Seasons of Man | Book 2 | Reap What You Sow

by Anderson, S. M.

“Will,” the young lady almost growled at him.

  He nodded. “I have some aspirin.” He didn’t have time to deal with whatever they had going on. He’d made the offer that would help them. It was up to them to take advantage of it or not.

  “There’s a first-aid kit under that packing blanket.” He pointed into the back of his vehicle with the muzzle of the gun. “Take it, it’s yours.”

  “You’re really gonna let us go?” Will seemed incredulous enough that it left no doubt how this would have gone down had the situation been reversed.

  “Take it,” he repeated. “And start walking that way.” He pointed with his chin back up the road from where he’d come. “You can come back for your weapons and the bike after I’m gone. You follow me again; I will kill you.”

  “What about me?” The girl had a set of shrill pipes on her that set him on edge.

  “That’s up to your friend here. You’re going to sit right there until he gets back.”

  Will lifted the first-aid kit a few inches. “Thank you.”

  “Get going.”

  He waited until Will had passed the motorcycle and its occupant. “You two, and whoever you have in your group, should really come into Tysons. We have a doctor.”

  He saw the woman’s head snap up at that news. “You’re lying.”

  “We could help you, but I meant what I said. If I see either of you tonight, you’re both dead.”

  He took his time getting situated and the NODs readjusted over his eyes. As he put the beast in gear, he glanced at the analog clock on the dashboard. He’d wasted more than an hour dicking around with the two bandits, who, if he was any judge of human nature, had a baby or a child out there somewhere.

  The thought dredged up memories of how close he had come to being a father. Sam had been so excited, while he’d just been terrified. It had been all for naught. Sam’s dreams had been stolen, and terror didn’t begin to describe what had happened to the world. He glanced at the clock on the dash; it was nearly four a.m., and sunrise wasn’t that far off. He’d already decided to push through. Pre-suck, this drive from Leesburg to Tysons would have taken him an hour with traffic and the never-ending construction along Route 7. Now it was just abandoned cars he had to dodge, and of course the occasional deer that would stand in the middle of the highway. Some things hadn’t changed.

  He wasn’t headed to the mall; he wanted to talk to Rachel and apologize if she’d let him. He parked the beast in its customary spot behind the burned-out shell of a house at the edge of his neighborhood and walked the rest of the way. It felt good to stretch his legs, and he almost skipped up the driveway to the house, hoping Rachel would wake before Elsa. He wasn’t worried about Pro; the kid never woke until someone did it for him.

  The first indication that something was off was Loki. No Loki, to be more accurate. Everyone spent a lot of time in and around Tysons these days, so he didn’t make much of it, and assumed Reed must have taken the dog with him. Given the early-morning hour of his arrival, he’d expected the house to be quiet, but it felt empty. There was a note on the kitchen island. He read it slowly, struggling to remain calm. He was moving out the back door before the note touched the floor.

  He pulled up to the front of the hotel and hopped out just as Daniel and Michelle emerged from the lobby. He’d had to radio in before passing through the roadblock they’d set up. They’d known he was on his way in.

  “He’s going to be fine.” Daniel jumped in front of him. “He’s recovering.”

  While relieved, Jason was torn between wanting to learn more and the desire to move Daniel out of the way.

  “He was shot once in the collarbone. Doc Adams says he’ll make a full recovery.”

  “What happened?”

  Michelle related what had happened, pausing at the end. “If you want to be mad at somebody, be mad at me. I sent him out there.”

  “Alone?”

  Michelle just glared at him with her arms crossed in front of her chest. “I’ve been trying to get Rachel to quit blaming herself for not being there. Don’t you dare pile on that, damn you. You’re the one who left.”

  He didn’t need Michelle to tell him it wouldn’t have happened had he been here. “Where is he?”

  “He’s asleep in your old room.” Michelle stuck a finger in his face. “Rachel is with him. Let them sleep.”

  “You look like you could do with some sleep yourself,” Daniel said, trying to break off Michelle’s attack dog routine that only managed to piss him off even more.

