“Home sweet home until this blows over,” he said.
“I rather like it,” I said, and studied the shelves filled with food: crackers, instant rice, canned soup, granola bars, a case of juice, jars of instant coffee, and other supplies we could survive on for a while if the world came to an end. “How long could you last in this shelter?”
“Six months. Eight tops. Not a full year.”
“How long did it take you to collect all these supplies?”
“Not long at all, if you want to know the truth.”
I noticed two handguns on the shelf next to the first-aid kit; I thought they were Smith & Wesson military and police models.
Cord noticed me looking at the guns and said, “They’re for protection only. I may need to defend myself if the world decides to end.”
“Smart man,” I said, and helped myself to a seat on the bed.
He looked at me and asked, “Do you want a towel?” I was still wet from rushing through the storm.