Max took a deep breath, counted to ten. “Uh, Fender, there’s a Kmart right across the street. I always thought it was way stupid, but now I’m glad we’ve got too many box stores.â€?

He peered across the street through the drifting smoke. “I think you’re gonna have to drive the truck over there and bust through the doors. I don’t know why, but the idiots locked the doors when they took off. Why lock up before the End of the World?â€?

Fender climbed in, gripped the steering wheel, and gunned the engine. “We. Are. Running. Out. Of. Time.â€? Max slammed the door, and with squealing tires, they headed across the street.

The glass fell with a crash. Max jumped out, picked his way through the bent door frames and glass rubble, and called over his shoulder, “Fine tip or wide tip? Permanent?â€?

Fender, annoyed, put down his skiplight phone. “Black. Just black. Any felt tip will do.â€?

Then he put his thumb on the phone’s scanpad and entered the access code, using a language not usually spoken at Kmart… or on this planet.