Gasoline and diesel. She could always use more. But getting certain supplies in bulk at home meant running into purchase limits, and there wasn't much she could do about that. Once the warehouses were cleared, she'd have to go abroad.
She paid without hesitation. The dealership manager led the delivery crew himself, taking the vehicles to the Ziyuan villa community.
Outside the showroom, she checked the time. Perfect. She could collect her order from the restaurant strip.
In a quiet spot, she brought the box truck out of her space and drove back onto the street. The diner was still packed. Lunchtime was its busiest stretch.
An employee helped her carry the individually packed meals into the truck.
She drove to a secluded corner, climbed into the back, and put the meals into her space. Then it was on to the next restaurant.
With the food collected, she stopped at gas stations along her route. Fill the tank, drain it out again. She bought several large containers for the fuel and stored them in her space. The stockpiling never stopped.
By the time she checked the clock, it was 3:30 p.m. There was a wholesale market farther out in E City, and she still had shopping to do.
She opened her navigation app. An hour's drive brought her to the coastal market. The area was on the outskirts of E City, but it was also a popular tourist spot.
She parked the truck and walked in. Far fewer people than downtown. No crowding. Many of the shoppers were out-of-town tourists.
"How much for salt?" She hadn't dared order so much in the central market. They wouldn't have had the stock, anyway. The coastal wholesalers had their own salt pans.
An elderly man in a white sleeveless shirt fanned himself with a round hand fan. He pointed to the salt stacked in front of her. Coarse grades, fine grades, different prices.
"Which kind do you want?"
"Every kind."
Twenty metric tons of each. She paid on the spot. "Can you have it delivered to the warehouses behind the downtown wholesale district? Here's the address."
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"You'll cover the freight and labor." He was pleased. A good sale.
She looked young, but she paid more readily than plenty of grown men.
Her order didn't even strike him as especially large. She'd told him she ran an import-export business, selling goods from home to foreign buyers.
Twenty metric tons per kind. Only half of what he had in the warehouse.
"No problem. Anyone around here sell coal? Charcoal, too?"
He considered it. "There is a place. Better be quick, though. I hear they're about to move out." He pointed the way.
She drove over.
A huge warehouse, half of it piled with coal. Still open for business. A FOR LEASE sign was already up on the outside wall.
A table stood in the shade beside the entrance, to the right. An electric fan ran nearby. A young man had his head down on the table, asleep.
She tapped the tabletop. "Hello."
He peered up through half-closed eyes. Two seconds passed before he stood. "Hi. Looking for coal?"
Emma nodded.
"Take a look. Good-quality stuff." Everyone around here had gone electric. Apart from a few factories, coal barely sold in town. Even the countryside had switched to electric heaters.
"Got charcoal?" She put the coal down and pulled off her gloves. In the coming freeze, these would be essential for heat.
"Next warehouse over. We have bottled gas, too. Need some?" He studied her. She looked about his age.
"Eighty metric tons of coal. Eighty of charcoal. Some gas as well." Gas would draw too much attention after the apocalypse. She wouldn't be able to use it openly.
There was that doubtful look again.
She was getting used to it. Out came her bank card. "Do you have that much?"
"We do. A four-hundred-thousand-dollar deposit." He keyed the amount into the card terminal. She inserted her bank card and entered her PIN.
She put her card away. "You're moving?"
"Lease is up in five days. They've raised the rent. I'm done." Greedy landlord. A few thousand more. What sucker would pay that?
Her eyes lit up. Back at the entrance, she found the number beneath the FOR LEASE notice and called. "Hello. Is your warehouse still available? I'd like to rent it."
They settled the terms, exchanged contact details by text, and she sent a bank transfer. It had to be done remotely. The landlord was on vacation abroad.
The young man stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. Three thousand dollars over the old rent, and she hadn't even blinked. Was she some rich girl playing at ordinary life? She certainly wasn't cut out for business.
Spare key in hand, she told him to leave everything in the warehouse. Someone would pick it up in five days.
From the market, she headed for the waterfront. Inflatable motorboats, private submersibles, little boats, fishing boats. Tourists wandered past in twos and threes, ice cream in hand.
She rented an inflatable motorboat and headed out to sea. Then she jumped in. She'd bought a lot of seafood, much of it alive. Bring in some seawater, and she could make a little inlet in her space.
The water around her began to spiral, rushing into her body.