But then Cassandro began spending time with her. As far as anyone could tell (and the other women discussed it often- the paucity of items to gossip about in the tiny community was a crying shame) their relationship was platonic. But Andro ate with her, sat by her after supper, and made sure she had the supplies she needed and keeping her equipment in good repair. For her part, Brianne prepared his meals, cleaned his clothes, and picked up after him around the tunnel. In other words, they tended to one another. They whispered and giggled in the evenings and traded smiles through the day. But no one had ever seen them touch each other in an affectionate way.
Thoughts of Brianne and Andro flew from her mind when two big hands cupped her hips and a pair of lips brushed her ear.
“Evening, darlin’,” Will said in a low, throaty voice, right before he spun her around to face him.
“My Cowboy!” She stretched up on her tippy-toes to plant kisses on both of his cheeks, and they embraced. She looked at his face- his eyes danced and a ghost of a smile played on his lips.
“Take a walk with me?” he asked her.
“Of course. Do I need my coat?”
“No. Let’s go back here,” he took her hand and led her deeper into the tunnel. They only had lights strung above the first twenty yards, so he grabbed a battery-powered lantern on the way.
They walked until they were out of the rest of the group’s hearing range; then he led her behind a pillar, putting them out of sight, too. He held the lantern aloft and stepped closer to her. She thought he would kiss her, but instead he reached into a pocket on his cover-alls, came out with a small box, and handed it to her.
“Merry Christmas,” he said with an impish grin.
“Christmas?”
“Yep. Today is the twenty-fourth of December.”
Her throat tightened up and her vision blurred. “I’m sorry. I… I… guess I lost track of the days.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Everybody lost track, Becks- not just you. There are three people that know what the date is. Everybody else is clueless. We’ve had more important things on our minds.”
“How do you know?”
“A few weeks ago Danny and I were tossing around ideas about planting crops in the spring. We realized we had no idea what day or really even month it was, and we would need to find out if we wanted to start plowing and gathering seed at the right time. We asked a dozen people and nobody else knew, either. I figured Cyrus would keep up with the date so I sent Danny to ask him.”
Becky snickered. “I bet Danny just loved that.”
“Yeah, he bitched for days. Anyway, once I was sure of what day it was I stayed on top of it after that.”
A flash of anger surged through her and she threw a roundhouse punch that hit him in his thick bicep. “You’re a dick!”
“What? What’d I do?” he yelped.
She bit down on her tongue to keep from laughing at the look of utter bewilderment on his face. “You had to be a big shot, that’s what. Be the only person with a Christmas gift.” She motioned toward the others. “Maybe some of them would like to celebrate Christmas, too. I bet David would have liked to get a gift for Kathy.” She threw another punch at his arm but he was ready for her this time and tightened his muscle. It was like punching an oak tree.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her close. “Stop hitting me and listen. I didn’t tell anyone, but it had nothing to do with being a big shot. And you know me better than to think that.” He let go of her arm. “If I wanted to show off why’d I bring you back here where we’re alone to give you your present?”
She smoothed out her shirt sleeve and backed up few steps. She blew a strand of red hair out her face.
“Maybe I should have told everyone. We could have had a big celebration,” he said. “But I decided not to. What do we focus on at Christmas? Family and gifts. There’s not a person out there that hasn’t lost family members. Some of them lost everybody. Things are looking up for the first time in a year and I didn’t want the whole group focusing on that loss. If you tell little Ashley and Meghan that it’s Christmas all they will think about is the family members who aren’t around to celebrate the holiday anymore. We’ll celebrate Christmas next year, but not this one.”
Becky felt like an ass. “I’m sorry. When you said it was Christmas Eve and I realized I don’t have a gift for anyone because I’m not even aware it’s the holiday, I went a little crazy.”
“Yeah, no shit. Are you going to open your present?”
