Stockpiling

Chapter 4 — Stockpiling

Chloe's POV

By the time I left my apartment the next morning, I had a notebook in my bag, my bank card in my wallet, and a plan I had already gone over three times.

I wasn't going to rush into buying everything at once.

That would attract too much attention.

Instead, I divided my purchases between different stores and ordered some things online. I also made sure I didn't keep everything in one place. The space had solved the problem of storage, but I still had to make my shopping look normal.

Normal was important.

The first place I visited was a wholesale food store.

I pushed my cart between the shelves, trying not to look too excited as I picked up bags of rice, beans, flour, pasta, noodles, sugar, salt and cooking oil. I added canned tomatoes, canned fish, meat that could be properly preserved, powdered milk, cereal and snacks that wouldn't spoil easily.

I stood in front of the canned food section for a while.

In my previous life, canned food had become incredibly valuable because it could last for months without refrigeration.

I filled another cart.

Then another.

By the time I reached the cashier, I had more food than I would normally buy in several months.

The young woman behind the counter looked at the items moving past her scanner and then at me.

"Are you having a party?"

I smiled. "Something like that."

She laughed. "This isn't a party amount. Are you opening a restaurant?"

"No."

"Then what are you doing with all this?"

I glanced at the growing pile of groceries.

"If I tell you, you probably won't believe me."

She raised an eyebrow.

I laughed and shook my head. "Just ring everything up."

When the final amount appeared on the screen, I paid without hesitation.

Outside, I watched the workers load everything into the delivery van I had hired.

One of them looked at the boxes stacked around him.

"Madam, are you opening a supermarket?"

I smiled.

"No. I'm just preparing."

"For what?"

I looked at him for a second before answering.

"Hard times."

He laughed as if I had made a joke.

I smiled back.

If only he knew.

I didn't send the supplies home immediately. I waited until I was alone in the van before moving the boxes into my space.

One after another, they disappeared.

The relief I felt was almost impossible to explain.

The entire van could have been emptied in minutes, yet the space inside me still looked almost empty.

I looked at the last box.

"You're going to save me a lot of trouble."

The next few days followed the same pattern.

I visited different markets and stores, buying what I could without drawing too much attention.

Water became one of my biggest priorities.

I bought bottled water in different sizes, then purchased several large containers that I could fill later. I also bought water filters and purification tablets because I remembered how quickly clean water became difficult to find.

I even bought a few simple ways to collect and purify rainwater.

The first time I saw the total on the receipt, I nearly winced.

Then I remembered what happened to people who had no water during the apocalypse.

I paid.

Medicine was next.

I went to several pharmacies rather than buying everything from one place. I stocked up on first-aid supplies, bandages, antiseptics, gloves, gauze, thermometers and other basic medical necessities.

I bought what I could legally purchase without a prescription and avoided anything I didn't understand.

The pharmacist watched as I added another box of bandages to my basket.

"Are you a nurse?"

"No."

"Medical student?"

I shook my head.

She looked at the basket again.

"Then you must have a very accident-prone family."

I laughed.

"You have no idea."

It was becoming difficult to keep a straight face whenever someone asked questions.

At one store, a woman watched me load several packs of batteries into my basket.

"Why are you buying so many?"

I shrugged.

"I don't like being unprepared."

She smiled politely, clearly unconvinced.

Neither did I blame her.

There was no way I could tell her that within a few months, people would be fighting over batteries because power would become unreliable.

I bought flashlights, rechargeable lamps, batteries and small solar-powered devices. I added power banks, a few solar panels, cooking equipment, portable stoves and other things that could work without depending entirely on electricity.

Fuel required more planning, so I focused on what I could safely and legally store and left the rest for later.

Then came clothes.

I didn't need fashionable clothes.

I needed practical ones.

Comfortable shirts, trousers, jackets, underwear, socks, sturdy shoes, raincoats and warm clothing went into my growing collection. I bought blankets and towels too.

Hygiene was another thing people underestimated.

Soap.

Toothpaste.

Toothbrushes.

Sanitary products.

Toilet paper.

Detergent.

Disinfectant.

Everything that seemed ordinary now would become a luxury later.

By the end of the week, my bank balance had dropped considerably.

I looked at it on my phone and felt a little pain in my chest.

Then I looked at the list in my notebook.

I still had more to buy.

So I kept going.

One afternoon, I returned home carrying several shopping bags when I noticed two of my neighbors standing outside their apartment.

They looked at the bags.

Then at me.

Then at the bags again.

One of them finally laughed.

"Chloe, what is happening? You've been shopping every day."

I smiled. "I like shopping."

"You've bought enough things to feed a whole village."

The other woman joined in.

"Maybe she's getting married."

They both laughed.

I laughed with them, even though the joke wasn't funny to me.

Getting married?

Three months from now, there might not even be functioning cities to hold weddings in.

"I just like being prepared," I said.

One of them shook her head.

"You're becoming strange."

Maybe I was.

But I would rather be strange and alive than normal and dead.

That evening, I sat on my bed and looked through everything I had managed to collect.

The space was filling slowly, but there was still plenty of room.

I opened my notebook and checked the list.

Food was mostly covered.

Water was underway.

Medicine was underway.

Clothes and hygiene supplies were done.

I still needed more tools, farming supplies, seeds and several other things that would become difficult to find after the apocalypse.

I added them to tomorrow's list.

Then I stopped and looked at the date.

March 27.

Only a little over two months remained.

Outside my window, people were going about their ordinary lives.

Children were playing.

Cars were moving along the road.

Someone nearby was arguing over something completely unimportant.

Everyone was living as though tomorrow would look exactly like today.

I understood them.

Three months ago, I had been exactly the same.

I had laughed at people who talked about the apocalypse.

Now I knew what was coming.

I closed my notebook and looked at the neatly packed supplies around me.

No one else knew.

No one else was preparing.

And while they laughed at the woman buying enough supplies for a small village, I simply smiled.

Let them laugh.

When the world finally changed, I wouldn't need to explain myself.

They would understand soon enough.