Harem Legion: Queens of the Apocalypse-Chapter 20 Loot, Laugh, and Lipstick

There weren’t many infected left on the first floor of the Walmart - no more than two hundred. Magnus led his fifty-woman squad and wiped them out in under fifteen minutes, cobweb cleanup included.

After that, Magnus glanced around. This floor was stocked with household goods, bedding, and intimate wear. The shelves were a bit messy, sure, but most of the stuff was intact - barely any serious damage.

All fifty women stared at him, eyes bright, waiting. Magnus checked the countdown on his phone, raised his head and smiled. "You’ve got 30 minutes. Go wild."

"Yes!"

"Finally!"

"Magnus, you’re the best!"

They’d been holding back for too long. In a way, this was one of the rare perks of the apocalypse - loot without price tags.

The women scattered through the aisles like birds set loose. Their excited chatter echoed nonstop in the store.

"Holy shit! This pajama set’s worth over 500 dollars! Free now - mine!"

"Hey, come look at this comforter! It costs over two grand! Grab it before it’s gone!"

"Wait, seriously? More bras? What, you building a fortress out of cup padding now?"

"Shut up, dumbass. What do you expect me to wear on my period - hope and duct tape? Or do you think I’ve already hit menopause?"

"Please. I’m still planning to pop out Magnus’s baby someday..."

"You? With those sad little pancakes? That baby would starve before the third diaper change. Me? I could feed a whole damn litter."

Laughter burst out. No filter, no shame - just raw, wild relief.

Thirty minutes passed fast. When Magnus raised his head again - after two cigarettes and a bit of thinking - he was genuinely stunned. He’d underestimated how terrifying women could be when shopping for free.

The entire first floor of Walmart was damn near ransacked.

Back at the front entrance, Magnus had Megan’s team rotated out for another squad to guard the door. Then the rest of the unit pushed into the basement level.

That floor sold fresh produce, snacks, condiments, cooking oil, and high-end liquors. Spirits high, the women cleared the infected in less than twenty minutes.

Magnus gave another thirty-minute looting window, and boom - they went at it like wolves tearing through meat again.

Unfortunately, the fruits and veggies were mostly spoiled. But that level held the real treasures: chips, jerky, chocolate, canned meats, drinks, booze - basically all their favorite snacks.

Finally, they reached the second floor. Magnus hesitated for a second before deciding to head up. That level had electronics, small furniture, cosmetics, books, and outdoor gear.

Even in the apocalypse, you needed ways to keep your mind steady. Books, MP3s, MP5s - they helped. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Charging gear wasn’t a problem either. The women quickly found solar-charging packs. They also scooped up outdoor tools - flashlights, hiking coats, folding shovels, thermoses, alcohol stoves - all solid finds. As for the cosmetics, Magnus had tried stopping the madness more than once. But every time he did, those women would pull out the same pitiful excuse - "This is for the sisters who couldn’t come. If we got things and they didn’t, they’d think you’re playing favorites or that there’s something going on between us."

Magnus would open his mouth, ready to argue, but nothing ever came out. In the end, he could only let them go wild with their looting.

Just like when they arrived, they laid down a fire path with gas barrels. The women were thrilled, turning the massive Walmart into their private trove. They practically emptied the place, filling up three and a half cargo trucks. Took ’em nearly two hours.

One or two more of these big supermarkets, and he’d call it. Can’t let them waste all their time shopping.

Magnus made a silent decision - stick to smaller markets from here on. Food comes first.

*****

On the other side of Springvale City, inside the Unity Medical Supply store -

"I’m begging you, please! Just let me have the insulin... My daughter, she’s only six. She has type one diabetes. Without insulin, she’s gonna die. She’ll die..."

A young mother in her late twenties knelt on the cold floor, holding a frail little girl tightly in her arms. The girl had two tiny pigtails tied with cartoon bands shaped like lambs.

The little one, Daisy, looked up weakly, her lips dried and pale. She whispered, "Mama, don’t cry. I don’t want you to be sad. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Really, it doesn’t hurt..."

All around them stood seven punks, not older than eighteen or so, their hair dyed all sorts of colors, earrings glinting off their dirty faces.

At the center of them stood a smug blond-haired youth, chewing gum with a box of insulin twirling between his fingers.

He smirked and said with mocking cheer, "Come on, lady. This ain’t your private pharmacy. You can’t just walk in and claim stuff. What, you thinking of robbing us now?"

"I can pay!" the woman blurted, only to freeze - money these days was worthless. She quickly added, "Anything you want, please, I’m begging you! My little Daisy’s dad died trying to get us here. He was eaten by those monsters... Please, help us. Take pity on her. She’s only six. Please, please..."

The blond let out a creepy laugh. His gang joined in, snickering like vultures.

Then, the blond’s face went dark. He turned to his buddies and barked, "You hear that? Get a load of this lady! All for a damn box of meds, she’s ready to ’entertain’ all seven of us. Now that’s commitment! Look at that spine. That grace."

For a heartbeat, the punks hesitated - then burst into laughter again, louder and nastier.

The woman’s face turned red, her eyes blazing with rage, but not a single harsh word escaped her lips. Slowly, her expression dulled, and her voice dropped to a murmur.

"So long as you hand me the meds... I... I’ll do whatever you want..."