As Sam came to stand beside him Dean asked, "Have any trouble?" He was only half asking about Sam's success in finding provisions.
"No, no trouble," was Sam's easy reply. So much had happened to them the last few years that Dean wasn't a hundred percent sure if Sam was lying or not. But his brother looked ok and had obviously bought a lot so he would trust his word, for now.
"Well, come dude, I'm starved and I think this may be the last time we have food that smells this good," Dean pointed out while opening the door for Sam, who had his hands full.
"Won't argue with you there," and Sam's stomach rumbled loudly.
Dean laughed. "I don't think I've heard your stomach growl that loudly since your growth spurt at 17."
"It took a lot of energy to be tall then you," Sam jibed over his shoulder.
The delicious smells were ten times more powerful inside then out and Dean was sure Sam could hear his stomach rumbling as well.
The inside of Clark's had well worn wood plank floors with a white wash finish and simple natural stained wood tables and chairs done in the craftsman style. The walls were wood paneling that matched the tables and with a few pictures of rural life. Dean guessed that most if not all were taken from around Eutaw. There were a number of people already eating, filling the tables and a line of customers 10 deep waiting to order. The brothers dutifully got in line and surveyed the menu above the checkout counter just as a boy of about 18 or 19 came towards them. He was average height at about 5'10" with warm brown skin, a wide smile and slanted eyes making Dean think he was a Pacific Islander rather than African American.
"Hi, welcome to Clark's. You fellas know what you want?" the teen asked, pen poised over a notepad.
"Yeah," Sam said first. "I'll have the sampler platter with beans, slaw, and potato salad."
Dean raised his eyebrows, surprised. That was a lot of food, or more specifically, a lot of meat for his salad loving brother. But he didn't comment as the kid looked toward him with an expectant look.
"Make that 2," Dean said and the boy nodded.
"And I hate to ask but, with the credit machines down, you've got cash right?" The boy asked, embarrassed.
"We're covered kid," Dean assured him and the teen smiled at him relieved.
"Great, well as you can see we're pretty busy, but I'll put your order in and hopefully it'll be ready by the time you get up to pay," and the kid turned to the next set of people who'd come in behind the Winchesters.
The bothers were only in line for about 10 minutes and had only moved up 2 spaces when loud voices started up from the direction of the register. There a thin man with unkempt clothes and a greasy truckers cap was leaning over the register pointing a finger in the face of a small, slim Asian woman working it.
"Look Cecily, I'm good for it," the hick growled.
"I'm sorry Randy but those are the rules," the woman said in a no nonsense voice. "We don't take checks and with the machines down it's cash only."
"Listen here ya little chink, no'un else has got power and since everything here is done with wood, you're the only place that's open. I ain't got nothing back home and I just want a god damn piece a chicken!"
Sam had already dropped his bags and started moving toward the front before Dean even realized what he was doing. He followed suit, backing his brother's play. He really didn't think they should get involved. And though the hillbilly was in her face and had thrown out the racial slur, she hadn't backed down and looked like she could handle it.
"Hey man," Sam said casually, coming up on the man's left while Dean silently took position on his right. "The lady's just trying to do her job."
"This ain't none of your business, pal," Randy said, swinging around to face Sam. Even though Dean was now at his back he could tell the hick hadn't expected the giant that was his brother. He took a step back and bumped into Dean. Spinning, Randy the redneck realized he was surrounded.
"We're making it our business," Dean said with a glare.
"Look, just apologize to the lady and we'll pay for your meal," Sam said in a placating voice.
"I don't need no charity," Randy spat then turned to the Asian woman. "You tell that husband of yours' this aint over. He thinks he's such a big man with his fancy new truck and all. That nigger's time is comin." Then he intentionally bumped his shoulder into Sam, hard, and stomped out.
"That was kind of you, but not necessary," the woman said. Cecily, Dean thought he heard her name was. "But Randy Crowe it just a loud hot head that probably had too many beers last night, drinking them before they got warm."
"That's no reason for him to a racist ass," Dean mumbled, not meaning to be over heard but was.
Cecily chuckled, "But he IS a racist ass."
"What about the threat he made," Sam asked.
"He'll probably go drink a few more beers back at his trailer and forget about it," she assured them.
They had no other argument and she seemed to know Randy Crowe well enough that they could only take her word for it. They nodded to her and made their way back in line receiving a few nods of support from an elderly couple and a man and woman who looked like they were travelers like Sam and Dean, as their sharp business suits looked much too expensive for a small rural town.
