Monday, 24 August 2009 - 5:30 pm

Nuts

We had more luck with the warehouses today. Our search for something edible turned up nuts. Boxes and boxes of foil packs of nuts. Peanuts, cashew nuts, brazil nuts, hazelnuts, walnuts.

What is it about Christmas and nuts? They have shiny red and green packets, desperate to remind us of that time of year. Poor things have been sitting here since then, waiting for someone to come along and celebrate with them. Well, we obliged, so happy to find a fresh source of food – and one meant for human consumption – that there was even some dancing.

We rushed back to the vehicles with them. Matt couldn’t wait to ask the two convoy guards if they wanted to eat some nuts, which made Dale laugh and Thorpe look unimpressed. After we had crammed as many boxes as possible into the campervan, we had ourselves a little feast.

Terry was the first one to make himself sick. We all laughed when he rushed off to throw up, but it’s hardly surprising. Too many nuts aren’t good for you; my stomach isn’t entirely happy, and I didn’t stuff myself as much as some of the others.

 

We think that someone stashed them. They were on the upper floor of a stockroom, tucked away at the back behind a row of action figure boxes. If we hadn’t been desperately checking everything we could, we would have missed them. And I think Terry and Tia were messing around with the action figures.

It all led to a tense debate. As Dan pointed out, if someone stashed them, then they meant to come back. They’re organised and mobile. They sought to hide them from other survivors, which means they’re protecting themselves. Understandable, but it means they probably won’t be friendly if we come across them, even if they never find out that we stole their nuts.

There’s no way to know when this group came through here or if they might still be alive. We’re fairly sure that the Pride never made it this far south – they were spreading eastwards before they were overtaken by the Sickness – so it probably wasn’t them. We could be worrying over nothing, over people long dead or twisted into shamblers. Or they could be on their way back here right now to pick up their stashed food.

If there’s one stash, there’s bound to be another. We don’t dare turn away from that possibility. We need more than nuts to live on – despite them being packed with all kinds of good things for the body – and we haven’t found the supermarket depot yet. There’s too much to do here to let ghosts chase us away.

Nevertheless, we have another reason to guard the vehicles now. And to stick closer together.

Gotta go – time for dinner. Nuts, with a side order of dog biscuits. Who said the end of the world couldn’t be tasty?

That might have been me.

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