Our journey back from Denver was slow moving. It seemed that every couple of miles we would have to stop and take cover. With all of the bags and supplies we had collected from Resef's apartment, we were too encumbered to escape successfully. After what seemed days, we made it back to the half way point at the Centerra shopping center near Loveland. It was a chance to relax and regroup without too much fear of Gs.
There were still a few lingering Gs stumbling around the expansive parking lot. I recognized one Walker from before. She had been a cashier at Victoria's Secret. She wore a torn black blouse exposing a lacy black bra underneath. Her name tag still barely clung to what was left of the blouse. She clunked around on black high heels, her overly expensive tights were littered with holes and tears, the biggest ones on her knees from repeatedly falling. There was something too pathetic about her to put her down. She didn't seem interested in us, anyway.
I went back to the Dick's Sporting Goods where I had found my lucky pink .22 rifle. It had been the only firearm leftover in the chaos. In fact, it had still been sitting on the shelf, totally untouched, when I found it. All of the more powerful firearms had long been looted. I managed to find more ammo for "Pinkie" and Resef's damn shotgun and also found one of those bicycle trailers I used to see parents towing their kids around in. I hadn't see it last time, but wow were we happy to find it this go around! It was perfect for towing all the heavy bags we brought back. We settled into a storage room we had outfitted with pillows from the nearby mattress store. It felt good to get some shuteye.
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