Nodding at Kristie's words, Dinah opts to believe that there is a bastion against the dead somewhere out west... they'd decide, sure.  Leaving it undecided was okay with her.  Having no option to decide upon, on the other hand, would be unbearable.<br/><br/>The Home Depot, dark but for the natural light of skylights and glass doors, is somehow like an abandoned cathedral with Bob Villa as Jesus.  "I'll go for the screws and nails," Dinah offers, but not before combing the check-out lines for flashlights.<i>They always put them here so people think 'hey, I'm already buying this stuff, and I could always use a flashlight'... well, I could REALLY use a flashlight...</i>Dinah pops open the package of a cheap Everready model-- for now, and slings the shotgun to a secure place on her back, favoring her father's pistol for now.<br/><br/><i>Fuck.  There's a memory,</i>she thought, remembering the trips where she'd accompanied him to 84 Lumber, squeezed between her father's pipe-tobacco smelling wool coat, her brother's arm around the back of the seat, and the feeling that nothing at all could hurt her, she was so safe with them...<br/><br/>Pushing it aside, she scans the aisles... logically, the fasteners would all be together, so she'd just have to find their aisle.  She stuffs the airhorn into the outer pocket of her coat, the fit tight, pulling the worn brown leather taut.