by Urban, Tony
“There’s fucking cannibals somewhere out there and you want to look at old clothes? Sometimes I think you left your brain back at the trading post. If you ever had one.”
Wyatt could tell by the look on Allie’s face that she was on the verge of tears. Only her pride kept her from crying.
“This town is as good a place as any to sleep. Maybe better seeing as how it’s out of the way enough to be in near pristine condition.” Wyatt looked to Pete. “Besides, you don’t get many opportunities to stand around and be bored while you watch your girlfriend shop these days. Think of it like nostalgia.”
Allie looked over Pete’s shoulder and smiled at Wyatt. For about the thousandth time on their journey, he wondered why she was with an asshole like Pete.
Pete dropped Allie’s hand and waved to Wyatt. “She’s all yours, kid. Go find a purse for her to carry your balls.”
Wyatt ignored the putdown and strode past Pete. He extended his elbow and Allie took it as the two continued into the store.
The lock on the door was broken, but the hinges groaned in protest as Wyatt opened it. It had been closed for a long while. Supper followed them inside and Wyatt grinned as the dog passed under a sign that read, Service animals only. Pets not allowed!
“Look at all this.” Allie glanced around the building in awe.
Wyatt was less impressed. There were tons of clothes, but it looked like the kind of stuff they wore on black-and-white TV show reruns. The kind of outfits that would have been tossed in the dumpster at Goodwill.
“I never knew there was a market for antique clothes,” Wyatt said.
“Vintage.”
“What?”
“You called them antiques. Clothes like these are vintage. There’s a difference,” Allie said as she fingered through the items on the racks.
“My mistake. Guess I missed out on the wild and crazy vintage clothes shopping part of my life.”
Allie looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. “I imagine you missed out on a lot of things.”
Wyatt shrugged. “No big deal.”
“Maybe. But there’s some big milestones around your age.”
Wyatt felt his cheeks flush and turned away from her, both in the hope she didn’t notice and also to try to change the subject. “Well then, teach me about vintage clothing. What am I missing?”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him close to her. He felt his heartbeat quicken and hoped his palms weren’t sweating.
“Okay, look at this.” Allie pulled a pink dress with a floral print off a rack.
“An old dress? What makes it special?”
Allison laughed. “No, not a dress. It’s a housecoat.”
Wyatt had no idea what she was talking about and she obviously saw it on his face.
“A woman would wear it around the house while she cleaned, made dinner, watched her soaps.”
“Sounds a little sexist to me. I mean, they didn’t have a special outfit for men to do that stuff did they?”
She smirked. “That’s because men didn’t help around the house then. Or now, for that matter.”
He held his free hand over his heart, mocking offense. “Hey, I’ll have you know I vacuumed the floor twice a week.”
She clapped in slow, silent applause. “And I bet your mom put a gold star sticker on the chore chart for that too.”
Wyatt knew she was only teasing him but he didn’t want to be made to feel like a boy. Not around her.
“What would one of these vintage housecoats cost, anyway?”
Allie held up the price tag and turned it his way. His eyes grew wide.
“Eighty dollars? That’s crazy. I’d do my housework in my pajamas.”
“It’s not cheap, but they don’t make these anymore. They’re like, a piece of history.”
“So… like an antique. You really need to get your story straight.”
For some reason, that joke hit home and Allie dissolved into the kind of uncontrollable laughter that physically hurts. Seeing her in such a predicament made Wyatt join in.
“Hope I’m not breaking up the moment here,” Pete said from the entrance.
As Pete stepped inside Allie took a few steps away from Wyatt and their laughter slowed to a halt.
“I never knew ugly, old clothes were so funny. Unless it’s something else.” He stared down Wyatt. “You putting the move on my girl, kid?”
