Tris shook her head in disgust. “I should’ve put a bullet in that bastard’s head as soon as I saw him pointing a gun at you.”
“Honestly?” Kevin walked around the table and took Abby’s hand. “Probably not. If you had a gun on you, Warren might’ve been afraid you’d shoot him as soon as he started accusing you of being infected.”
Abby sniffled. “An’ Dad woulda gotten killed like they shot Tris for killin’ Warren.”
“It’s a risk. Depends on if it’s riskier not to have one.” Kevin stared at his hand engulfing hers, hoping she didn’t bristle at him for attempting to replace her father.
“I…” She shivered. “Guns scare me…”
“They scare me too, kiddo.” Kevin smiled.
She managed a small smile in return.
“I’ll show her the basics.” Tris swiped at her empty hip, and froze.
“What?” asked Abby.
“Just got so used to always carrying that Beretta around. Feels strange not having it on me.” She started for the living room. “Guess I feel safe here.”
Kevin released Abby’s hand and patted her on the shoulder. “I’m going to go check on the car, make sure it’s up for a ride.”
“I’ll clean up.” Abby stood and gathered the bowls.
Kevin headed out the front door and down the porch, which had only a few feet of clearance to the gravel road passing by―not that getting hit by a car presented much of a concern. Hell, this place probably didn’t have much traffic even before the war. The Challenger sat in the grass a few feet east of the house. One downside of Ned came in not having a charging plug at the house. He stopped, hooked his thumbs in the pocket of his jeans, and sighed, missing the little garage he’d had in Rawlins. Of course, he could always build one here too. For the time being, he’d have to move the car to the downtown area for a charge, and either wait with it or walk home.
After keying in the security code with the rubberized buttons under the door handle, he hopped in and slid his thumb across the six rocker switches over the console. Everything lit up as it should. Of course, nothing going wrong with the car only fanned the fires of his superstition. Fate wanted him to head off on this trip so it could screw him harder when it would hurt more. The battery showed a seventy-seven percent charge, not quite enough to leave him comfortable about starting a long drive.
Abby emerged from the front door, having put her moccasins on. Tris followed a moment later. He tapped a square button on the left side of the central display screen, paging through the car’s internal diagnostics. He found himself hoping something with the car failed, as if a problem now somehow guaranteed nothing major would go wrong once they’d gone a hundred miles into the wasteland. He chuckled, thinking about many nights drinking at Roadhouse tables with other travelers. I’m being dumb. Why are drivers so superstitious?
“Hey,” said Tris, appearing by his still-open door. “Taking Abby to the range for a little while, see if I can at least get her able to hold a gun without her hands shaking.”
Abby stared at the ground.
“Okay. Be careful. I’ll probably wind up leaving this thing downtown for the night.”
“Damn, sorry.” Tris smacked herself in the forehead. “I forgot to ask Crystal about a car plug. I’m not sure they have an extra.”
Kevin chuckled. “Another reason to go shopping in Amarillo I guess.” He shut off the diagnostic with a grumble. “Not worth the bother. Ain’t like I’ve got a need to do a lot of driving lately.”
Tris took Abby’s hand and led her past the Challenger, across the road that came within four feet of the back of their house, and up the hill to the east. The local militia had a firing range set up at the northwest part of town where a nice-sized bit of mountain served as a backstop. They only had an hour, if even that, of daylight left.
Grinding gravel announced the car pulling away, Kevin no doubt heading downtown to plug in. He’s taking the death of his gods well. It may or may not be worth a trip back there to salvage solar panels. Fair bet half the remaining proprietors had contemplated it, but maybe with the Code defunct and having to worry about defending themselves, the idea of running headlong into a city with hundreds of Infected would be too intimidating.
Not that she had a tremendous amount of faith in what the Enclave had taught her, but history class made it sound like solar power had wound up competing with nuclear as the dominant source of electricity in the years leading up to the war. A fair amount of areas where fear kept the nuke plants away already had the basic infrastructure for solar. Of course, even Amarillo’s stash couldn’t repair the entire country… hell, probably not even one whole city. She smirked to herself at the irony of cities filled with people terrified of living near nuclear power plants being bathed in radiation by warheads instead.