  He was exhausted; he could feel it in his bones. “Tell me about this group, the one who had the radio.”

  This time, it was Daniel who filled him in. He started with an explanation that the guilty party was under guard in one of the top-floor suites. Good, he thought. There was a discussion he wanted to have with the man who’d shot Pro. Daniel went on, detailing his questioning of this Ray character. Between exhaustion and wondering what the hell he was going to say to Rachel, it probably wasn’t the best time to be debriefed.

  “Wait!” He grabbed Daniel’s arm. “Say that again.”

  “Which part?”

  “The dead guy, the veterinarian . . . What’d he say?”

  “New Republic?” Daniel repeated the words that sent a chill through his bones. “This Ray character thinks it’s related to whatever Carla and the dead vet were hiding.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “Wait a sec!” Michelle stuck her face in his. “You’ve heard it before, haven’t you?”

  It took every bit of control he could muster. He reached out, gripped Michelle tightly by each shoulder, and pushed her gently back half a step. Something in his face must have said what he managed to keep under wraps. She shut up and nodded to herself.

  “What is it?” Daniel asked.

  “A big-ass group,” he almost whispered to himself. The images of the UVA campus and what he’d seen through the Shenandoah Valley drove him to one conclusion. The New Republic was sending out scouting parties, and Daniel had one of them locked up. “We aren’t safe here.”

  “We aren’t safe anywhere,” Michelle agreed.

  “I need to talk to this Ray character.”

  Michelle held both hands out slowly. “Jason, they aren’t going anywhere. You need to get a few hours’ sleep and then talk to Rachel.” Michelle shook her head at him. “End it or don’t, Jason. But, for that woman’s sake, have the balls to put a label on it. She deserves to know one way or another.” Michelle squeezed his shoulder gently and walked back into the hotel lobby, leaving him and Daniel staring after her.

  Daniel let out a long breath. “So, there’s that . . .”

  “Good to see Michelle hasn’t changed.”

  “Nope.” Daniel gave his head a single shake. “She’s still always right.”

  “I suppose she is,” he admitted. “I’m going to catch a few winks until Pro and Rachel are awake. Can you pull the team together by this afternoon? We need to figure out what the hell we are going to do.”

  “Can I make a suggestion?”

  “Don’t start, Daniel. I have no idea what I’m going to say to her.”

  “I wouldn’t presume.” Daniel was smiling. “I was going to say, a shower and shave wouldn’t hurt. You look like shit.”

  Chapter 11

  Jason opened the hotel room door as quietly as he could and eased it shut once he was in the room. They were both still asleep. Pro in bed on his back with his right arm immobilized against his torso. Rachel had pushed two cushioned chairs together and was curled up within the small bowl they created. There was a pile of books on the table between them that made him smile. Putting Pro in what passed for their hospital was probably anyone’s best bet to get the kid to study. He could picture Rachel torturing him with schoolwork during the day.

  He crept around the edge of the bed to where he could look down at her. Kneeling at her side, he saw the peace that only sleep could bring. Rachel pulled at a part of him that he
had begun to doubt he still had. He was past that now; he wanted nothing more than to get her out of here and take her someplace safe. As terrified as he was of letting himself care for someone that deeply ever again, or of letting Rachel do the same with regard to him, he knew they’d both passed that unspoken point. And he’d been too scared to admit it. She had every reason to be pissed.

  He turned to look back at Pro. In his heart, he and Elsa were as much family as Rachel was. They weren’t just his wards; they needed a parent’s love as much as he needed them.

  He turned his head back down to Rachel as he heard her stir under her blanket and ended up looking into the muzzle of the 1911 model .45 he’d given her.

  “You came back,” she whispered after her brown eyes swallowed him up. She let the gun drop to the side and offered the slightest of smiles.

  “I came back.” He nodded once, trying to make it sound like an apology.

  Rachel strained to lift her head and look over towards Pro.

