Once Claude finishes his delicious breakfast, which featured a variety of dishes and desserts, he returns upstairs to his designated room to change into more outdoor attire. His choice for the day is a set of blue pants and a tucked-in white shirt, paired up with a brown leather jacket on top and some nice white sneakers for his socks.
Now dressed in style for the rest of the world, he heads back down the stairs and meets up with his aunt, who was patiently waiting for him at the front door. She throws Claude a quick glance, followed by a question.
"You ready to go out?" she asks her nephew as she examines his outfit.
"Yes, aunt. I am ready," he replies. She quickly stands in front of the door, blocking his path.
"Are you sure? You still got that list I gave you earlier?" Claude digs his hand into his leather jacket's pocket and pulls out the piece of paper. He takes a look at the writing before flipping it over for her to see.
"Got it right here, Aunt," he says, before sliding it back in its place. Carrol gives her nephew a smile.
"Good," she comments.
Carrol starts reaching into her purse and starts handing him over some stuff he needs to do this little errand for her. These items included her credit card, her Costco membership, her car keys, her pepper spray, and a lot more. As she hands over these items, she gives Claude a few more instructions.
"Remember, if they don't have what's on the list, then get whatever there is and find them somewhere else," she explains.
"Trust me, you do not want to go tomorrow to get them. You'll be touring the city all day!" she claims.
"I'll keep that in mind," Claude responds.
"Oh, and make sure you drive safely! I don't want your mother tearing my house apart just because you got hurt. You got that?" Claude nods again. She then hands over her car keys and closes her purse.
"Well, I think that's all you need. You should be going now."
"Thank you so much for doing this for us, Claude. I really mean it! You are saving me a lot of time," Carrol tells Claude as she reaches for the doorknob.
"You're welcome, aunt. But eh," Claude replies.
"Where is the gun?" he questions. Carrol freezes upon hearing Claude ask her about the pistol. She slaps herself in the forehead and slowly turns around.
"Right! I forgot! It's in the drawer."
She then walks over to a nearby drawer, where she takes out a Glock Gen 5 wrapped in a leather holster. It was the gun she paid the exorbitant price of $20,000 for, a price set as a response to the enormous uptick in demand following the capture of New York City.
She then walks over to a nearby drawer, where she takes out a Glock Gen 5. The black polymer pistol was wrapped in a leather holster. It was the gun she paid the exorbitant price of $20,000 for, a price set as a response to the enormous uptick in demand following the capture of New York City.
Though Claude thought she got ripped off by the seller she bought it from, the woman was wealthy enough to pay the premium. And in a world run among by magic aliens and the uncertain fate of humanity, the price of security skyrockets. Carrol then walks back to Claude and hands him the gun.
"I forgot I put this over there…" She twitches her head in the direction of the wooden drawer she acquired the weapon from.
"I couldn't fit it in my purse. The gun was too big." She then points to the pockets on her shirt as she explains.
"Thank you for reminding me, Claude. I am so sorry. I shouldn't have forgotten..." she starts apologizing to her nephew.
"Hey, don't worry about it, Aunt. I got it now, and that's all that matters."
"You have anywhere to put that?" She asks.
"Yeah, I do…" Claude replies. He lifts up his jacket and tucks the gun behind his belt. He then uses the belt loop to secure it in its place. Claude then lowers his jacket down, concealing the weapon from plain sight.
"Watched a little YouTube while I got dressed. You know, just in case," he tells her.
"Ah, smart," Carrol comments.
"Well, I guess you better get going now…" she states as she holds open the door for him.
"Safe travels, Claude! Don't stay out too late!"
"Goodbye, Aunt. I'll see you later," Claude replies as she steps outside the door. He walks down a little set of stairs and turns left to the driveway. With the press of a button on the key fob, he unlocks his aunt's pristine Lexus TX Hybrid—a rather massive car for a woman who lives alone. Claude hops in the driver's seat, makes a few minor adjustments to maximize his comfort, and drives off to his destination.
As he drove along the linear roads of the Chicago Metropolitan area, carefully following the route Google Maps laid out for him, he encountered numerous obstacles and roadblocks that hindered his journey.
Protesters, both big and small, clogged up the streets and blocked the roads with their bodies in order to voice their discontent and anger to the world. They had strict demands, some reasonable while others more ludicrous, and they won't move until they have been achieved.
Traffic piled up wherever these humanoid roadblocks were set, prompting drivers to take drastic actions to chase away the protesters. Some opted to blare their horns and make the protesters go deaf in retaliation, while others preferred to drive around them.
A deranged few turned to drastic, lethal actions. Some got out of their cars and shot the protesters to death, while others preferred to use their vehicles as a battering ram to clear the people off the road. The National Guard, garrisoned to protect the city from the demons, end up acting as over-glorified policemen, breaking up these protests and arresting any individuals responsible for the murders.
Despite the increased military presence, the streets of the city have turned ever more violent and chaotic. The copious amounts of fear and paranoia have instilled the population with crippling anxiety, and thus they are more willing to resort to violence. Though these incidents were still rare, Claude could see why his mother preferred him to stay at home, where it is safe.
After about a 20-minute drive, circling around any danger and straying through the course, he finally makes it to his destination. He first parks the car in the Costco parking lot and then walks towards the building. As he gets closer to the entrance of the Costco building, Claude spots two buff security guards, armed with rifles and adorned in Kevlar armor. Eventually, one of them spots Claude approaching them and orders him to stop.
"Hey, you there! Stop! You can't go in yet!" He orders as he points his finger towards Claude.
"Why not? Is there a problem?"
"There is a limit to how many people can come in at a time, sir," one of the guards explains.
"The queue just cleared up, so you are going to have to wait here until someone else comes out," the other guard jumps in and finishes.
"How long will that take?"
"A couple of minutes probably. Just be patient," the guard answers.
Although Claude wanted to push back, he didn't want to anger the men in possession with broomsticks bigger than his own. So, he decides to walk away, stand somewhere he can overlook the main entrance without being in their presence, and then wait.
As Claude patiently waited for someone to walk out of that Costco building, his brown eyes fixated on the double glass door, and his ears picked up someone else calling out to him. Although they didn't use his name, the voice described his general attire.
"You there, tall man with the brown jacket!" the rough and deep masculine voice told. Claude turns his head around to see a buff Black man, dripped out in an army uniform and a nice round cap, walking right towards him.
"Me?" Claude asks, pointing towards himself.
"Who else but you, boy? Do you see anyone around this parking lot?" the man inquires. Claude cranks his head left and right and notices that the parking lot was rather empty. Though the spots were all taken by plenty of cars, there was barely any sign of human life at all.
"Do you?" the army man asks again, now standing just 2 feet away from where Claude stood.
"I guess not. What do you want, sir?" Claude replies.
"You've got a funny accent there, mister. Where are you from?" the army man queries.
"I am New York. Came here after those demons took over," Claude replies. Upon hearing this, the man extends out his hand, expecting a handshake.
"Glad to see you were able to make it out," he says.
"What's your name, son?" the army man asks Claude, this time in a more polite and friendly tone. Claude extends his arm and shakes his hand before giving out his name.
"Claude. Claude S. Bowman, sir."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Claude. My name is Doakes. William Henry Doakes. I am a former U.S. Marine, and I am out here looking for people like you," he explains.
"Like me?" Claude questions the man, his left eyebrow raising in tandem.
"Yes. Say, Mr. Bowman. Do you know any relatives trapped behind the Demon Occupation Zone?" The man pops another question. Although he should have realized it before, it is only now that Claude realizes that he was talking to some army recruiter, trying to convince him to join the fight against the demons.