4)

I felt great.

At least I felt great after a shower, getting dressed in clean clothes and then putting on a set of rubber gloves, a quarantine mask with enough air freshener sprayed on it to make me feel light headed and a entire package of disinfectant wipes that ended up tossed into the trash, followed by the mop, and the bucket.

Not going to ask the Minute maids cleaning service to deal with that mess, didn't even want to think of the questions, even unasked one, all of that could bring up.

But after that, I was full of energy, my eyesight was better then had been since I was a teen. The flab was gone and the muscles toned. The fingers that hadn't bent all the way since it had a car hood slammed shut on them were fully working again.

Basically everything wrong with me other then still looking like someone on the wrong side of sixty was all fixed up, and as best I could tell, I was in the best possible shape someone my age could be.

Even things that had just been gone were back, like a few teeth I had been short on, and as I discovered in the shower, something that had been cut off shortly after my birth was now restored.

That was going to take a little getting used to.

I was hungry. Very hungry

Since I was pretty certain diabetes and cholesterol wasn’t a concern anymore, what was left of the one package of bacon a month I had been rationing out for the week went into the copper frying pan, in it’s entirety. Six slices of wheat toast with real butter. Four, hell, five eggs right into the bacon grease with a dash of garlic powder and a pinch of dried parsley.

All that and I was still looking for desert, so grocery shopping today.

Shoot, by all that howling last night there just had to be other werewolves in the area, at least more then just the girl. The first day after the full moon would be the key time to keep a eye out for a new born lycanthrope, and someone buying up a bunch of food they shouldn't be eating at their age would be a major red flag.

Just about every cheesy urban fantasy novel had some goofball claiming to be in rightfully in charge because someone had watched a wolf bossing around his mostly grown cubs and turned it into the myth of alpha wolves, and if that was how werewolves really did things I had no intention of having to deal with or play along with someone else’s power trip.

Best to just avoid them and opt out of any bullshit.

The big box store in this part of the state was a Redd’Smart and the closest one was about a forty minute drive away, the next closest one was a hour and a half away.

Being retired meant I had more then enough time to spend driving out of my way, and winning the lottery meant I had a big black ford expedition to haul things around in.

Sticking my head out the window once I got on the highway did nothing for me but mess up my hair.

Just thinking about all the food I could now eat again, without having to measure portions, or read the labels, was making me hungry as I grabbed a cart. I was planning on buying a couple of plastic bins to throw some bags of ice into keep things cold for the trip back and decided that would work well enough for me to give me the time I needed to hit the barbecue place I had passed getting off the interstate before I headed home.

That’s when I smelled the rot.

The smell was enough to make me wince and try to curl my upper lip up against my nose, how the hell did they let something get that bad without throwing it out. I looked around for someone in the telltale red staff apron busy cleaning whatever it was up.

Instead I found a pale skinny woman with a name tag saying assistant manager and the name Nicole looking back at me.

The smell was coming from her.

I gave her such a bad look it made her jump back and look around for help while covering her mouth.

She ran, well quickly walked, away. Not sure what is going on there, but I. Need. Food.

Tomatoes, lettuce, onions, potatoes, cucumbers, carrots, then on to the fruit.

Cherries, bananas, apples, oranges, grapes, the big black one with no seeds. A mango? why not.

I had made it all the way back to the meat and dairy before the rot smell was back, even stronger.

This time there was three of them.

Nicole was in the back with a big, big, guy from the meat department tagged as Earl, and a older man with a tie who was name-tagged as a manager named Solomon.

Earl had a meat cleaver large enough to take the head off a cow clutched in one hand, and Sal, gonna shorten Solomon here, had a clipboard.

All three seemed nervous, but Sal was hiding it better.

“We don’t want any trouble.”

Okay? “Neither do I, I just want ribs.” I pointed to the meat cooler full of pig parts, they were on sale. “and I was hoping to hit the bakery for some donuts too.”

Nicole seemed confused, Earl snorted, and Sal looked very carefully blank faced.

“Your kind don’t normally shop here.”

I shrugged. “You had a sale” I pointed at the ribs again and took the chance to grab two, no, four slabs, “and I’m new to the area, don’t know the local shops.”

He looked at the now overfull cart. “So it doesn't upset you being around us.”

Wish I knew what “us” was. “Well, you know, I’m not happy about it, but it’s not like you’re doing...that,” I waved my hands around vaguely in their direction “on purpose. Just give me some space and I'll pay at the register and be on my way.”

Sal nodded “Fair enough, feel free to come by anytime day or night, there will be no problems from us, and I will let the others know.” then he turned and waved away the other two. Others? Just how many of what ever they are were working here, or did he mean others as in other supernatural creatures, like say, the wolves back in Quinne.

Nope, not signing up for the Prepper value card at the register, thank you very much, and I’ll pay in cash, not credit.

Big guy was waiting for me near the inner end of the entrance, the entrance with the forty foot gap between the doors to the outside and the door into the actual store.

For some reason people were giving the hulking seven foot tall, only a slight exaggeration, figure in the blood stained apron a wide berth. I would have done the same if he hadn’t waved me over.

The smell from him alone was almost as bad as the three of them together.

“The girl, Nicole, she was...is, a addict.” he handed me a card, “If she comes sniffing around looking for a hit, call me to deal with her.

No frecking clue here, but I took the card.

Earl Coventry, with a phone number and e-mail address. Dosers Anonymous. Sponsor.

Everyday more questions. But I’m glad she’s getting help for whatever that was about.

The barbecued chicken at Slab’s grill was excellent, and there was no need for doggy bag, but the ice cream I had in the back of the truck had melted a bit by the time I got home.