WHO: Bea & Jude WHAT: Looting in Ossining WHERE: Sing Sing & Ossining WHEN: August 31, 2019; evening RATING: Medium
There weren’t many things that Bea needed in life now. Minimalism had become a necessity where it never had been before, and she didn’t mind all that much. She was struck occasionally by the comparing how little she owned now to how much she had owned just a handful of years ago; it seemed so exorbitant and indulgent now, all her belongings that she had left behind in her little one bedroom apartment in Midtown. It was so important then, like a sign of status, and now it just seemed stupid and she didn’t miss it.
What she did miss was the ease of shopping that she’d had before the infection. The ability to walk into a shoe store and find a pair of size eights without much hassle had been something she took for granted. It was ridiculous to miss, she knew that and she hated it, but after months of wearing a pair of boots that were a half size too large she thought she was entitled to some ridiculous longing. After all, no one was perfect in the apocalypse.
Not even the trip to Bedford had been able to repair her shoe problem. She was starting to think that finding a pair of size 8 boots that weren’t ugly as all hell was an impossibility, and she was sick of it.
But, with the freedom of no longer being on lockdown she figured a run out to Ossining wouldn’t hurt. Though the idea of going on her own set her nerves on edge a little, she reminded herself that she was only headed in for a pair of boots and maybe some necessities if she felt up to it, so it felt like overkill to ask someone else along. She was capable of not getting eaten without having back up. Or she thought she was.
However, she had let one of the security people know where she was headed, just as a precaution. If she got herself in a pinch she wanted someone back at Sing Sing to know she wasn’t there. And maybe if she didn’t show up after a couple hours, if things went poorly they’d send someone after her.
With a duffel slung over her shoulder, she double-checked her knife was still tucked into her boot, and ignored the way her muscles protested the movement; the aftermath of that mornings yoga class. She didn’t need to check for her handgun, the cool metal was a familiar presence against the small of her back. With one last once over of everything else she had with her she headed out.