Wyatt took another sidestep away from her. “No, Pete. We were… We were just--”
Now Pete laughed, but it was a sharp, cold sound. “Don’t waste a good lie on this. I’m only fucking with you.” He gave Wyatt a playful, but hard, punch in the shoulder. “It’s not like you’re a threat. Right? Kid?”
Wyatt tried to meet his gaze but failed. “Yeah, well, it’s probably time for breakfast.”
“Time for breakfast?” Pete mocked him in a falsetto that sounded nothing like Wyatt’s own voice. “Don’t up and change your plans on my account. Go back to your fun. I’ll chaperone, just to make sure you don’t get in over your head.”
“Pete, it was nothing. Stop.”
“No, no. I mean it. You should probably take it easy on the kid though. I mean, how old are you again, Wyatt?”
“Eighteen.” Wyatt didn’t appreciate being talked down too, especially from a piece of shit like Pete.
“Wow, so you were like thirteen when it all went down? Still a babe. Bet you didn’t even have hair on your pubes yet, let alone know how to use ‘em.”
Wyatt didn’t respond. He only stood there, taking the lashes from Pete.
“I mean, and this is just between the three of us, you ever get your dick wet? You can be honest, we won’t tell your momma.”
“That’s enough, Pete,” Allie said, moving to him. She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him toward the entrance, but Pete planted his feet.
“Why the hurry? I’m just getting to know the boy.“ Pete looked back to Wyatt. “You must love having Allie around though. Bet she gives you some juicy material for the spank bank.”
He mimed jerking off and that was enough for Wyatt. He pushed by Pete, who was smiling ear to ear, and left the store.
“Don’t forget your mutt,” Pete said. But he didn’t have to. Supper was already on his way.
Chapter Forty-Two
Wyatt booted a rock as hard as he could. It bounced and skidded along the street before colliding with a wooden post at the far end of town.
He hadn’t noticed it upon their arrival and decided to investigate, taking advantage of whatever he could find to get his mind off of Pete’s antagonism.
Something was perched atop the post and, when he came within five yards, he realized it was a skeleton. It was far from the first he’d seen and, by this point, the novelty had worn off. Only this one had been posed with its right arm pointing east.
“Well that’s weird,” he said to himself. Or so he thought.
“That is something, ain’t it,” River said.
Wyatt flinched and turned. The man was within touching distance. “Shit dude, where the hell did you come from?” He grabbed at his chest, trying to calm his frayed nerves.
River smiled wide. “My friends always say I’m light on my feet. Guess they’re correct.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Wyatt looked up the street and saw his mother and Trooper pushing Seth lazily as they tried to find the best building in which to bed down for the day. Wyatt waved his arms like an air traffic controller until he got their attention. Then he motioned for them to come to him.
Unfortunately, Pete saw his gesticulations too and he and Allie headed his direction.
River leaned into the skeleton and sniffed it. Wyatt tried to remind himself that this odd man was occasionally helpful, or so he said, but he had his doubts. Then River tapped the skeleton’s pelvis. “This was a lady. You can tell by the hips. Bigger for birthing.”
Wyatt didn’t ask why that mattered and remained silent until the others arrived.
“What’s going o
n?” Trooper asked.
“This is a portent,” River said. “Means things are going to get worse.”
“Is that even possible?” Pete asked.
“It sure is. It sure is. This girl’s telling us that there’s danger ahead. More cannibals. You know what I mean?”
“Then where the fuck are we supposed to go?” Pete asked. “Allie was such a dumbass, making me come with you retards.”
Up until now, he’d only been a whiny presence, a mosquito buzzing in their ears and voicing his dissatisfaction with being there. Now though, he had everyone’s attention.
“Son,” Trooper said. “If you don’t like it, turn yourself around and start walking. No one asked you along.”
“Yeah, now that you drug us two thousand miles into the middle of bumfuck nowhere. With man-eating cannibals thrown in for good measure.” He stepped into Trooper’s personal space. “Maybe no one else has the balls to say it but this plan of yours, marching down to South America, is stupid. There’s no happily ever after down there. It’s just more of the same shit only warmer.”
