Today Allistor planned to make them enough funds to expand their holdings, purchase better weapons, and do whatever else they needed to do to make absolutely certain they thrived on this new world.  The auction on the Mustang was less than an hour from its end, and the high bid was thirty-eight thousand klax.  There were still no other earth cars listed.  He intended to take advantage of that for as long as possible.

Sitting with Sam at breakfast, he said, “How ‘bout we go find your friend’s Corvette?”

Sam nodded, his mouth full of bacon.  He mumbled something unintelligible.

Turning to Michael, he said, “You and Ramon feel up to a road trip?  There was a bench grinder in the hospital maintenance shop that I didn’t have time to unbolt.  Might be some other useful items as well.  But more importantly, I’d like you to check out the winery.  If you can, bring back a truckload of their best wine.   Each bottle might sell for as much as we paid for each of these rings.  We’ll list a couple of cases first.  If they become popular, we’ll restrict the sale to single bottles, and charge more!” He grinned at them.

“Right.  Crafty stuff, then drunky stuff.  Got it!” Ramon agreed.   He stepped into the crafting hall where they’d stored all their tools and materials.  A few minutes later he returned with a tool bag and two radios.  He handed one radio to Sam.  “The winery is ten miles out, but these radios are supposed to be able to cover the whole county.  We can test that out today.”

Sam said, “If you get the chance to grab one of their box trucks, do it.  Load it up and bring it back.  The keys should be somewhere in the office.  If not a truck, any usable vehicle would be good.”

Both trucks set off, Lilly waving at them as she waited to close the gates behind them.  Allistor let Sam drive, since he knew where Frank’s house was.  It only took a few minutes to reach the place once they got out of the debris-strewn streets of town.  Both men were glad to see the house and separate three-car garage were intact.

Sam pulled up the long driveway and got out of the truck.  Rifle in hand, he waited for Allistor to join him.  The two approached the front door.  It was standing slightly ajar, which wasn’t a good sign.   Allistor went through the door first, his shotgun a more effective short-range weapon than Sam’s rifle.

The inside of the house was a mess.  Not total chaos like the cafeteria had been, but the sofa was shredded, a china cabinet knocked over, and the dishes broken.  They found what they assumed was all that was left of Frank – a large splattering of blood on the kitchen floor and cabinets.  An S&W .45 lay on the floor nearby, locked open.  Frank had managed to empty the magazine before he died.  There were canid prints in the blood leading out the back door.   Allistor closed the door and locked it, then did the same at the front door.  The two men cleared the house, checking the basement and upper floors.  When they were sure it was all clear, Sam went right to a cabinet next to the fridge.  He grabbed a key ring and looked at Allistor.  “The garage.”