The place wasn't half bad. It was cold at times during the night, but that wasn't something Charlie felt would end the world for her. Dog was more than happy to sleep close, to fight the chill as the last of the fall season days began to fade into early winter. She slept better than she ever had alone in her room, and after all that had gone down back at the resort before they slipped off in the chaos, waking up with Dog occasionally running a hand along her side and hips was nothing in comparison. At least his company was welcomed.
Still, it was hard not to be cautious that he wouldn't try to push things further. She wasn't an idiot... she could tell by the way he looked at her, how he watched her undress from the corner of his eye, or how, while they rested, he slipped a hand beneath the fabric of anything she bothered wearing to caress her flat stomach or thighs.
It caused a swell of conflicting emotions she never imagined she'd have to deal with. A large part of her wanted to cuss him out and reinforce her demand for boundaries and personal space, but... another part of her felt guilty comfort in it.
Her conscious mind reasoned against her fears that Dog didn't exactly have the opportunity to learn basic societal behavior, like manners, boundaries, or how to treat a woman. So how would he know what was appropriate and what wasn't? Surely he didn't pick up anything but bad tendencies and habits from the group of people he traveled with. All he had to go by was her reaction to the impulsive things he did, and if she was angry, he withdrew... but... for how long would her temporary wrath be enough to dissuade him from crossing the line? She wanted to trust him, she truly did...
She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind for now. There wasn't any use fretting over it now... instead, she focused on her "mission", feeling the slightest pang of self-consciousness over her place in the world. The men of Dog's group were ready, able-bodied road warriors. How they operated made that apparent many times over now—hell, even Dog had a unique skill set honed by the harshness of daily life at the end of the world. It left Charlie feeling inadequate, and hopeful to prove herself. She didn't want to be a burden to him.
In the main building of the self-storage facility, the units housed indoors all seemed to have their treasures, with every one she could get into more interesting than the last. At Dog's suggestion, she spent the first few days at the storage facility, with her flashlight in hand, rooting through the small indoor units dotting the hallway, hoping to find things that might make a long trip easier. She picked through them slowly, not questioning Dog's whereabouts when he wasn't doing the same thing with her. He was more than capable of taking care of himself, alone. Their first real day at their temporary camp, he was gone for nearly the entire day.
Charlie waited anxiously inside the storage unit filled with hotel furniture as he retrieved the battery from the broken-down Ford and pushed the thing off of the main road as best he could, to hopefully throw off his group if they came looking. He returned well after sundown, half soaked and exhausted once again.
Charlie had been wise enough to collect rainwater, despite Dog telling her to stay inside out of view of anyone, and the bucket's-worth served as both refreshment and a crude opportunity to wash away some of the muck and grime from their tasks for the day.
The next few days, however, he returned far more frequently. Only a few hours would pass before he'd turn up, and they would take a break from scavenging supplies to eat, play a card game, or practice handling the handgun. When he left her, she could hear him out in the facility lot breaking into the outer storage units while she took the simpler task of checking those inside. He'd retrieved a crowbar when he went for the truck battery which proved efficient against the basic key pattern locks on the doors, and was less wasteful than just shooting the mechanism off.
Charlie discovered a unit filled with nothing but cardboard boxes, a disappointing first. The next she was fortunate enough to discover what appeared to be an entire house of arranged furniture and upon further inspection, she found herself ever so amused to discover it had been the staging materials for a real estate firm when showing new listings, complete with comforters and arranged beds. It looked like someone lived here!
She shook her head, bemused at how people had been so obsessed with the most time-consuming bullshit back in the day. All the same, she was quick to claim that as their new base of operations, particularly for the small window placed along the ceiling that let in a bit of natural light. It seemed the last unit of every row had one. It didn't open, but it was better than nothing!
The next unit was an assortment of office materials, including numerous boxes of paper files. She found herself quite pleased to find a small dry-erase board with markers, stationary and other knick-knacks that would be nice to kill time or make it easier to communicate with Dog.
Her mind wandered as she went about gathering things, wondering more by the day what sort of young life the mysterious and silent young man called Dog had led. They hadn't had time to get into those sorts of discussions when getting to know one another at the hotel, but who really talked about those things, these days? Everyone had a past, and if you were alive and an adult right now, you had a point when your entire world went to absolute shit just like everyone else's did... The past wasn't a pretty thing to reminisce about.
She wasn't sure about the time anymore. Somewhere toward the eighth unit she broke, Charlie was pleased to find it chock full of clothing of all sorts. She rifled through the unit, musing at the prom dresses and pumps with their frilly accessories... and coming upon a box of thick flannels. She found herself grinning ear to ear, stripping out of the dirty old t-shirt hastily, "Yesss, fucking
jackpot!"
The door rattled, startling her for a moment until Dog poked his head inside, and beaconed for her to follow. He wore a similar giddy grin, from ear to ear, leading Charlie out of the main building as she languidly made to button the red and black flannel shirt, rolling the sleeves up as she trailed along after him. "What'd you find, hm? Something better than clean clothes? Ugh—they smell like mothballs, but hey, better than the same shit we've been wearing all week!"
He stopped on the first row of the garage units, lifting a metal door excitedly to expose Charlie to rows of long barrels. The sweet scent of cherry wood stirred her senses. Her dark brows knitted together gently in confusion as Dog looked to her with a smile, and then gestured to one of the barrels, taking the crowbar from her hands and using it to pry the lid off. Immediately, the spicy scent of its contents caused an amused chuckle to escape her lips, and she moved to his side to peer down into the barrel, extending a hand down to swipe the liquid pooled at the bottom.
"Oh...
ahahaha,
it's bourbon whiskey!" She laughed, "Really
good
fucking bourbon! I didn't know you could even bring things like this into a storage unit—probably from an old distillery somewhere close, holding onto old barrels for aging."
Dog grinned, and drew his empty canteen looped about his neck, lowering it down into the bottom of the barrel of aged whiskey to let it fill as Charlie shook her head and waved a hand lazily.
"We'll die of dehydration if we drink this and don't find some water! Help me drag one of these empty ones out... and hope the rain picks back up today..."
They backtracked to their safe room as the sun began to set, the thick storm clouds overhead making it seem darker than it already was. Charlie seemed in a much better mood out here, free of the stressors and worries his group had plagued her with while occupying the resort. Dog couldn't help but smile at her contentment, doing his final round to close the garage doors he'd opened while scouring the units for supplies to maintain a low profile during their occupation.
The slightest disappointment had come in the fashion of not yet finding a vehicle to try to salvage. He hoped that someone might actually utilize the garages for their intended purpose... but they had only been here a few days. And in the worst of cases, he knew exactly where he could procure a vehicle, even if it would be an absolutely insane and risky mission.
