Paul exited the flat panel cave and passed into a labyrinth of tables piled high with folded clothing. Once through that, he turned down the first of the food aisles looking for inexpensive calories. Instead, the aisle was full of snack crackers of every flavor imaginable, in boxes and plastic jugs each big enough to feed him and Heidi for a few days. But twenty dollars for two days’ worth of snack crackers was a high price compared to a fifty-pound bag of rice that could feed them for three weeks.
Nevertheless, self-consciousness was setting in. He wanted the rice, beans, and oil, but he didn’t want to look like an Ebola-fearing prepper, even if that was exactly what he was. So a giant-sized box of granola bars found its way into the basket. They were expensive calories, but a granola bar every other day would add a little variety to a diet of rice and beans. It would also be a distracting snack food when the cashier scrutinized his purchase. His feeling of silliness was setting in, and he was pretty sure the cashier was going to ask him why he needed food in such bulk.
He found the rice two aisles over. A fifty-pound bag of sugar made it into the basket—everything tastes good with sugar on it—along with a five-gallon jug of cooking oil. A double pack of large peanut butter jars joined all of that along with a gallon of honey, four pounds of salt, and a case of Cokes. No beans, though.
He made several circuits of the store looking for the beans. There were none to be found.
He picked up a jug of bleach, recalling from his Boy Scout days that a capful in some measure of water would render it drinkable. He didn’t know if boiling would become necessary, or even doable. The bleach would give he and Heidi access to water sources that might otherwise be unusable.
Once in line at the cashier, his self-consciousness made him look around nervously, especially when he compared his load with the mixed greens, a bottle of wine, salmon, some fresh cut flowers, and a bag of apples being bought by the woman in front of him. She was planning on cooking a nice dinner and plying some guy with enough wine to make her wrinkles invisible so she could get him into bed.
The cashier rang up the woman and sent her on her way.
To Paul’s relief, when his turn arrived to check out, neither the cashier nor her helper commented on his obvious Doomsday Prepper hoard. A few minutes later, the hoard was stashed in the back of his truck and he was driving home, wondering how he was going to explain fifty-pound bags of dry goods to Heidi.
Chapter 16
Getting the four-wheel drive vehicles undetected over the Ugandan border from Kenya was as easy as it was in any other part of the Third World. Najid Almasi and his men hadn’t seen anything but shrubs, trees, animals, and farms since heading east across the road north of Kitale. They crossed the border far from any roads and far from any towns. No bribes needed to be paid.
More importantly, no questions needed to be asked. No witnesses needed to be paid extra to hold their tongues about eight armed Arab men who’d crossed the border—once into Uganda and once back out—with a sick young man riding along.
Having successfully crossed into Uganda on their way to Kapchorwa, they stopped their Land Rovers in the middle of the dirt road and they all got out.
One of the men took several boxes out of the back of Najid’s Land Rover, opened them, and started passing out plastic-wrapped packets. Each of the eight men received one yellow Tyvek suit, a pair of elbow-length rubber gloves, goggles, a chemical protective hood, and a surgical mask. The men donned the gear. It was hot, suffocating equipment in the humid East African sun, but it was necessary, given the dangers ahead. They loaded back into the vehicles, and with air conditioners running at maximum, they drove the last few miles into Kapchorwa.
Chapter 17
They sat in a booth at the restaurant, because they always sat in a booth—usually the same booth. They ordered their usual pizza from their usual waiter, Nick. And as usual, Paul felt a pang of guilt because they spent too much money eating out. The evidence being that they had a usual booth, a usual pizza, and a usual waiter.
Heidi started checking her Facebook page on her phone as soon as Nick left the drinks. She checked in at the pizza place, checked the newsfeed, and wrote a comment about something that made her laugh to herself.
Paul swirled the ice in his glass with the straw and when the cubes had jingled against the glass enough times, he said, “You might think this is a little weird.”
“What?” Heidi didn’t look up from her phone, which wasn’t unusual. She liked to tell herself that she was a multitasker, when in fact she was just good at lying to herself about ignoring people.
Paul was used to it. “After that story on the news yesterday I went to Costco and bought some stuff.”
“Uh-huh.” Heidi slid her finger down the screen, glanced up, smiled, and looked back down at her phone.
“I bought a fifty-pound bag of rice, five gallons of cooking oil, and some other stuff.”
Heidi scrolled again, read some more, stopped, then looked up. “You what?”
“It’s probably nothing. I mean, I may be worried about nothing, but after that story in the news about that guy showing up in New York with Ebola, I got worried.”
“You think Ebola is here?” she asked.
“I honestly doubt it.”
“What does this have to do with buying fifty pounds of rice at Costco?”
Paul looked around to assure himself that no one was listening to the conversation. “I’m a little embarrassed about it.”
Heidi put her phone down on the table. She was ready to give her full attention.
Knowing that wouldn’t last long, Paul continued, “I kind of feel like a prepper.”
“A prepper?”
“You know. Like those Doomsday Preppers you see on TV.”
She cringed. “You bought rice because you’re a Doomsday Prepper?”
“No, not really. Maybe a little. Like I said, I got worried because of that Ebola thing in New York. If there’s an outbreak there, things could kind of go to shit pretty quickly in the rest of the country. I just figured if I spent a hundred bucks or so at Costco, we’d be safe. In theory, we’d have enough to eat for two or three months in case we couldn’t go out.”
“Rice?” Heidi’s tone made it clear she was displeased. “Please don’t tell me it’s white rice.”
“They only had white in bulk. I couldn’t find any brown.”
“Bland, boring white rice.” Heidi’s face showed clear disappointment.
She was missing the point. Paul said, “Yeah, I didn’t say we were going to like the food. Only that we’d have something to keep us alive, just in case.”
Heidi leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, entirely serious. “You know this sounds a little nuts, right? I’m not saying you’re nuts, but you know, people might think that. Do you really think there’s a danger?”
Paul leaned back and tried to look casual. “No, not really. I just worry about it, that’s all. I guess I figured a hundred bucks was a small price to pay to assuage my fears over this Ebola thing. We can stick it in the basement and not worry about it. If we need it, it’s there. If we don’t, we’re not going to miss a hundred bucks.”
“This isn’t like you.”
“I know,” Paul agreed. “I hate white rice too. But like I said, they didn’t have brown.”