  “He’s asleep,” he whispered, catching her face between his hands and kissing her much more deeply than he had intended. He laid her head back down as she just looked at him with what could have been suspicion.

  “Rachel . . . I don’t know how to—”

  She stopped him with a finger across his lips. “I love you, Jason, and I’m pretty sure you feel the same way. But I’m not your charity case. I can’t be. You have to understand that.”

  “I do.” He nodded. “I love you too. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck with me.” He gave her his best smile. “The world has sort of curtailed your options, don’t you think?”

  “You’re my world, Jason.”

  “And you’re mine. That’s what scares me.”

  She laid a hand alongside his face. “I think it’s supposed to.”

  They kissed again; Rachel came out of the chair and fell halfway into his arms, and they just held each other tightly. He felt like his heart was going to explode.

  Quiet laughter from the bed behind them broke the embrace.

  “It’s about time.” Pro’s ensuing laughter was all they needed until they both joined in. Jason realized he had a tear rolling his cheek. Rachel wiped away her own and looked over at their patient.

  “How long have you been awake?” Rachel demanded.

  Pro just smiled in embarrassment. “I knew you wouldn’t shoot him.”

  *

  Ray wasn’t having to pretend house arrest was pure misery. When he’d agreed to do it, he’d assumed it would be Carla who would drive him nuts. Instead, it was Tina who wouldn’t shut up about how these “animals” had done something to Tom. Carla, with the exception of the round of questioning she’d launched at him when he’d been pushed through the door by Reed two days ago, had been quiet. Too quiet. The woman was a natural busybody, always directing, always complaining, and her sullen silence was new enough that he was certain she was worried about something other than where Tom was.

  Their large suite had two separate bedrooms and a large common area with a small kitchenette. The minders on guard out in the hall kept them fed and watered. They’d all been pulled out for questioning one at a time. His time was spent explaining to Daniel that Carla hadn’t said anything useful. Charles, the old man, had explained that he’d been told his incarceration was just a precaution. Tina had been out of her mind that “they” kept asking about Tom, like he was a criminal or something and not a doctor. Carla hadn’t said a thing about her questioning, but afterwards, Ray had caught her looking at him like she was trying to come to a decision.

  He couldn’t figure out what it could be. In terms of an escape, the were on the twelfth floor; windows weren’t any more an option than the door and the guns on the other side of it. The dynamic in the room had changed an hour ago. The woman who in his opinion really ran Tysons, had delivered their breakfast in person. Michelle had stood there smiling at them before leaving.

  “You folks had better be telling the truth . . . Jason’s back. He’s anxious to meet you all today.”

  “We don’t even know why we’re here!” Carla shouted, venting the frustration that he’d seen building in the woman over the last couple of days.

  Michelle looked at all of them in turn and settled on Carla. “I’m betting you do.”

  “Where’s Tom?” Tina cried. “Why won’t you let us see him?”

  “You tell us where he is,” Michelle answered. “We’d be happy to let you see him.”

  He’d been staring at the door that Michelle let slam behind her. Carla was looking at him again, weighing something.

  “This Jason sounds like a scary character.” Charles didn’t say much, ever. Ray thought the old man was just tired in a way well beyond his advanced years. Like someone who knew he’d lived his life and had been sentenced to a retirement that just wasn’t fair—wasn’t worth it.

  “You don’t believe those stories they tell, do you?” Carla spit back at him. “They make him out like some sort of demon who cleared out the goons who used to run this place, all by himself.”

  “Not a demon.” Charles was shaking his head. “Just a tough son of a bitch.”

  Ray didn’t doubt the stories. The people he’d met at Tysons seemed like good people, no different than most of the people he’d been held with in Kentucky. Good, solid folks who had fallen or been pushed into some horrific shit in the name of survival. Most of them, here or in Lexington, weren’t the type to push back; that was a rare thing. There’d been a few hard individuals in Lexington who’d pushed back and tried to free the others. They’d all died; all except one. He’d live with the guilt from that for the rest of his life. He’d told himself more times than he could remember that he was done with the shit that came with other people—yet here he was again.

