovering over nice dress shoes. I pushed myself onto my toes, reaching my a-rm over my head for a few boxes tucked away at the top of the closet.

I struggled, brushing my fingertips against the cardboard just enough to send it crashing down. I caught the heavy box, bringing it over to the bed. I pulled the box open, seeing a few hundred rounds of various ammunition.

"I think we have enough stuff. It's gonna be a pain to carry all this across the street." Randall's hand touched my back, as he walked out of the room, holding the gun. I grabbed all the batteries and the candle, tossing them into the heavy box. I carried it down the stairs.

"Find like a laundry basket to carry all this stuff in." I shouted to Randall. He abandoned me on my quest to the kitchen, arriving with a plastic basket. Everything barely fit inside, the various supplies creating a heavy problem.

I lifted it, following Randall out into the world. Everything was quiet. I hurried across the street, listening as Randall pushed the door open. I set the heavy basket down, creating a thud on the floor. My mom exited the kitchen, looking at Randall and I.

"Is that a gun?" She asked, looking at his arms. He nodded setting it down on the couch. 

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