Jack nodded as he slung his sack carelessly to the table.
'The third this week then,' Gina said, making her way over to measure the success of Jack's foraging. 'Not much here, Jack. You'll need to do better tomorrow if I'm to keep shelteri(more)ng you.'
Jack nodded again and took the sack from Gina's hands, retreating to a back room with his spoils.
Gina sighed. It wasn't that she wanted to be short with the simpleton, but she could only put up those who could pull their weight. She'd known from the day the riots started that life as she knew it was to change. Others had insisted it was temporary restlessness, but they were the ones stung by the lack of supplies in the supermarkets when they realised the problems weren't going away. Gina's larder had been full to the brim of canned goods and other imperishable supplies.
The supply was running low now and the vigilante bands patrolling the streets for the safety of the populace were a danger to a lone woman. So Gina had opened her door to a few comrades who could hunt supplies in return for shelter.
'Open up,' a raised voice on the other side of the door accompanied a banging that rattled the wood in its frame.
Gina's fumbling hands found her emergency bag and within moments her feet carried her to the back route out of the safe house.