![[98 Epigraphs#019]] # Chapter 19 *How can a place still reek of curry after 2 months?* Jack thought, clearing the large mudroom on the right of the entryway, past the door to the garage. Scrap rushed down the hall, nose up, presumably to the kitchen. *Floppy eared old man.* “Corinne said this one is three stories, wanna take upstairs?” Jack asked as Arden walked in. She’d been inspecting the new SUV they’d gotten from the garage. “Works with me. We’ll tag team this floor first.” Her black and white hair was beginning to grow longer, now to the middle of her forearm, much like Rose. She cleared the left side of the hall, then moved on to the kitchen. Jack went to the left at the end of the hallway, and was greeted by a TV room. It had a large shag rug, with five electric recliners, and a two-seater mall style reclining massage chair. *Superficial bastards.* “God, I hate the smell of curry.” Jack heard Arden say from across the large island in the kitchen. He joined her there, as she was looking in the fridge. “Three ovens?” Jack asked, then counted the fridges in his head. “These people were crazy. Two microwaves as well.” *Not to mention the three fridges in the garage, the one in the mudroom, and these two.* After clearing the living room with its massive L shaped couch, as well as the office and master bedroom, Arden took the stairs from the living room to the second story. Jack took the basement stairs, which were across from the pantry. Jack heard the alternating footsteps ascending as he descended, Scrap had decided to go with Arden. Not a real shocker, he seemed to prefer her anyway. *His old butt probably sympathizes with her deafness.* The old brown dog looked like he was getting cataracts, eyes cloudy, but so deep. The lights all through the house were still on, which was good. It meant the solar panels would take a lot of the current generator use and get rid of it. *Then we can conserve fuel even more.* “Dude. A minibar.” Jack said aloud, to nobody in particular. He opened the liquor cabinet. “Chock full.” He was never allowed alcohol in old Ironsoul, but he hadn’t run the place. *I think I deserve a drink at this point.* Jack quickly brushed off the thought, moving on to the other side of the room. There were just a couple bedrooms and a bathroom there. He went back toward the mini bar, passing a pool table and another couch with a TV. A door stood next to the minibar, he opened it. “A theater? Seriously?” It wasn’t like a normal movie theater, there were just two massive recliners in the back, a drink machine and another fridge on the wall near the chairs. The entire carpet was red, with an assortment of sports teams logos across it. Nothing else exciting happened down below, so Jack made his way up the stairs, he heard Arden call for him, so he also went up the other flight. Scrap came toward him, with his tail wagging. “Shit, you old dog,” Jack said as he caught the boy. Arden rushed around the corner, having heard the thuds of Scrap’s fall. “Is he okay?” “Old boomer idiot decided the stairs were a slide.” “Oh poor blind guy. Oh yeah, come to the back bedroom.” Arden said, disappearing once more. Jack climbed the rest of the stairs, careful to stop Scrap from falling again. There weren’t as many rooms upstairs as there were downstairs, so Jack easily made his way to Arden. “Fourteen mattresses.” “Fourteen?” Jack looked around the room. *She’s right. The hell?* “That’s really weird.” His first guess was human trafficking, but the room was not dirty at all, same with the mattresses. “There are like twenty suitcases in the closet.” “Ah must have had a lot of family over. Weird to keep them up here like that, though.” The pair left the home, keeping a close eye on Scrap. The other girls had finished their rounds outside. Their clothes were clean, not bloodied or anything, so they hadn’t had a very eventful time. “How many solar panels?” Arden asked. “Stopped counting at 60, that was only like halfway.” Raven smiled. “Won’t have to keep using generators if we can get these off.” “Shoot that will take several days right?” Jack asked. *Not necessarily a bad thing, we probably need something productive to do.* “Yeah. We can take a few at a time in the truck and trailer, but we’ll need more people.” Corinne replied, “It would probably be best to treat this like a supply or reporting run.” “Agreed.” Raven and Jack said in unison. “There are like ten or twelve refrigerators in there. Three ovens, two microwaves, and a couple dozen mattresses.” Jack said, “also a lot of canned goods in the pantry and under the stairs.” *The liquor will be mine I feel.* “Let’s go ahead and get the food and microwaves. We can get the others in a few days.” Raven said, approaching the house. The group left shortly thereafter, Jack was able to sneak a bottle of moonshine out. Alcohol wasn't banned, the world was ending after all, but broadly by the demigods, it was frowned upon. In general, aside from wine, modern day people just didn’t tend to drink as heavily as maybe before the secession war. Most people Jack’s age simply didn’t drink. *A lost part of culture.* After 2429, they went to the large house, 105 pinelog trail. It was owned by the Benton family before the war, they’d gotten filthy rich on premium items for rich people. Much like the old Gucci and Louis Vuitton brands. The main difference being that they specialized in distribution. They had a gate, unlike the gas station owners. The entire property was massive, with hills and a lakefront back behind the home. Corinne had collapsed into narcoleptic slumber on the drive, but when she came to, half an hour later, they broke down the gate. They had to drive a quarter mile down the driveway. “Good god above.” Jack walked up to the door. The house was much larger than the last one, looking more like a palace than a house. The pillars at the front entry stretched from the ground, up to the third story balcony. “How many handbags must one sell to get this fucking rich?” Nobody else answered, but Corinne and Arden rounded the corner and started to clear the side buildings, and the grounds. Several of the dead roamed about, house cleaners and other caretakers mostly. This left Raven and Jack to clear out the main building. They entered through a side door, as the garage was detached from the house. *Who on earth needs a five-car garage?