Abby swung her free hand at her side, walking with her gaze on the dirt. “It’s nice here.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you like it?” The girl looked up.
Tris nodded. “Yes. I guess I do miss Rawlins a little bit, more than I thought I would, but you are much safer here than you would’ve been on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.”
“Is Kevin upset that I made you leave?”
“You didn’t make us leave.” Tris ran a hand over Abby’s head. “Besides, he wanted to take me here before you showed up.”
Abby blinked in disbelief. “He was afraid of you getting hurt?”
“I’m fast, but I’m not perfect. I don’t know how long the nanites will keep working. And… he’s a guy.” She held her arms out. “I look fragile, so he’s got this deep-seated need to protect me.”
Abby grinned. “It’s kinda cute.”
Tris laughed. “It annoyed me at first… but, it’s nice to have someone who worries about me.”
“Yeah.” Abby bowed her head and punted a small rock off into the grass.
Tris scowled at the sky. Nathan, I hope you die painfully for what you did. “I’m sorry I didn’t shoot Warren sooner.”
Abby kept quiet for a few strides before looking up. “Is that why you let me stay with you? ‘Cause you think it’s your fault my dad got killed?”
“Well, I guess that is a little bit of it, but the look in your eyes when you asked. It wasn’t even a question for me.” She managed a smile while pushing the range gate open.
The old wooden fence creaked.
“It’s not your fault.” Abby looked her in the eye. “If you killed Warren right away, it woulda been murder… even if he was an asshole. Everyone was so freaked out, they probably would’ve gone crazy.”
Someone had already set up a couple of cans and paper plates on sticks at about twenty yards, decent enough targets. Tris guided Abby up to a brown folding table upon which sat two more cans, a few scraps of paper, and a gun cleaning brush.
“We don’t have much light left, so I’m not going to waste too much time.” Tris pulled the Sig out of her belt, removed the magazine, and racked the slide to eject the bullet. “Whenever you’re around a gun you should always―”
“Treat it like it’s ready to fire.” Abby shifted her weight onto her left leg and tapped her right moccasin toe into the dirt. “Dad always said that. I had a little gun back in Amarillo, but I forgot it when we had to run out in the middle of the night.” Her lip quivered. “He, uhh, gave it to me when I turned ten.”
Tris set the gun on the table and pulled her into a hug. “I’m so sorry. The town’s thinking of going back there to salvage some solar panels… if I go, I’ll look for it.”
Abby sniffled a moment or so later. “I’m not crying over a gun… I miss my dad.” She wiped her eyes and picked up the Sig. “This is a lot bigger than mine. Is it gonna hurt my hand?”
“It’s a 9mm, shouldn’t be too bad. That’s why we’re here.” Tris gestured for her to try aiming it empty. “I don’t think you’ll need to use it, but if you’re afraid of what it’s going to do when you pull the trigger…?”
“I’ll get hurt, yeah.” She sighted over it a few times, holding it in a two handed grip. “It’s a bit different. Where’s the safety?”
Maybe her dad did show her a few things. Tris pointed it out after Abby found the slide release and magazine eject without help. The girl grabbed the magazine and loaded it, but struggled to pull the slide back. After a moment of grunting and straining, she racked it, chambering a round.
Abby let out a sad laugh. “Guess I need to lift stuff or something.” She aimed. “If someone tries to hurt me, I’ll probably forget I even have a gun and just cry at them.”
“The first time I had to defend myself, it happened before I could think it through.” Tris cringed, expecting a gunshot any second. She hovered behind Abby, ready to catch if either gun or child went flying.
Blam.
The girl’s arms bounced up a few inches and a puff of dust rose up from the dirt.
Abby adjusted her grip. “Wasn’t trying to hit anything… Okay, it doesn’t kick too hard.”