She smiled and examined the package forgotten in her other hand. “You got me a present,” she said in a happy voice. It was wrapped in dark blue paper with a white ribbon and bow. “The wrapping is beautiful- you didn’t wrap this.”
“Nope.”
She opened it and gasped. “Oh, Will,” she breathed.
Inside sat a pair of diamond-chip earrings that looked to be about two karats, set in white gold. The diamonds shined bright and clear in the dim lantern light.
She put them on, tucked her hair back away from her ears and turned her side to Will. “How do they look?”
“They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.” He pulled her to him and kissed her on the nape of her neck. Becky purred, turned her back to him and pressed her body to his. “There’s a story that goes with them,” he whispered in her ear.
“Oh, I’ve got to hear the story.”
“I didn’t break a jewelry store window for those or grab them from some lady’s jewelry box. I bought them last January at Tivol’s in Kansas City. They were your Valentine’s present. When we gave up the ranch I packed them away, and I’ve been carrying them with me ever since. That’s why the wrapping was so pretty- the store did it for me.”
Becky stared at him, speechless. Tears ran down her cheeks. He reached out and wiped one away with his thumb. “Those are worthless, and I don’t want you to wear them.”
She objected but he placed a gentle finger on her lips.
“We could kick the door in at Tiffany’s and walk you out covered in diamonds. Besides, you’d look ridiculous wearing those down here. That present is a promise. My promise to you is I’ll continue to keep you safe and I won’t stop working to get us back to normal. Normal enough that you can wear those and fit right in.”
They hugged for a long time, then he said they’d better head back. She placed the earrings back in the box and slid it into her pocket, and they walked back toward the rest of the group, rubbing shoulders as they walked. She tugged on the back of his shirt to stop him. He turned towards her and she gave him a ‘come here’ gesture with her finger. He bent down close and she whispered in his ear. “This was the best Christmas ever.”
He laughed heartily, and they continued on their way.
Tara
* * *
Tara swallowed the last bit of her bottled nutritional shake, grimacing at the gritty taste. It wasn’t an ideal breakfast, but there were pallets stacked high with cases of the stuff in one of the warehouses and her diet had been so vitamin-poor since the outbreak that she welcomed the blast of nutrients.
She dressed for warmth, with a pair of long-handles first and several layers of sweats on top of them. She awoke at dawn each day without the aid of an alarm- a practice that dated back to her previous life as an entertainment lawyer in Los Angeles. Tiptoeing to the tunnel entrance first thing that morning to check the weather she’d been gratified to see the sun shining and the day breaking bright and crisp. For the past two weeks, angry gray clouds filled the sky and spat snow or a cold drizzle almost every day.
She steeled herself for the job ahead. Asking for Danny’s help was something she hated to do. She would ask and he would hit her with his hundred megawatt smile, his muscles would ripple under his shirt, and he would ‘yes Ma’am’ and ‘no Ma’am’ her. Her knees would turn to jelly and her inner thighs would quiver, and she would hate herself for not being able to control her emotions. One of the great ironies of the past year was t
hat Danny was unaware he had this effect on her. In fact, her carefully constructed persona as the meanest woman in the apocalypse scared the daylights out of him.
She located him just outside the tunnel, stacking and re-stacking modular panels. She pointed at the tunnel. “You’ve been fondling those panels for three days,” she barked by way of greeting, “When are you going to start building rooms in there?”
He blasted his smile at her- teeth perfectly aligned and white, dimple crinkling, eyes radiating warmth. “Tara darlin’. I’m not on the home construction team, so I can’t answer that question.”
“So when you come out here every morning and spend an hour moving them around- that’s just you trying to appear busy?”
“Nah. When you ordered these modules from the manufacturer back in the old days they came stacked with a sheet of particle board in between them. Because if you leave them stacked on top of another the metal on the frame sinks into the nylon wall of the module underneath it, then you tear the shit out of them when you pull them apart. I flip the stacks every morning so that doesn’t happen- we don’t have a lot of them.”
