The massive glass façade of Macy's was already completely jammed with vehicles.
Sedans, pickup trucks, even two stalled ambulances, along with scattered shopping carts, were piled together at odd angles like a heap of toys abandoned by a child.
The air reeked of gasoline.
"Damn, the road's completely blocked!" Mike cursed, thumping the window.
Calista looked out through the glass, her heart tightening.
The revolving doors at the entrance had already been twisted out of shape, and countless people were desperately squeezing inside.
Anyone who fell was instantly trampled by the crowd behind them.
Screams, crying, and angry shouting blended into a deafening chaos.
To avoid another situation like the pharmacy, Mike and Bossie joined the group going inside this time, while Ethan and Danny stayed behind to guard the four vehicles and the supplies.
"Remember," Leah said as she pushed open the door, her cold voice cutting through the noise. "Stay close to me. Don't grab useless stuff. Food, medicine, and water come first. Cali, if anything happens, get behind us!"
When she said the last sentence, her eyes locked firmly on Calista, carrying the unquestionable authority of an older sister.
Calista took a deep breath and nodded.
The eight of them stepped out of the vehicles. The crowd nearby instinctively opened a narrow path, fearful eyes sweeping over them.
Turner's shotgun slung across his back, Carver's hunting knife in hand, Jenson's sniper rifle strapped diagonally across his chest—even Calista, who looked the most harmless, held a bayonet and had a pistol tucked at her waist.
Everything about them radiated danger.
These weren't ordinary refugees.
"Oh my God, are they here to rob the place?"
"Don't stare! Just go, go!"
...
A Black woman holding a child hurriedly pulled the child behind her, avoiding them with frightened eyes.
Several young men trying to cut in line immediately shrank back when they saw the group approaching.
Fragments of whispered comments drifted into Calista's ears, making her suddenly feel a bit amused.
She felt like she was riding on their intimidation.
She almost felt like some villain bullying the weak.
"Stay in formation," Leah said, heading straight for a side entrance that had been bent out of shape by the crowd.
She kicked open the half-shattered glass door. Shards scattered across the floor. The crowd gasped, but no one dared approach.
The moment they stepped into Macy's, a wave of body odor, sweat, and cheap perfume hit them in the face.
Calista instinctively held her breath. Then she cautiously sniffed her own clothes.
Aside from the faint smell of blood, there was nothing else.
Thankfully, this body had pale, delicate skin and almost no body odor.
The first floor of Macy's was the luxury section.
Lipsticks, handbags, and broken mirrors were scattered across the normally pristine marble floor.
Several masked looters were busy with their "zero-dollar shopping," smashing jewelry counters with crowbars while glass fragments flew everywhere.
They stuffed diamond necklaces and gold watches into their backpacks while cursing.
"Damn it, how much can this stupid watch sell for?"
"Stop talking and hurry up! I think there are cops over there!" someone said, glancing up briefly before moving faster.
Not far from them, several stylish young people were holding up their phones, shouting excitedly at the chaotic crowd.
"Look! Live from the Knoxville apocalypse! Macy's is being attacked by rioters—oh my God, they saw us!"
"What the hell are you filming?" one of the masked looters said, swinging a crowbar as he walked toward them.
The pink-haired white girl at the front looked like some kind of minor influencer. One of her companions turned pale and tried to pull her away, but she shoved them off.
Calista frowned, her stomach churning.
The world was ending, and these people were still livestreaming for attention?
This wasn't some TV show. It was a living nightmare.
Leah, stern-faced but soft-hearted, was about to walk over.
"Leave it," Turner said, grabbing her arm and nodding toward the escalator to the second floor. The visible shelves up there were already empty.
Leah glanced once more toward the looters. The man only waved the crowbar as a warning to the pink-haired girl before glancing warily at their group. After realizing they weren't police, he quickly went back to his looting.
Leah decided not to interfere.
"Grab canned food, crackers, bottled water—anything that stores well," Calista said, glancing at the mall directory on the wall. "Canned food is in Zone B, basement level. Other supplies are on the first floor of Zone A."
"And radio parts," Carver reminded.
"Electronics and mechanical parts are on the second floor. I know that area well," Calista said, pointing toward the escalator.
She used to visit this Macy's often when she was studying abroad. Back then she mostly browsed smartphones and game consoles.
Though electronics from 2010 probably weren't that impressive.
Everyone looked up.
Near the second-floor entrance, piles of empty cardboard boxes and shopping carts had been shoved together, completely blocking the escalator.
"Bossie, you go to the basement with Jenson and Wells. Turner, you stay with me on the first floor. Cali, you stay close to Mike and Carver—you three go to the second floor. Fill your backpacks first, then use shopping bags. If you can't carry more, take it outside to the cars and come back. Make several trips. It's still relatively safe here."
Leah remembered how familiar Calista was with the building and assigned her to guide the second-floor group. Then she repeated firmly to Mike,
"Protect my sister."
"Got it!" everyone answered at once.
"Take the stairs," Mike said, pushing open the stairwell door.
Calista followed behind him, with Carver bringing up the rear.
The second floor was packed with people grabbing clothes, phones, and laptops. Some hugged piles of designer bags while others carried tablets and notebooks, pushing and shoving each other.
The moment they saw Mike's cold expression and the gun at his waist, the crowd immediately moved out of their way.
Within seconds, a ten-meter circle of empty space formed around them.
The two closest elderly white women clutched their stuffed shopping bags and hurried away.
Calista could still hear their fading whispers.
"Oh my God… this is terrifying. Everyone has guns…"
"Keep your voice down! Don't let them hear you. Look—their knives are still dripping with blood!"
Calista ignored them.
Relying on memories from her student days, she led Mike and Carver straight to the electronics components section.
Most of the phones and computers had already been taken.
Calista immediately headed toward the radio section. Fortunately, hardly anyone had touched the walkie-talkies.
In the apocalypse, radio communication would be far more useful than internet-based phones.
A balding middle-aged white man was busy sweeping the remaining phones into his cart. When he saw them approaching quickly, he assumed they were also here for electronics and hurriedly dragged several carts in front of them to block the way.
Mike's eyes hardened.
Without a word, he drove his elbow straight into the man.
The man had no chance to resist. With a grunt, he collapsed onto the floor.
He clearly hadn't expected someone to attack him without warning in a crowded department store.
Mike's expression remained cold.
The man clutched his bleeding nose and stared at them in terror.
"P-please…"
Calista simply raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
At a time like this, kindness was suicide.
Seeing the shelves still packed with items, Mike and Carver ignored the man as he scrambled up and ran away.
They immediately started grabbing supplies.
Their movements were quick and efficient. They opened cabinets and stuffed entire boxes of radios and walkie-talkies into their backpacks.
"And these—batteries!" Calista said suddenly, eyes lighting up.
She grabbed a large shopping bag from the floor and quickly filled it with packs of batteries.
"There's another shelf over there!"
She lifted the bag again and pointed ahead.
"Let's take this load down first," Carver said, already carrying three large bags and a stuffed backpack as he headed downstairs.
Looks like this trip was already paying off.
...
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