  “These people have no idea what tough is,” Carla responded and stormed out of the room. She slammed the door of the bedroom the girls had been using, and he was left in the living room with a tired old man and a juvenile girl who had somehow managed to hang on to the belief that the world, fallen as it was, still owed her something.

  “What could have happened to him?” Tina mumbled mostly to herself and fell back into the couch. Her grandfather came up behind her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

  “I don’t know, but she knows something she ain’t saying.”

  Ray looked up at Charles, who was staring at Carla’s shut door.

  An hour later, as the four of them sat in the living room, trapped by their own thoughts and worries, the door to the suite opened without a knock. Reed and Gabe stood there, making a show of being armed. They flanked a man he hadn’t seen before. The guy was of average height, very solid, with short-cropped hair and a week’s worth of stubble on his face. So, this was Jason. He didn’t need an introduction. He looked like a guy who could handle himself. The man’s eyes were empty enough that he could almost imagine the things Jason had done to free these people.

  Jason panned across the group slowly, twice, until the cold gaze fell on him. “You first.”

  Ray just let out a long breath and nodded. He’d shot the kid this guy thought of as his son. Playacting or not, this wasn’t going to be fun.

  He went flanked by Reed and Gabe, both of whom he’d spent some time with. They seemed like good guys, but he had no doubt either of them would put a bullet in his head if Jason told them to. Yet one look at Jason, and he was just as convinced the man wouldn’t ask somebody else to do his dirty work.

  Nobody said anything until the door to the suite shut. Then Jason just looked at him for a moment and held one finger up to his lips as he motioned towards the elevator at the end of the hall. He met the man’s eyes; there was some depth there beyond the dead shark eyes that he’d seen a moment ago.

  He was stunned when both Reed and Gabe stayed outside the room’s door. Reed was about to protest when Jason waved him off and started walking to the elevator. He followed and waited for the elevator doors to shut before spea
king.

  “I take it you’ve talked to Pro?”

  “He told me what happened. I don’t blame you.” Jason looked at him for a moment and then gave his head an angry shake. “It was my fault for being gone. You have any idea how much that pisses me off?”

  “Yeah, I probably do.”

  “Ray? Is that your real name?”

  “It is,” he admitted. “Ray Hoover.”

  “Well then, Ray, you’ll probably understand you’ll want to be straight with me.”

  “I’ve been straight with Daniel; my story isn’t going to change.”

  “No matter what?”

  He caught himself shaking his head slowly. “I’ve been beat on before. Next to having the bends, it didn’t even really register.”

  The elevator opened up on the second floor, and they stepped out into another hallway of rooms. The crazy stoner of a doctor was coming down the hall towards them.

  “Where we going?”

  “Pro wanted to see you.”

  And I want you to see him, Jason thought. Ray was different than what he’d expected. Jason watched Pro as he let Ray go in first.

  The look of surprise on Pro’s face was part of the answer he needed to be certain of. Pro wasn’t at all fearful.

  “How you feeling?” Ray asked as he moved to the foot of the bed and looked down at Pro. The teenager struggled to sit up a little higher.

  “I’m OK.” Pro grinned. “Not the first time I’ve been shot.”

  “Seriously?” Ray sounded shocked.

  “Yeah.” He moved up to the side of the bed between Ray and Pro. “He’s not as smart as he looks, and this had better be the last time.”

  “It was my fault,” Pro said.

  “No, it was mine.” Ray rubbed the top of his bald head as he spoke to Pro and then turned to face him. “It had been a while since I’d had to . . . I kind of freaked after I shot Tom.”

  “He deserved it,” Pro announced. “The guy was up to something.”

  Jason watched Ray’s reaction. He was pretty sure the man didn’t think Tom deserved to die. It was the second part of the answer he was looking for. This guy wasn’t a nut; he was just looking to check out, head to Georgia, and crawl into a hole. Jason understood that sentiment in a way that scared him. If it wasn’t for those he’d come to love, he’d be in the same place.