“Oh.” Why was it every time they spoke she said something that ended up making her feel like an insufferable ass? “Well, anyway. I need to talk to you.”
Danny had picked up a module while she spoke; he set it down, brushed the limestone dust off the front of his shirt, and gave her a hangdog look. “What’d I do?”
Tara blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Whenever you say you need to talk you end up yelling at me about something.”
She gaped at him, astonished. “I don’t yell at you every time. Just… when you need it.”
He flashed a quick grin. “I’m honored that sometimes you feel I don’t need to be yelled at.”
His eyes were green, the stormy green of the Atlantic, with a thousand flecks of brown. When he smiled the flecks sparkled, shining with a light that looked like it would warm the skin. Jesus Christ, Woman! She thought. Would you get hold of yourself? She took a deep breath and tried to settle herself. “We need to make a dedicated scavenge run and I want you to lead it.”
Danny groaned. “Tara, that’s so dangerous.“
“I know,” she agreed. A dedicated run is when they went out after a specific item, as opposed to grabbing whatever useful thing they find. In the early days, they’d often had to have dedicated runs for ammunition. When a crew trucked into the Missouri town of Bolivar after antibiotics because little Tempest had nearly died from a flu bug that had been a dedicated run. The danger lied in the number of houses the scavenge crew would have to enter. If the group needed a dozen clips for nine-millimeter pistols, for example, that meant they would enter and search as many houses as it took until they had all twelve clips. They had to clear each house, and you never knew if the next house on the block was devoid of creepers or if thirty of them roamed its floors. It was dangerous, time-consuming, and tiring, and even the best fighters disliked it.
“I know,” Tara repeated. She looked at the ground and then back up at him. “But it’s important.”
“Well, what is it? What are you after?”
She chewed on a cuticle as she tried to come up with a delicate way to answer his question. “Let’s just say that thirty-six women live down here, and they each have needs that only women have.”
Danny gave her a warm smile and put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t say another word,” he said in a soothing voice. “I’m glad you came to me with this, Tara. I’ll help you out.”
Relief washed over her. “Thanks, Danny.”
“Don’t mention it.” He drew a big breath and stuck his chest out. “I’ve gotta say- don’t get me wrong, I’m all man, but tending to the needs of that many women? I won’t be able to service all of them every day. Maybe half one day and half the next? I think I could handle that. And what about the ugly ones? I’m thinking once a week should be fine for them, right?”
Tara fixed him with a cold, dead stare. “I’m serious, you asshole.”
He flashed her that grin again. “Okay. What are we talking about, exactly? I mean, plugs and rags, that’s obvious. What else do you need?”
Tara rolled her eyes at him. “Plugs and rags? You mean tampons and maxi-pads, you misogynist asshole?” She continued without waiting for an answer. “Women’s razors. You guys come back with men’s razors from every house you scavenge; meanwhile, we have about four women’s shavers in the whole place. Women’s deodorant. The men’s causes rashes on some of the girls. Soap, conditioner, shampoo- again, something gentle. It’d be nice to have a few other things- cotton balls, baby powder, Vaseline.”
Danny shook his head and grimaced. “Enough of all that for forty women? We’d have to go into a hundred homes. It would be a flippin’ miracle if we didn’t lose people.”
“You’re right. But what else are we going to do? These girls have to stuff athletic socks in their underwear and put up with four-inch hairs on their pits and legs. All while that dickhead Mark walks around here with fresh-groomed facial hair and brand-new shirts, smelling like someone kicked his narrow ass into a vat of Polo.
“I’m not saying we should look like we’re in the ready room in a high-end bordello, but we’ve got to meet our basic needs.”
Danny cupped one hand over his mouth and looked off into the distance. He tapped his top lip with the first knuckle on his index finger, then snapped his fingers. “I might have something. Let me think on this and get back to you.”
She eyed him with suspicion. “When?”
“A couple of hours. I’ll come find you mid-morning.”