Two methodical shots later, she nipped a can. Seconds before firing a third shot, a man and woman in green, followed by Emma, ran over with rifles. It took her a second to remember the dark-skinned woman; she pictured the building in Chicago, and a name came back to her.
“You okay?” asked Patricia.
Thirteen-year-old Emma eyed the clouds while squeezing and relaxing her grip on an AK47.
Tris exchanged a knowing look with the kid before smiling at Patricia. “Abby’s acclimating to a new weapon.”
The woman nodded.
“If you don’t mind,” said the man Tris wanted to call Peter, “next time, give us a heads up. Unexpected gunfire gets people nervous… especially when it’s almost dark.”
“Sorry.” Abby clicked on the safety and put the Sig on the table before backing away like the gun might spontaneously hurt someone. “I’ll stop. I got a feel for it already.” She eyed Emma before following the older girl’s gaze to the clouds. “What’s up there?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” Tris picked up the gun and smiled at the militia. “Sorry for stirring up a false alarm.”
Another man in green camo emerged from the tree line, jogging up the dirt path to the range.
Patricia waved to him and yelled, “Clear.”
Abby wrapped herself around Tris’ left arm. “Can we go inside before it’s all the way dark?”
Tris offered an apologetic smile to the militia. “That sounds like a good idea.”
All three of the militia gave Abby comforting looks as she passed them.
A few minutes into the walk home, Abby broke the silence, but didn’t look up. “Emma’s from a settlement that used to be in Boulder. Her parents and brother got taken by Infected when she was like six.”
Tris cringed. I never had the cure to begin with… I didn’t fail. “I…”
Abby kicked at an egg-sized rock, sending it tumbling. “She’s not afraid of them. She wants to kill them all. I hope she doesn’t do something stupid and get hurt.”
“Yeah.” Tris sighed. Why do I feel so guilty that I failed to bring the cure to the Resistance? Kevin keeps telling me it’s not my fault, but…
“Why are you crying?”
“I…” Tris dabbed at her cheek. “Don’t know. I told you about the cure thing… It doesn’t make any sense, but I feel like I screwed up.”
Abby stopped and stared for a few seconds of earnest silence. “Please don’t do something stupid because my dad got killed. I’d rather stay safe with you here.”
“Stupid is subjective.” She gave Abby a firm hug before resuming the trip home. “I promise I won’t do anything foolish.”
2
Speed
Kevin hurried a few thin-sliced pieces of dust hopper meat around the pan with the tip of a wooden spatula. He dropped in six eggs one after the next and whipped the entire mess into a scramble. Tris walked in, yawned at the still-dark window, and squinted at him.
“What?” He smiled. “The sun will be up in ten minutes or so.”
She collapsed in a chair and put her head down. “We’re driving to Omaha, not going fishing… why are we up this early?”
“Huh?”
Tris shrugged. “People who fish always wake up before the sun for some reason.”
“Historical documentary?”
“Yeah,” she muttered into the hollow between her face and the table. “At least that smells good.”
“Where’s Abby?”
“Couldn’t wake her up.” Tris yawned.
Kevin shoveled the meat-and-eggs mixture into a large serving bowl and turned off the electric stove. “I can’t get over how… creepy this feels.”
“What’s creepy?”
“This”―he gestured around at everything―“kitchen. This house. It reminds me of movies I’ve seen of before the war.” He carried the bowl to the table and set it down. “Be right back.”
“Mmm.”
Kevin jogged upstairs and headed to the second bedroom which had become Abby’s. He knocked twice and pushed the door in. The girl lay on her side with her arms and legs wrapped around the pillow, using a man’s large sweatshirt for a nightgown. He walked over and gave her shoulder a gentle nudge. After a minute of no reaction, he did it again.
Her left eye popped open. “Mmm?”
“Breakfast.”
She emitted a disinterested murmur and snuggled into the pillow.
“You can sleep, but we’re heading to Omaha soon. I’d prefer you stay here where it’s safe anyway. I’ll ask Bill and Ann to check on you.”
“Wait.” She straightened her legs and stretched. “That’s not fair.”