* “It’s four stories, right?” Raven asked, entering as Jack held the door. No alarm sounded, Jack assumed these people were too rich to be bothered with an audible alarm. “Seem’s about right. Corinne had some good connections before the fall.” The floors were a white marble, shining where the floor runners didn’t cover them. “Not really sure how to do this the most effective way, honestly.” “We probably need to cover each other’s asses. I say we clear the top floor first, and make our way down.” Raven said, taking the flight of stairs directly to their left. It was a spiral, small, probably a servant’s access. *Though, I don’t remember people having servants before the war.* Not like it mattered. That staircase took them only to the second floor, so they quickly found the stairs to the third. The stairs in question were found tucked in a closet. *That’s weird as hell.* The closet was near the edge of the balcony overlooking the first floor. “This is crazy,” Raven said, taking the stairs first. Jack did his best not to look too far up, rather watching his feet. He was surprised when his head slammed into her foot when he neared the top. “So you weren’t looking were you?” “Gods, Raven, what was that for.” “Oh, you weren’t staring at my ass.” She said, with a playful smile, and a slight blush. *Is she flirting with me?* Charlie had just died, surely… “I’m sorry. I know Charlie just, well, just passed. I shouldn’t be flirting.” Jack saw her eyes start to well up. “Raven,” Jack gave her a hug. “I miss her too. You don’t need to change every interaction because she’s gone. We three always flirted.” “I know.” She said, breath catching. “I don’t know what to do anymore.” He sat with her a short while, surveying the smaller third story. “Not one single interesting book. What kind of library is this.” She started to get over her minor breakdown, finally taking Jack’s hand to help her stand. She walked over to read some of the titles closer. “Histories, mostly. Other high class books. Not one single old ‘1984’ or ‘Fahrenheit 451.’” “Exactly. All old world war two shit.” Various medals were displayed in cases on the shelves, awards from country clubs, but most interestingly, “Is that a thirty-three degree mason medal?” Jack asked, approaching. Freemasons, as well as smoking and alcohol, had become less and less common. Even before the war, they weren’t in high popularity. “Wow. I remember reading about the masons from before the secession war. Didn’t they die out?” “Guess not.” Jack said, removing the medal and pocketing it. Across from the large useless bookshelves, were smaller sets of displays, laid out in several U shaped areas, with reading chairs. The cases were floor to ceiling in the smaller room. They had different news articles and awards tacked to them, laminated, of course. ‘Mrs. Elma Benton grants 2M to 4h clubs of Athens.’ One read, another, ‘Burton Benton donates 13 million to Israel.’ “Weird folk. Gotta be cover for something else right?” Jack asked, gesturing to the display. “Right? Israel was set to dissolve even then, only little groups vie for power these days.” “Yeah. Odd.” They left the top floor, nothing worth raiding was up there. Raven opened the door right into Corinne. “Ah fuck.” Corinne said, covering her nose. “So that’s where the stairs were.” Raven laughed but helped the poor serial killer to her feet. They walked the second floor, Corinne counting bathrooms and bedrooms. The house was huge, gaudy, and everything looked very similar. Not sterile, but no life to it. They learned more details as they went, raiding drawers and things of that nature. The place had been built in the late 1980s, and was now worth over 15 million dollars. It had 12 bathrooms, 8 bedrooms, and sat on a 20 acre lot. Originally 200, which they’d sold to develop the rest of the community. The first floor was just like the other two above it, so they headed to the basement from the large spiral stairs in the main floor. The most interesting thing they saw after those two, before the basement, had to be the super old, wired telephones. They were in every room but the top one. *Guess that’s the 1980s rich people style.* The basement had a small kitchen in it, still a good size, but not nearly the size of the one in the floor above. Off the side of it was a table and barstools, bottles of alcohol displayed on the wall nearby, near sterile old family portraits. Nobody actually looked happy in them. A small pocket flask sat on the counter, the first sign of someone actually living in the home. The group split up, and cleared the rest of the rooms. “Guys,” Jack called, “Got a game room!” It had half a dozen pinball machines, all the consoles since the 1990s, and a large flat screen. Having spent half an hour wasting time on old pinball machines, they entered the last room, just past the game room. Jack could spell it before they even opened the door. Arden pulled the door open, Scrap shied away from it. “Gods.” Jack swore, raising his weapon and shooting the poor bastard inside. The man must have been elderly, skin almost translucent. He had a knife through the palm of his hand, directly into the expensive mahogany desk. His stomach was cut open, and a failed suicide shot hand torn apart is face. Corinne stood staring, Arden did her best to remove her from the sight. *Poor girl murders to satiate herself, but even this is too much.* Everything he’d seen effected Jack less and less. The only thing to actually rock him was Charlie’s demise. They left the house, not bothering to raid it, except that Jack saw Raven take the flask from the counter. *We’ll have to have a drink sometime.* Jack chuckled internally. [[20 Deer]]