Relieved, Tara let out a huge breath. “Okay. Don’t forget.”
He shot her one more grin, turned, and jogged off into the quarry bottom.
Danny Comes Through
* * *
“Sis!”
Tara jumped and stared at her sister.
“I said your name three times,” Tess said. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Tara said in a clipped voice. She wasn’t fine. She was embarrassed and mad at herself.
They had their rifles and handguns spread across the tailgate of the F-250. She was supposed to be supervising Tess as the younger girl cleaned her weapons before her afternoon shift in one of the towers. Her mind had wandered instead, and she had spent the last few minutes thinking about Danny. About his smile, his broad shoulders, his cocky gait. She replayed mental snapshots of him- Danny last summer, shirtless and wiping the sweat from his brow; his biceps bulging as he toted an armload of firewood last autumn; the way his butt filled out the denim whenever he scavenged a new pair of jeans.
Tess peered at a partially disassembled M4 with a puzzled expression. She gestured toward it and shrugged at Tara. “I’m stuck. The charging handle won’t release. Is it broken?”
Tara examined the gun parts and saw the problem at once. “You have to remove the bolt carrier assembly, Tess. I’ve shown you a hundred times.” Mentally she kicked herself; her words came out much harsher than she’d intended.
Tess regarded her without expression. Then she gave a fake, sour smile and turned to the gun pieces. She corrected her mistaken and resumed stripping it with her back to her sister.
What the hell is wrong with me, Tara thought. I’m out here mooning over a boy and yelling at my sole living relative. She gave her head a brisk shake and vowed not to think about Danny.
She laid a hand on Tess’s forearm. “Hey. I’m sorry. Sorry I was short with you and sorry that my head is elsewhere.”
“Okay.” Tess’s voice bubbled with happiness. “Check these and make sure I did them right.”
She marveled at her sister’s good nature. When Tara was a teen, a stern word from her parents guaranteed at least a thirty-minute cry. It bounced off Tess’s shoulders, though. Good for her.
It was mid-morning, and though it was cold, the sun dazzled in the eastern sky. Mornings were the prettiest time in the quarry bottom. T
he strong morning sun fought back the dreariness of the limestone and its infernal dust. The sun’s rays transformed the dull rusty red and gray arteries that ran through the layers of bedrock that formed the quarry walls, turning them into swirls of ruby and sea foam.
Tara was watching Tess field strip and clean a Beretta when a hand grasped her shoulder from behind. Muscle memory took command. She dropped the shoulder to break the intruder’s grip. Simultaneously, she lifted her opposite elbow and swung it backward in a short, hard arc, twisting her torso to put more power in her swing. She heard the unmistakable crack of bone on bone impact, felt the hand leave her shoulder and sensed her attacker falling down and away from her. She spun her bottom half in the direction her top was already going, pulling her Beretta from the holster in her hip with a smooth, fluid motion.
Tess gave a startled little cry as Tara finished her spin, racking the slide as she moved, and finished in a shooter’s stance with a two-handed grip on her gun. She looked down to view her assailant.
And saw Danny laying flat in the limestone dust, wincing and holding his jaw.
“Danny?” She ran a hand through her hair and squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them it was still Danny laying there.
He pushed himself into a seated position, wearing a stunned expression and rubbing his chin gingerly. “Please God, don’t let Will have seen that,” he mumbled, more to himself than to the girls.
Tara stood, hands on her hips, toes tapping on the quarry floor. She glared at him in silence until he looked up a gave her a morose half-grin, then she softened. She reached one hand out to him, shaking her head in pity and exasperation. “Are you okay?”
Rather than take her hand Danny rolled backward, extended both legs, and leaped to his feet without using his hands.
“I’ll live.” He shot her a grin. “You pack a wallop though, for a little gal. That elbow is a nice move. Did they teach you that in law school?”
Haven: A Novel of the Zombie Apocalypse Page 18