Participants:
| Scene Title | Ravenous Dobermans |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Time has come to loot the empty houses inside The Dome, but at least it's done with an IOU. |
| Date | February 4, 2011 |
Roosevelt Island, inside The Dome
In times like this, when adversity forces mankind to struggle for even the basest of needs, dignity and order must be clung to. Jameson Jones is a young man who believes in being civilized in his heart, and so he clings to the semblances of organization, the symbols of civility. A clipboard. A pen. A plan.
He stands on the corner of the residential street glancing down at the paperwork, and then glancing at the first house on the list. Two children's red Radio Flyer wagons sit, empty, waiting to be loaded with supplies and dragged back to the makeshift shelter where those without homes are staying.
The list has all of the homes of people believed not to be present on the island, people who had work in the city, people known to be on a business trip, people known to be dead. The last are noted with little crosses next to their apartments. The last will not need the slips of paper JJ has made, little IOUs written in his tidy writing, a phone number to contact him for a check or reparations.
Green eyes narrow at the list and he juts his chin toward the first house, pulling a key from his pocket. "This one's the easiest. Her neighbor had the spare key, so we don't have to break in. On the others, we can check around — lots of people leave spare keys on top of door jams or under door mats. Stupid, really, but in this case, I'd rather that than break in. If we need to break in, sliding doors are the easiest. You know how to pick locks? We wanna do the least damage we can, of course. If we have to break a window, we'll board it up later, though," he explains, turning to look at Devon.
The dome coming up put quite a damper in Jaiden's plans for the week, and after five days of being in the same set of clothes, some kind of clean-up will be welcomed, and a change of clothes, no matter how odd, would be a blessing from above. Dressed in his coveralls with a backpack over his shoulder, he's exploring the space inside the dome without fear of the weather or cold. The temperature has slowly but steadily risen as the days have passed, with a cloud of smog lingering at the top of the dome, growing ominously larger day after day. A circuit of the dome found no way out, and going underground led him to believe that the thing is a sphere - which means digging won't work. Still, when he comes across two men, one with a clipboard, the other with two wagons, discussing something, he can't help but be a bit curious. His camera comes out and two pictures are taken of the men - two each, and one of the scene. Maybe there's a story there….
Devon joined into survival efforts with muted enthusiasm. Really, he'd been trying to do anything to keep his mind occupied, working on everything from helping injured to aiding with mapping out where the bubble seems to be. Staying busy, stretching the hours out as much as he can to not wonder about life outside. So when JJ came around looking for help with finding food, the teenager was quick to offer himself to the task.
With a shake of his head, Devon's arms fold across his chest. "Just break down the doors," he grumps, only partially serious. A sidelong look, still laying blame in JJ for the appearance of the dome that's wrapped itself around this part of the world, is cast toward the Frontline officer then directed toward the first house. "We can use the wood for heat and stuff later."
"I don't think we need firewood so much as water and food and maybe blankets and the like," JJ says with a smirk. "And I really don't wanna have to pay with my firstborn child for door replacement for all these people."
He glances at Jaiden snapping the picture and his brows raise, his hand lifting to wave at the man. "Just don't publish that with a caption sayin' FRONTLINE's black boy looted the neighborhood, yo," he tosses toward the Australian with a smirk, lifting his clipboard. "These are folks who aren't caught in here with us — seeing if they have some water and supplies we can use. I intend to pay 'em back," he explains, a little quickly as if he'd been caught doing something wrong.
The young man moves to the small home's front door, unlocking it and pushing it open cautiously.
A small white and black cat darts out and causes JJ to jump, then laugh with some chagrin. "Man, I didn't even think about asking about pets. Hopefully no one has a ravenous Doberman waiting to eat us."
"Shouldn't be too bad, mate. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all." Hanging from Jaiden's pack are two 2-liter bottles full of water, swinging from their tethers as he approaches closer. "I don't think anyone'll fault you for doing what you need to do to survive. We're not animals in here, after all.'
A glance is cast toward Jaiden, more curiosity than the disdain Devon had shown JJ. The Fronliner's quipped caption, coupled with the Australian's appearance is enough to break through the brooding behavior. The teenager snorts a laugh and shakes his head. "Yeah, no one'll care too much. Especially with those IOU's."
Devon turns back for the house, one hand grabbing hold of a wagon. He watches the cat dart past then looks toward the house's interior. "Yeah… with luck any dogs would be happy to see us."
"Happy to see your tasty flesh, you mean," JJ tosses, but he gives a nod toward Jaiden. "That's the idea. Just feel bad taking shit from people, even if they're not here to use it. I figure anything produce is doing them a favor; less crap to throw out later when they get back and it's gone bad. But canned stuff, water, any meds… well."
He nods to the inside of the house. "We can probably use a hand, if you're inclined to help. We didn't really introduce ourselves before. I'm Jameson Jones, you can call me JJ or Jones or J." He leaves Devon to introduce himself, or not.
IF the names mean anything, Jaiden doesn't register it. He did recognize the term 'frontline' as the team that one of his friends belongs to, but there's no need in tipping his hand about that just yet. "Nice to meet you, J. I'm Jaiden….stuck in here, same as you lot. And sure, I can help. Gives me a chance to take some pictures of how people left things before the dome went up…maybe find some clean clothes in a closit too."
