When someone is repeatedly stung by bees, they tend to give a wide berth to any known hives in the future. Jake and Tanner are anything but cocky, but they do possess a confidence most on earth do not.
'Torture' is a simple but highly direct word. When the entire world was tormented and tortured by the Scorpion Locusts for five very long months, the ones who refused to give their lives to the Lord received plenty of 'bee stings'. They all felt the beginning of the Woes and whether they have ever read a single word from the scriptures, deep down they all feel something more is coming.
Jake and Tanner never go out of their way to annoy, gloat, or even act 'better than' the unsealed or unsaved. But with the world on edge, KNOWING something else horrible is coming, the two scavengers have noticed, more and more, that nobody stands in their way. Ever. The 'Clean Ones' insult during the five months of torment has a different ring to it these days. The two have witnessed large groups of people changing direction once they notice Tanner and Jake coming. There comes a point when humanity stops poking the badger.
Is there violence? Undoubtedly. Does hate still exist? Absolutely. But Jake and Tanner have never been attacked, let alone approached, in the few months since the Scorpion Locusts. So they nonchalantly head to their destination. They joke, plan, and chum around like two lifelong friends on a Sunday stroll through a lush, public park. Unfortunately, it is anything but lush these days. It is filthy and full of ruins. Arson and looting are in full force. Betrayal and murder are out of control. Yet still, the two Sealed are left alone to their daily business of scavenging.
The asphalt is a jagged mosaic of potholes and gray litter. It crunches under their boots with a rhythmic, lonely sound. Every storefront they pass is a hollowed-out skull. The glass from the windows has been pulverized into a fine, glittering grit that coats the sidewalks. It catches what little light manages to pierce through the heavy, bruised clouds.
A group of survivors huddles under the sagging awning of a former pharmacy. They spot the duo from a block away. The conversation stops instantly. One man clutches a rusted tire iron and locks eyes with Tanner for a split second. His gaze drops to the pavement. He pulls his hood lower and covers his eyes. Without a word, the entire group shifts. They all face the ruin of a business until the Sealed are out of sight.
As the two pass the group, Jake drops a tightly folded paper at their feet. It offers insight into God's grace and how to find them if there is any interest. They will not get any response from anyone in this collective.
Jake and Tanner do not even break their stride. They step over some discarded, soot-covered toys and a pile of melted electronics. Their conversation never wavers from the merits of the great drawing contest taking place or the giggling about the twins' dramatic response to Charcoal's injury. To the world, they are the 'Clean Ones'. They are walking omens of a debt that is still being collected.
They round the final corner and there it is. The Army Surplus. The heavy steel door is slightly ajar. It is one of the very few intact front doors left standing in this war-stricken city. It whines on a single rusted hinge as the stiff breeze catches it.
The door is covered in soot and rust. These are two telling signs that this world is completely different from the one when the steel was shining and sturdy.
Before Tanner can walk carefree into the surplus, Jake holds a stiff arm out. He halts his oblivious partner. "Look down there, brother."
Tanner looks around a little. "Yeah? There's cigarette butts everywhere we go. Why do you care now?"
Jake's brow furrows a little. "Dude. I don't. Look again. There." He points to another spot. "And there. And there."
Tanner sees them. "Right. I think they're the same as the last time, right?"
"Yes. And the time before that too. Those are very distinctive boot prints." Jake, still keeping his arm in front of his travel companion, slowly looks past the door frame.
Tanner steps around Jake's protective arm. From behind Jake, he opens the heavy door as far as its single hinge will allow. "Maybe this will help a bit. I didn't bring my headlamp. It fell off when I tripped entering the thrift store earlier."
Jake only offers a couple of nods before turning his headlamp on. The flashlight crowns are something they use regularly. This very store has the batteries they need for them.
They enter a little more cautiously than usual. They notice the distinct boot prints that are fresh in the latest layer of dust. Jake sees it first and points.
Tanner responds. He speaks, his voice a little thinner than usual. "I see it. We would've taken a nice army pack like that if it were here the other times."
Before Tanner can reach down to investigate the pack, Jake intervenes. "Leave it, Tanner. See how there isn't any dust on it like everything else in here? The dust has settled again, over everything, but not the army pack. Someone is either in here or very recently left it. I didn't notice any of these prints headed toward the door. Did you?"
"You're right. Let's just get the batteries and get out. Maybe we can stop by that pool hall we've been wanting to look through."
"That, brother, is a great idea." Jake raises his hands as a visual cue for anyone who may be in the shadows watching them. "We don't want any trouble. We'll just grab the batteries we need and head out. We'll even leave some for you. We're peaceful."
They inch forward toward the two-way swinging door that hides one of the small storage rooms in back. Tanner is on Jake's heels. They move slowly, fluidly, cautiously. They are inches from the swinging door. Ready to slowly push, retrieve batteries, and get out.
WHAM!!
The door flies at them. They both stumble onto their backsides as a figure streaks by, scooping up the army pack and rushing for the front door.
The person stops and sets the army pack at the opening of the surplus. It is a good-sized man wearing dark clothes with a large hood concealing his face.
The light behind the opening only allows the Sealed to watch the silhouette turn back towards them. The man raises a weapon. It catches a couple reflections as the modified bat is lifted. He grips the weapon with both hands and starts running at the duo still sitting on the dusty floor. The man yells out a war cry while charging.
"WHOA WHOA WHOA!!" Both Jake and Tanner instinctively hold their hands up in a defensive position.
"WAIT!!" Tanner bellows out the plea.
The bat-wielding aggressor reaches the downed men. But he stops his swing from landing somehow.
Jake's headlamp reveals the man's face as he examines the Sealed. His expression of rage and violence evaporates. "Oh, Clean Ones. I'm sorry, I didn't know." He hurries back to the entrance of the surplus.
"Hold on!" Jake hollers at the man. The man turns to face the two still seated. Jake continues. "I'm Jake, this is Tanner. We only..."
The man points his weapon at the Sealed while cutting Jake off. "I don't care what your names are. Your Seal is saving you from a beating. Don't follow me or I'll finish it next time." He grabs the army pack and heads outside. He pauses, only a single step out. He does not bother turning back to them. "DO. NOT. FOLLOW ME."
He rounds the door frame and disappears into the gray grit of the city.