Army Store

In the end, your fatalistic sense takes over. All the options are dangerous, and you feel that any of them has a more or less equal chance of getting you killed. You might as well go for the jackpot.

"First things first," you say to Amanda. "We're women. We look like women and we're dressed like women. That makes us targets."

Moments later, piles of your hair and hers lie strewn about the floor, with the exception of a single braid from each of you that Amanda insisted upon cutting off as a piece and tying tightly to keep. She hands hers to you and places your hair in her pack. "I just want each of us to have something of the other to hold onto," she says. "In case... this doesn't work."

"Amanda, we barely know each other," you tell her.

She smiles slightly. "I have the feeling that's going to change," she says.

The next thing to go is your clothes. Neither of you are dressed in overtly feminine garb, but your own clothes fit too well and show off your figure. Fortunately, there is an abundance of wardrobe in the apartment building to choose from. You can't help but glance at Amanda's nude body as she undresses, and for a moment you think that it's criminal to hide such a figure under the baggy and shapeless clothes that you find to wear.

An unexpected bonus that you come across as you search the apartment building are a pair of hunting knives with sheaths, and some aerosol cans of hairspray that could also serve as weapons. "Better than pepper spray," Amanda says with a grin as she attaches two of the cans to her belt. Apart from Amanda's stockpiles, the only other item of any use is a toy pistol that looks enough like the real thing that it might fool someone. You take posession of that.

"Go ahead and pack heavy," you suggest. "We can replace your things with whatever we find that's better, but for now we'd better take all we can."

In about an hour, you're ready. The sun sets behind the smoking buildings in the distance as you both look each other over to make sure packs are zipped, supplies are in place, and weapons are within easy reach.

Amanda seems a bit boyish with her ragged and close-cropped hair, her face free of cosmetics, and her figure hidden under a loose jacket. You imagine you present much the same image.

"Ready?" you ask her.

"Ready," she says with a brave smile.

Suddenly, she leans forward and kisses you softly on the lips. You're too startled to pull away before she does, her cheeks flushed red.

"For luck," she says simply.

You wait until the sky is dark red with the last glimmer of sunlight before venturing out into the street. Keeping to the shadows, you both make your way quickly in the direction of the Army store, watching carefully for any sign of movement in the alleyways. Amanda's presence is comforting - you're not sure you could have done this alone.

The two of you meet with surprisingly little resistance as you approach your destination. It's only a matter of minutes before you reach the corner of Fifth and Main, around which the surplus store stands. Or stood - it occurs to you that it may have been ransacked and destroyed already.

"Mirror," you whisper to Amanda.

She passes you a compact mirror which you have affixed to the end of a long stick. Carefully, you edge the mirror around the corner...