Deserted - Auctioned
Gray snickered. “Do you even get the paper out here?”
“No. I pick up my mail in town. But you’ll be proud to know that I read on a tablet. Which reminds me—I gotta charge it.” Darius closed the door again and turned to the wall—okay, maybe it wasn’t a wall…? There was a latch hidden behind a framed illustration of rope knots. “So, this one of my pantries.”
As in, there was more than one pantry? “Oh my God.” As the door opened farther, shelves upon shelves with food were revealed. The pantry wasn’t necessarily big; only one person could stand in there, but it was seriously packed. Floor-to-ceiling with jars, boxes, crates, and bags. There were two entire rows of nothing but flour. One shelf with sugar, honey, and maple syrup. Countless boxes of baking soda and packets of dry yeast.
Gray didn’t know what to say, and he couldn’t stop staring. Crushed tomatoes, canned fruit, canned fucking everything. Peeled potatoes in glass jars, coffee, seeds, pickles, pasta, rice, preserves, powdered milk…
He remembered watching a TV show about this with Gabriel and Gideon. “You’re one of them,” he heard himself say. “One of those doomsday preppers.”
Darius straightened. “I’m a homesteader,” he corrected. “Nothing wrong with being prepared, though.”
“For the zombie apocalypse?”
Darius rolled his eyes and left the storage area.
Gray was quick to follow. “We gotta talk about this! I’m highly fascinated!”
Ignoring the humor, Darius spun on Gray and towered over him in a heartbeat. “Okay, let’s talk. Say you share a one-bedroom apartment in the Valley with a friend, and a storm rolls in. All the stores close, and the power goes out. In your fridge, you have some leftovers and condiments. Would you last a week? What if there’s an epidemic and you gotta self-quarantine? Would you last a month? And what if you lose your job in the middle of a recession? How long can you keep your apartment?” He paused. “What if something happens, and you have Jayden with you? Can you take care of him through a crisis?”
That wiped the last shred of mirth from Gray’s face, and he felt like he’d been pushed too hard. That Darius had gone too far. The bastard was probably right on every point he was trying to make, but way to be an asshole about it.
Gray averted his gaze and ducked out of the close proximity. His throat felt thick, so he tried to clear it on the way back to the kitchen. Though, he had no idea what he would do there.
“Gray, I’m sorry. It’s a sore topic.”
“No, it’s fine.” Gray went for dismissive. “I know I’m not enough for him yet.”
Darius cursed and stalked into the kitchen. “That’s not what I meant, and I think you know that deep down. My issue with today’s society comes from years of seeing how the other half lives. Traveling through countries where basic amenities and clean water are luxuries—and seeing how fragile our own system is. It has nothing to do with you personally…” He closed his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “At the same time as it has everything to do with you.”
Gray stayed on the other side of the kitchen island and folded his arms over his chest. “What?”
Darius let his hand fall, and he sighed. “When we get too comfortable, we forget how to defend ourselves,” he said. “That’s what I see happening. We’ve gotten so used to having everything handed to us with a snap of our fingers—or a swipe on a screen. And that’s terrifying to me, because we can lose it all in a second. Whether it’s on a small scale and a family member loses their job, or it’s on a global scale and we fall into an economic depression, life can change so fast. And then what?”
Gray nodded slowly and looked down. He’d grown up pretty poor, but Mom had worked her ass off to make sure no one missed anything important. She’d been creative and resourceful so Gray and his brothers never had to. She’d been deserted twice, first by the man she’d had Gage and Gray with, then by the man she’d had Gabriel and Gideon with. Oh, he sent money sometimes… His guilt had paid for private school and hockey gear.
Gray realized what Darius was doing right then and there. “You’re preparing to take care of your family, should anything happen that they can’t get through on their own.”
“It’s a coping mechanism,” Darius answered. “Maybe not the healthiest one, but it’s how I get by. History shapes us, and I have too much of it. I’ve seen too much of it. Wars, financial collapse, corruption, virus outbreaks, natural disasters…”
And who could forget the general sales pitch of recruiters at every private military contractor agency? We go where no one else will.