River nodded his head in agreement. “He ain’t wrong you know.”
“You’re not helping, River,” Seth said.
“Never said I was,” River said.
Wyatt could feel the tension boiling and as much as he could use a good fight to blow off steam, he knew it was the last thing the group needed.
“River,” Wyatt said, his voice commanding. The man and everyone else looked to him. “Is there a way to get to the border that isn’t as dangerous?”
“Me thinks so,” River said.
“Wonderful. And which way is that?”
River studied the skeleton-like he was an archeologist reading hieroglyphics. He licked his finger, dragged it across the skeleton’s pointing arm, then stuck that finger into his mouth and closed his eyes.
“For fucks sake,” Seth said.
Wyatt regretted asking the man, the obviously crazy man, for assistance. For putting any semblance of trust in him.
River’s eyes popped open. “That way,” River said, pointing in the opposite direction of the skeleton.
“Oh, there’s a surprise,” Seth said.
“River knows his cannibals and River never lets his friends down.”
“Aren’t all your friends dead?” Seth asked.
River cocked his head. “Perhaps. That is a possibility.”
“Fuck it.” Pete spun on his heels and grabbed Allie’s hand, pulling her back toward town. “We’re getting some sleep. Wake us when it’s our turn for watch.”
“You know, I think I liked it better when he was just bitching about things,” Seth said.
Wyatt agreed.
Chapter Forty-Three
“Do you think I made a mistake?” Barbara watched Trooper who was busying himself with cleaning his .44s.
He glanced her way. “I’m afraid you’ll need to be a tad more specific.”
“Leaving home. Heading south. Thinking I knew what the hell I was doing. Eating half a can of refried beans that expired eight years ago. Take your pick.”
Trooper set the gun he’d been working on aside. “Well, yes to the last one. I told you to throw them out.”
She worked up a half-smile, an accomplishment considering how defeated she felt. “You did. And you were right.”
“As for the rest of it… Hell, Barb, it’s still too early to tell.”
She knew pressing the matter would solve nothing, but she wanted, needed, to talk and Trooper was her partner on watch which made him a captive audience. “What if we get all the way to the equator and find out it’s just as bad? Will you tell me then that I was wrong?”
He considered it. “Ayuh. But, and this stays between you and me, I haven’t felt this alive since I was on the force. This trip of yours, it might be a toll physically but sitting around the house day in day out, each one the same as the last, that wears a man down mentally. If given the choice between the two, I’d rather my body be tired than my mind.”
“Do you really mean that or are you placating me?”
He smirked. “Little of both.”
She supposed that was fair.
It was near dark and would soon be time to wake the boys. Pete and Allie had taken the previous shift, but rather than going back to sleep, they headed outside and bickered like an old married couple. That had been going on for almost two hours and showed no signs of slowing down.
Barbara watched them through the window. Allie sat on a porch swing, drifting lazily back and forth while Pete paced.
“Those two still at it?” Trooper asked.
“Yeah. It’s getting tiresome.”
“Stress brings out the worst in folks.”
Barbara knew that was true, but also wondered how much good there was in either of them. Pete was more petulant than her teenage sons but twice their age. And Allie, she acted sweet as custard, but the more the woman was around Wyatt, the less Barbara trusted her.
Maybe it took another woman to see it, but Allie was playing Pete and Wyatt against each other. It might not even be intentional, but it was happening. And Barb wished, when they’d told them they could turn around and walk away, the couple would have done just that. Sadly, they seemed to be stuck with them and she could only hope things didn’t go bad.
Barb watched Pete grab Allie’s arm and the woman jerk it free. She shoved her finger in his face and blathered on about something. Barbara couldn’t quite make out the words, but she knew the motions. She’d been married, after all.
In hers, no fists were thrown, but words were sometimes worse. In the end, they always made up, but she knew that was the exception to the rule. And she liked to believe she and her husband were better than Pete and Allie.
