Quake Scavengers : Aftermath: Homeless people have taken over apartments abandoned after the temblor, stripping and selling whatever was left behind.

John Alvarez lives in what might charitably be called a mixed neighborhood.

The heroin addicts keep to the quake-damaged apartments near the flood control channel. The hookers and crack dealers work the cul-du-sac across the street. Gang members drop by occasionally to drink some beer, bust a few windows and leave some more scrawl.

And the homeless find a quiet corner.

There is a definite hierarchy among those living in the string of abandoned apartment buildings in Sylmar.

Alvarez considers himself near the top of the heap. After all, he is working for his food and cigarette money--by scavenging.

“I can get $5 for these,” he said, pointing to a set of window blinds, as he and two companions took a break Wednesday from carting off furniture, appliances and anything else of value.

For the last two months he and dozens of others have been squatting in 11 or so neighborhood apartment buildings that were abandoned by residents after the Jan. 17 earthquake.

The area is what Los Angeles officials call a new breed of “ghost town,” a cluster of empty quake-ravaged buildings. On Wednesday, they identified 10 such spots throughout the city in Sylmar, Northridge, Canoga Park, Sherman Oaks and Hollywood.

With neighbors and police complaining of rising crime rates nearby, city officials said Wednesday that they will use $20 million in discretionary funds provided by the Department of Housing and Urban Development for fences and other security measures, perhaps guards, to seal off the abandoned buildings.

Officials said even that might not be enough and that they will press for additional federal money, although the Federal Emergency Management Agency has so far turned down requests for more funds, saying it is a local problem.

Property owners in the Sylmar neighborhood where Alvarez scavenges say they don’t have the money to fix up their property or, in some cases, even put up fencing.

Even the city’s signs ordering people away have long been torn down.

Not that the warnings are really necessary. Huge cracks run across entire walls, overhangs pitch forward as if they are about to fall and there is broken glass everywhere. Most front doors are open or torn from their hinges. And inside, carpets have been ripped from the floors.

All that remains in many apartments are broken furniture, flies, paper trash, beer bottles, animal droppings and rotting food. In their haste to remove their possessions in the days after the earthquake, many residents left only scraps of their lives: a kindergarten report card, a brown teddy bear, empty prescription bottles, personal letters, a pair of shoes.

There is no running water now, in most cases, no electricity. Yet even the dreary, dangerous conditions fail to discourage those seeking free shelter.

Those living here say as many as 50 people have passed through the buildings in the past three months.

Alvarez, dressed in shirt, pants and shoes found in one of the apartments, said he lost his own apartment during the quake and has been unable to find any construction work since then. So he has been moving from damaged apartment to apartment, bunking in “whichever one is the cleanest.”

His companion, Jess Torres--another unemployed laborer--holds up a clock radio he found and hopes to sell for $5. “This is lunch, a hamburger and a soft drink,” he said.

The two men were piling the stuff into the back of Terry Bratton’s pickup. Bratton has a home but said he is trying to keep a family afloat on disability payments. So he needs the extra income.

“I’m just scavenging what I can,” the Sylmar resident said. “We had someone who wanted a dresser, but we haven’t been able to find one.”

Most of the first floor air-conditioning units are gone from the apartments located on the 14600 block of Hubbard Street. They were sold for $10 each, the same rate paid for refrigerators and washing machines, the men said.

A spokesman for the city attorney’s office said the men have no right to take the property, even if it is abandoned. As a practical matter, however, they will not be prosecuted for the petty thefts, a misdemeanor, unless the owner of the property reports it stolen, spokesman Ted Goldstein said.

And even if that happens, Alvarez and Torres wonder what they could do to two homeless men: Put them in jail, give them a few free meals and a chance to shower.

The police occasionally conduct sweeps at the apartments, but they generally arrest only those with outstanding warrants or those who possess drugs, the men said.

Oscar Marquez, one of the building owners, said he has the same troubles as the scavengers, “financing.” That is why there is no fence and no guards.

Marquez said he asked the Small Business Administration for a loan of $400,000 to pay for $157,000 in needed repairs and to pay off loans on the building.

Unless he gets the money, he said, he cannot afford the repairs.

“Nobody is helping us yet, and we are broke,” he said.

Victory Nuguid, who manages six vacant buildings on Hubbard Street that are owned by his father, said he has tried unsuccessfully to board them up. “They are tearing down the boards,” he said. “It’s getting ridiculous.”

Times staff writer Hugo Martin contributed to this story.