It was well past noon by the time the Winchesters reached the front of the line. Most of the customers at the tables had left and most of those before them in line had gotten their food to go. When they stepped up to the counter Cecily smiled and called out to the back, "Jim, it's them!"
She took the slip with their order and totaled it. As they handed over their money a large African American man came through the door that led to the back and the smokers. Dean could only assume this was Cecily's husband. He wasn't as tall as Dean, but he had a solidness to him that was in complete contrast to his short and slim wife. Then it dawned on Dean that the teen who was currently busing tables was not a Pacific Islander but their son.
"Jim Clark," the man said in a low rumble. His southern accent subtle. He extended his hand. "Just wanted to come out and meet the two gentlemen who would defend a lady's honor."
Dean heard a scoff and saw an eye roll from Jim's wife as first Sam then Dean shook his hand. She clearly didn't feel like she needed her honor defended.
"It was nothing," Sam said, speaking for them both. "We can't abide racism and stand around and do nothing."
Jim nodded and thanked them again and Cecily nodded and smiled as she handed over their food. They nodded back and sat down to eat.
The food was good and they made it through half of their meal before Sam closed his Styrofoam box on all of his baby back and spare ribs, half a chicken, and sausage. He'd eaten all of his potato salad, coleslaw, beans, pulled pork, brisket, and corn bread. Dean had done the same only he hadn't been able to resist the baby back ribs. They had mutually decided to save what could be saved over night without refrigeration, for tomorrow.
The place was still doing brisk business when the brothers left to make their way back to their hidden gear. The town was also still busy as people tried to go about their normal daily business with no electricity or cars. Dean had to shake his head and marvel at the blinders the average person could put up in order for them to feel safe. Even when disaster stood staring them in the face. He said as much to Sam as they left Eutaw behind and turned down a quiet country road.
"That's because most people don't want to do for themselves," Sam responded. "They want someone else to come and save them. Whether that's the government or their neighbor or anyone else so they don't have to take responsibility. Our society has become so interdependent and so global that even if there is a disaster somewhere and services are disrupted, other than paying a few more pennies at the supermarket or the gas pump, the shelves are still stocked with food and the gas still flows. The lights still turn on and the toilets still flush."
"And now all that has been taken away," Dean said into the silence after Sam finished. "Now over 300 million people have no one but themselves to rely on."
There wasn't much left to say after that so the Winchester walked in silence until they reached the wooded area they'd left their gear in. Relieved to see that they had hid it well and it had remained untouched.
It was late afternoon nearly evening by the time they organized everything and split it evenly between them. With the purchase of the hard frame hiking packs, they were able to fit all of the things they'd brought from the car and the new items Dean had purchased inside, with the exception of their bedrolls and new heavy wool blankets, which they tied to the bottom of the packs. They also kept their weapons out and within easy access. They would have to carry the crossbows and the machetes could be attached to their belts while knives could be secreted away in pockets. That just left the food.
Sam had bought only nonperishable's consisting of those that were in packets, not cans, needing only water. Such as Raman, instant soups and pastas. There were also what had to be every granola bar, energy bar, and breakfast bar in the store. All of which had already been removed from there container boxes and were left free floating, individually wrapped.
There were also nuts of every variety. Much to Dean disappointment, all unsalted and unflavored. He understood that the salted and flavored kind would dehydrate them too much, and the nuts themselves would be more nutritious then some of the sugary bars, but honey roasted almonds were his favorite. These were removed from there cans and jars and put in to re-sealable bags.
As they silently worked and sorted trying to figure some easy way to carry it all, Dean's eye alighted on a canister half covered by dried fruit. After removing the packages, Dean reverently lifted up the large canister. It was one of the largest and bulkiest things Sam had bought, but Dean didn't care. He would guard this with his life.
It was a large canister of instant coffee. Totally not healthy or required for survival, but it didn't matter. Coffee was coffee and if this change really was more than just an EMP, coffee would become a very rare thing indeed.
"Would you like to be alone?" Sam smirked from the other side of the pile.
"You'd better be nice to me," retorted Dean. "And I may let you have some."
"You go right ahead and keep it." Sam said as he reached behind him. "Because I've got my own," and held up his another canister.
"Always thinking ahead Sammy," he said as he put his coffee down next to his pack. He would tear the whole thing apart in an effort to make it fit. Then he remembered the gallon sized re-sealable bags. Perfect.
By the time twilight descended and the darkness made it hard to see, they were finished. Everything that could be stuffed into the hiking packs was or was somehow tied on. However most of the food would have to be carried by hand and had been packed as tightly as possible into their now empty duffels. Water was just too heavy to carry, but with the iodine and water purification tablets and some heavy duty filtration water bottles Dean had found, they would just try to be as careful as possible to cleanse any water they found before drinking it.