She turned her attention from the fighting couple to her sons sleeping on the dusty floor. Wyatt’s arm was draped over Supper while Seth was sprawled on his back, mouth agape. She knew Wyatt was falling for the woman and that scared her almost as much as the cannibals.
Most boys - men - his age had experienced heartbreak repeatedly, but Wyatt’s emotional growth had been stunted when the attacks happened. He might be eighteen in years but his heart was still that of a thirteen-year-old boy.
Please God, she thought, he’s got enough shit to deal with. Don’t pile on more.
Outside she heard a raised voice. “Fuck you then!” It was Pete and she watched him storm away from Allie, passing by the doorway to the building in which they’d made camp.
“I need some space,” he said to Trooper who sat near the entrance as he stomped by. “I won’t wander far.”
Trooper nodded. “No hurry.”
Barbara watched Allison wipe her face. After a moment she slipped off the swing and came into the building wearing a fake smile, but her red and swollen eyes still betrayed her.
“Can I help make breakfast?” She asked Barb.
“Of course.”
Barbara rose from her seat and grabbed some supplies from their stash. She handed them to Allie without a word and began to rekindle the fire.
The woman cocked her head to the side. “Everything alright, Barbara?”
“I was gonna ask you the same thing.”
Allie waved her hand, dismissive. “Don’t worry about me and Pete. Everything’s okay.”
“I’m sure it will be. But I’m not worried about your lover’s quarrel. I’m worried about Wyatt and where he fits into the mix.”
Allie dropped her smile. “That’s nothing. We’re friends is all.”
“Does Wyatt know that? Because he follows you around like a stray cat follows a fisherman and you lap up that attention. Especially when you and Pete are on the outs and you want to make him jealous.”
“I didn’t mean to--”
“You never mean to. But you do.” Barb glanced at Wyatt to ensure he was still sleeping. He was. “He’s my son. And it’s my job to look out for him. You understand?”
Allie let out a soft laugh. “I get
it. And don’t worry. I’m not using him to make anyone anything. I like Wyatt. And he’s your son, but he’s also a man and I’m pretty sure he can make his own decisions.”
Allie opened a can of peaches and poured them into a pan. After adding some cinnamon she tore open three sugar packets and dumped that into the mix, then set the pan over the fire. The aroma started Barbara’s stomach rumbling.
She knew Allie was right about one thing. Wyatt was old enough to make his own decisions. But he didn’t always make the best ones. And she had the scars to prove it.
Chapter Forty-Four
Another week of night walks and day rests saw them make considerable progress and stay safe. A win-win as far as Wyatt was concerned.
After finishing a dinner which consisted of rehydrated beef stroganoff, part of a cache of C-rations they discovered inside an abandoned root cellar, Wyatt was eager to get on the road. However, some of the others were busy savoring one of their few meals which didn’t come from a can.
Seth was less than halfway through his meal when he decided to waste more time teasing his brother. “Why such a hurry, Casanova?”
Wyatt couldn’t think of a good comeback, and honestly, he wasn’t sure it was much of an insult. It made him smile.
“No reason. Just like making good time.”
Seth took a bite of food and chewed ever so slow. “Ever hear the saying, stop and smell the roses? You should try that sometime.”
“I don’t see any roses. Just your ugly face,” Wyatt said. “Thank God I already ate or it would have cost me my appetite.”
Seth rolled his eyes. “Probably just as well. If there were any roses, I wouldn’t be able to smell them over your stanky ass, anyway.”
Wyatt wondered if it was just another dig or if there was some truth to it. He tried to discreetly sniff his armpit and recoiled. He was a little ripe but didn’t want to let on that Seth was right. “Where’s Supper?”
Seth motioned outside the building in which they’d spent the night. “Wandered outside a few minutes ago. I figured he needed to unload some timber.”