"Look at the other side," Devon says as he drags the wagon toward the door. "We could either take their food, or start using their homes to keep the bodies in of those that starve to death." He grins pleasantly toward JJ, leaving the wagon a single pace from the door. "I'm for finding food and other supplies."
The teenager steps into the house, to begin the searching for useful things. Food and drink is more a priority, and so the kitchen is sought for first. "I'm Devon," he calls over his shoulder.
"Nice to meet you," JJ says as he steps into the house. "You check the kitchen. I'll grab the bathroom for med supplies. Jaiden, you wanna look for linens, pillows, blankets, that kinda thing? Let me know whatever you take so I can itemize it on the IOU."
He moves toward the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet and drawers. Prescription antibiotics and painkillers are a welcome boon and bounty, along with over the counter medicines like cough syrup and ibuprofen, bandaids and Neosporin. "Score," he says, tossing them into a decorative basket on the counter. Towels and soap are also grabbed and he heads toward the wagon to stock it.
Falling easily into step, Jaiden heads up the stairs to the master bedroom where, after some digging about in a cupboard, finds a pack of underwear still in the wrapper, and dozens of white socks wrapped tight in little balls. "Oh thank god…" he sighs softly, tucking a few into his backpack before starting to fling pillows, blankets, and the like down the stairs to the landing below. No sense in walking up and down, and it's not like pillos'll break anything.
Luck doesn't appear to hold out in the kitchen end of the house. Sounds of rummaging in cabinetry echo through the empty hallway. "Cat food, cat food, cat food…" Devon's voice can be heard, punctuated by the metallic thud of what can be assumed is catfood. "Maybe if we're really desperate, but I think I'd eat that cat first." But more time passes, things pushed aside and rifled through eventually yeilds canned beets, ramen, and Spam.
"There's more," Devon says to whoever might be listening, JJ or Jaiden or both. "Haven't looked in the fridge yet."
JJ snorts a little at Devon. "No eating cats unless we get desperate, and I don't think it's gonna come to that. There'll be other food in other houses. People should really learn to stock up on water though — it's really the most important thing to have on hand in an emergency," he points out, moving to the refrigerator to help out.
"Aha, here's some." Not a lot — just a water jug meant to sit on a refrigerator shelf, complete with a little spigot. "Couple gallons. Better than nothing." This, along with a bag of apples, is moved to the wagon, and JJ starts writing the supplies on the IOU. "Other than that, mustard, old milk, and some butter… This is a woman who must eat out all the time." He sticks the IOU on the refrigerator, using the Las Vegas magnet to hold it in place.
Pillowcase full of blankets and the like, Jaiden comes back down the stairs and stuffs one full, slinging it into the wagon, the top tied up in a quick knot to keep it all together. "I've got water taken care of, so that shouldn't be too big of a problem."
"Probably spends her food budget on the cat," Devon states in aside as he returns to the kitchen. The catfood is pushed into a pile with his foot, left in front of the pantry that holds little else of use. He investigates the freezer, poking at several questionable packages. "Frozen veggies in here, Frontline Guy. Something that.. might be meat? Or had been." Making a face, the teenager pushes the freezer closed and heads for the front door.
"I'd rather stay away from anything that's not fresh or canned. No electricity for five days — I'm not gonna chance eating that. No cans of tuna that's not cat food? Ah, well, maybe more luck on the next house." JJ puts a check next to the address, and adds a note of "cat food." Just in case they need it.
He really hopes it doesn't come to that.
The next house is a few doors down, a confirmed death — someone had seen the man severed by the dome. A nice older man, standing in the wrong spot at the wrong time. "This one's a free for all. In fact, someone could hole up here if they want. I don't have a key, though." JJ hops a small wall that leads to a side yard, a sliding door there to enter. He pushes inward hard, giving the glass his shoulder and full weight until the latch is displaced, and then he slides over. "Another tip — put a broom handle between the slider and the wall to keep burglars out," he tells Devon as he peers into the empty house, waiting for any ravenous Dobermans to come growling.
"Don't stick your head in that freezer then," Devon says with a smirk. It's an attempt at humor, though the situation really isn't that funny. He follows the Frontline officer, dragging the wagon behind him, as they move down the street and to the next house. Explantion for its status is met with a shrug, the teenager refusing to think any more about those who're dead because of the bubble, and once the way is opened he follows the other inside.
This house is looted, yeilding far better results than the first. Canned vegetables and fruits mostly, a supply of hard candies, and bottled juices are what the pair find. Along with a well stocked first aid kit and flashlights, even a case of bottled water after some searching. Someone learned from last winter to keep some supplies on hand.
The task continues throughout the day. Some houses and apartments hold treasures better than others. The supplies that JJ and Devon eventually find range from canned foods of all sorts, ramen, water and juice. There's bandages and extra flashlights, some batteries, a hurricaine lamp. Blankets and towels drape over everything, strapped down with bungees to make the towing easier. There's no telling if it'll be enough, but at least it's a start.