The only thing left that they needed to do was medical supplies. It had been agreed on the walk from the car into town, that they would pay a night time visit to the drug store to see what kind of medicine they could find that was heavier duty then over the counter pain pills, which Sam had already bought and a few other things to fill out there existing medical kit.
But they would need to wait till after midnight, when the town would be at its quietest before trying to brake in. As this was still many hours away, both brothers fell in to a brooding silence.
A while later, as Dean was trying to doze with his back against a tree and he is chin against his chest, when he heard Sam clear his throat.
Sam was also using the same tree trunk as a back braise. The small cough was Sam way of seeing if he was awake.
"What Sam?" he asked, not lifting his head.
"Ah, do you think…, I mean…, are you sure this is the right thing to do?" Was Sam's tentative reply.
Dean thought he knew what his sibling was referring too but decided to play dumb. He wasn't sure Sam would like his answer. Still not lifting his head he said, "You've never had any problem stealing meds before."
"No, I know, and I know we need them. I'm fine with that," Sam slightly stuttered out. "It's just, this whole thing man. I mean, we're walking. To Kansas. Or Oklahoma, or Nebraska. Hell why not just all the way to South Dakota and Bobby!"
He heard an edge of desperation in Sam's voice, but what could he really say? Did he want to go all the way to South Dakota and Bobby? Hell yes. Did he think they would make it? Hell no. He wasn't even sure they would make it to Kansas. He wasn't even sure they would make it out of Mississippi, the next state over. But the desperation he heard creeping into Sam's voice kept him from voicing his doubts. He just wasn't sure what would trigger one of Sam's delusional episodes, but he didn't think adding more stress to his shoulders would help.
So he said instead, "Yeah we'll make it. We have a head start on what's going on and as you said earlier, most people will have their heads buried so far up their asses that it will be too late before they do something."
The other side of the tree was quite for a beat then Sam asked, "And if we make it to Kansas, then what?"
"Find some farm that needs help?" Dean threw out.
"Are you asking me or telling me," Sam snapped.
"Both?"
"You do realize," Sam stated. "That most farms now a days are run by multimillion dollar corporations and grow only one thing. Hundreds of acres can be dedicated to just corn, wheat, or oats. Not exactly a well balanced diet."
"Well if you have any better suggestions I'm all ears," Dean snapped back at him. He didn't need reminding. They'd driven through the prairie states enough to know the full meaning of Endless Waves of Grain.
Silence again. Now Dean was awake and annoyed. He realized his brother wasn't running on all cylinders but did he expect Dean to think of everything? He honestly didn't know what he was doing half the time and now was so far out of his depth all he could do was solve one problem at a time.
"Dean?" Sam queried.
"What Sam," he said as an exhale.
"Do you, do you remember that spirit a couple of years ago? Some 19th century horse drawn soil plow. The original owner had been trampled by his team and attached himself to the plow. And the new owners already had one person in the hospital from being trampled and another who had a broken leg?"
At first Dean didn't know which hunt Sam had been referring too. There were actually quite a few angry farmers out there that had kicked the bucket while working the farm. Nonetheless, this one was memorable because it had happened on some prairie frontier reenactment farm.
"Right, I remember. The owner had a fit when we had to burn the plow and I think he was more mad about that then relieved we'd solved his ghost problem."
"Right that's the one. He was mad because it was a fully working farm that showed what life was like in the late 1800's and we'd just burned up his new, fully functioning farm equipment from that period."
"Whatever, he could have shown a little more gratitude," Dean mumbled. Then louder, "So why bring it up?"
"Because, it was a real farm, Dean. Not just for show for tourist. They were a working organic farm that sold at the local farmers markets and some of the local town restaurants. Also the guys wife was so relieved that she said to drop by if we were ever that way again."
"So you're gonna take her off handed comment as an open invitation?"
"You asked me for a better idea," Sam chided.
That he did, and it wasn't half bad. At least it was a destination. If he remembered correctly it was somewhere in the northern middle of Kansas.
"Well, alright. Guess we'll head there," Dean stated as he looked up to check the position of the moon. He figured it was around 9 pm. "We've got a couple more hours before we can go get the meds. So I suggest we get some more rest while we can."
Author's Note
My beta is MIA this week so, sorry if there were any glaring mistakes. I try to proof read it even before going to beta but I'm not the best when it comes to finding grammar mistakes.
Just wanted to thank my 6 followers and one reviewer! You guys rock! And anyone else who stops by, thanks for reading!