“Trouble sleeping?” He sat on the edge of the bed.
Abby, eyes still shut, yawned. “Yeah. Why do we have to go so early?”
“More daylight for driving. I want to be sure we can find a decent place to spend the night, probably around Kearney. The Hastings ’house is not a happy place right now… might have to go past it, and I don’t fancy spending the night in Omaha.”
“Why?” Abby opened her eyes. “What’s in Omaha?”
“A strange man who lives in an airplane. He’s got information from Tris’ head that she wants. Omaha was a big city, and I don’t want to be near it any longer than I have to be.”
Abby frowned at the pillow.
“We’ve been there before. It’s not a bad trip. If you want to stay here with Bill and Ann, you don’t have to go.”
She pushed herself up to sit. “I’d rather stay with Tris and you. I’ll come downstairs after I get dressed.”
Kevin ruffled her hair and jogged back to the kitchen as Tris poured coffee into two cups. He winced at the idea of drinking fifty-year-old coffee, but it’s not as if he hadn’t done that before―or worse. He accepted the cup and slurped it, wincing when the taste hit him. Erk. Instant. Kevin suppressed the shudder. A minute or so later, Abby entered, wearing her new dress and carrying moccasins. She fell hard into her seat and stared at the portion of eggs and bread Tris put in front of her as if searching for the deepest secrets of the universe.
“You want coffee?” asked Kevin.
Abby stared at the fork; her expression suggested she couldn’t quite comprehend its function. “Can I sleep in the car?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll skip the coffee.” She fumbled the fork around into a proper grip and got to shoveling food.
After eating, Kevin collected the dishes and cleaned them with a few quick swipes of a sponge. Tris ran upstairs, returning in about five minutes, having changed from her T-shirt-and-nothing-under-it outfit to her favorite black T-shirt with the grey ankh design, jeans, and her Enclave shoes.
“Car’s down by the militia building. I’ll go get it so Abby doesn’t have to drag herself across town.” Kevin tried to give Tris a peck on the cheek, but she held on for a longer, deeper kiss. When she finally relaxed, he leaned back and smiled at her. “Be right back.”
> He headed outside and hooked a left, following the gravel. The air had a touch of chill at the hour, and a symphony of insects and birds filled the streets. An almost-mile walk brought him into the center of Ned, past the lot full of old digging machines rusting along the left side of the road. Bill Vasquez, dressed as always in his olive-drab fatigues, emerged from the tan building at the corner that the militia used as a headquarters, and offered a ‘good morning’ wave. A brick-sized light over the door brightened the area a bit more than the pre-sunrise sky could.
“Still going on with this trip?”
“Yep.” Kevin unhooked the charging plug.
“Well, hope it’s what you’re expecting. You can send Abby over whenever.” Bill set his hands on his hips.
Kevin walked with the wire as it retracted into the panel. “She’s uhh, coming with us.”
“What?” Bill blinked. “You’re sure about that?”
“Nope. Not at all, but…”
“Outvoted?” asked Bill, chuckling. “Ann and Zoe gang up on me too.”
“Something like that.” Kevin shook his head, unable to resist a grin. “At least we did this trip once before and it wasn’t bad. Abby’s got herself convinced we won’t come back and that whole situation with her father…”
Bill scratched at his close-cropped hair. “Well, figure you know the run. Always willin’ ta watch her if ya need. Though, rather ya stick around.”
Kevin smiled. “Yeah… that makes two of us, but Tris’ gotta know what that strange little man found. We’ll be back. This place is home now.”
“I can’t say I’d feel different in her position.” Bill leaned forward, chuckling at the ground for a second. “She seemed pretty worried that a particular kind of problem would come out of the sky.”
“Yeah.” His jaw tightened. “I wouldn’t put it past them to drop that shit here… I’m amazed they haven’t done it already. Probably since Ned is so damn small. You guys see anything in the air that ain’t flapping its wings, shoot it.”
“Don’t worry. We will.”
The Roadhouse Chronicles Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 87