Will paused a long moment. “How did I know this little meetup wasn’t going to be innocent?” he pondered aloud, turning away. “Look, I’ll give you…five minutes, that’s it. Get in, do…whatever it is you’re planning to do, and get out. If you can’t get whatever you’re planning done in that allotment—”
“Five minutes is plenty of time,” Lauren said, a cunning grin appearing.
“Good. If anyone asks, I’ll say you snuck in from around the back while I was taking a piss.” He blew a puff of air through his lips. “Get going before I change my mind. You never saw me.”
Lauren smirked. “And you never saw me.” She knelt, transferred the heated water from the titanium cup to the Nalgene, stuffed her pack, and trotted past.
Will watched her leave, hesitated a moment, then finally called to her. “Hey, Lauren. Hold up a second.”
Lauren slowed to a stop and sent a curious glance over her shoulder.
Will took a long drag and closed in on her. “It’s my turn to level with you. News travels fast around here. I heard about what happened, all of us have. And, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“Me too. And thank you.”
“I know you’re mad at him. You have every right to be. What he did was out of line; there’s no denying it. I doubt anyone in the unit would disagree.” A pause. “But…I’m getting a bad vibe about you going in there.”
Lauren scowled. “I can handle myself, Will.”
“I know that. We all do,” Will said. “It’s earned you a lot of respect with the unit. But that said, is going through with this worth losing that? Jeopardizing the reputation you have?”
Lauren turned away, her glance falling to the road. “I don’t know what else to do. I mean, he’s made dick moves before, but barging into my home and bragging to my family about something he and I did that never happened…something that supposedly existed between us…” She trailed off and exhaled. “He lied, Will. He confused a lot of people. And he hurt people. He hurt me.”
“I know.” Will nodded apologetically. “I know he did.”
“And I just want to make him pay for what he’s done, that’s all.”
“I know that too. And I’m not saying you’re wrong, I’m just saying that maybe this approach isn’t the best one.”
Lauren sighed loudly. “And what do you suggest I do? Go home? Go back to the drawing board and think things through a little longer? Christ, ever since John broke up with me, that’s all I’ve done. Dad coming home was a miracle, and it took my mind off things for a while—still does whenever I’m with him, but when the dust settles and life resumes its meager pace, all I’m left with is me and thoughts of John. I don’t know how to make it go away, or if it ever will, but I do know how to even the score.”
Will squared off with her. “We’re friends, but we don’t know each other very well. I’m not much older than you, and I really don’t have any business giving you advice, but I know what I’m talking about here. I’ve been where you’re at before, and sometimes, the immediate response to that initial urge to clean the slate isn’t the best one. Besides, there are other ways of getting back at him.”
“Other ways,” Lauren murmured. “What do you mean?”
“You know as well as I do you’re not the only one Richie treats this way. He’s a loner, always has been. His relationships with other people have never been a priority to him, and his list of friends is severely lacking. I don’t think there’s a single person he confides in. If you go through life shitting on everyone, that’s all you’ll get in return. Personally, I think he’s just isolated. And sad, especially now. Cut off from his family and their money…caught up in this shitshow of an apocalypse…”
“Okay, now it sounds like you’re making excuses for him.”
Will shook his head. “No, only empathizing. Friends close, enemies closer, you know.”
Lauren’s eyes shimmered. “Do I. Dave would rattle that off every time he heard I was having an issue with someone in school. Worked every time, almost.”
“But that’s life, isn’t it?” Will pondered. “Look, how about this? Postpone your op and let me figure a way to get back at him for you. I’ll run it by the guys, and we’ll come up with something, reach a consensus, and present it to you before any action is taken. Sound acceptable?”
Lauren nodded and shrugged. “Acceptable? I suppose. But not the least bit gratifying.”
Will dropped the fully spent cigarette to the ground and smothered it. “But it’s safer for you, and it’ll keep your spotless record intact.”
“There is that. So what will you guys do to him?”
“Don’t know just yet. The unit has its own internal ways of dealing with bad apples. But you will appreciate the results.” Will paused to switch gears. “By the way, got anything planned for later this morning, say 0800?”
Lauren about-faced and adjusted her pack, preparing for her return trip home. “No…I mean, nothing other than the usual mundane daily routine.”
Will examined his freshly opened pack of smokes, gauging his desire for another. “You should come to the range with us,” he said. “We’ll be running drills there for a few hours, like old times.”
“Range?” Lauren prompted. “You mean Fred’s field?”
“I take it no one’s told you,” Will began. “We fixed it up a bit. Plowed the snow, added some steel silhouettes, a shitload of obstacles and such. Remember the Gauntlet?”
“The Gauntlet? Sure, how could I forget?”
“I know, right? I think we did a halfway decent job of cloning it,” Will said. “From what I recall, you were a force to be reckoned with in the original. Broke a few records.”
“Not all of them.” Lauren’s expression turned curious. “I’ve been running again, almost every morning. I’ve seen all the trucks parked there, but I never knew what you guys were up to.”
Will cracked a smile. “Why didn’t you stop and ask?”
“I don’t know.” Lauren shrugged. “Too many other things on my mind, I guess.”
“Well, consider this your official invitation,” said Will. “We’re training every day now. Like old times. Bet it’s been a long time since you’ve hit the range.”
“It has.”
“Then you’re way overdue.”
“Will Richie be there?”
“He might, unless he’s otherwise detained.”
Lauren smirked. “Do I want to know what that means?”
“Nope. Plausible deniability, remember? Don’t worry about Richie, we won’t let him bother you. I’ll be there, as will Neo, the chief, and a few other usual suspects.” He nudged her shoulder. “You should come. Show us you still got what it takes.”
Lauren exhaled, feeling empowered. “Okay, it’s a date. This is surreal—five minutes ago I was hell-bent on going in there and fucking him up…and you turned me. Are you a magician or a hypnotist?”
“Neither. I’ve just always been good with women.” Will smiled uncomfortably. “Talking to women, that is. Never did so well dating them…that’s another story. I’ve always been more of a…” He trailed off. “By the way, I’m puzzled. What were you going to do with the warm water?”
Lauren looked somewhat shameful. “Nothing…it’s not a big deal.”
“If it’s not a big deal, then just tell me.”
She delayed, feeling almost silly now. “I was going to put his hand in it…while he slept.”
“Why?”
“To make him pee himself.”
“What?” Will snorted. “You’re kidding me.”
Lauren shook her head in the negative.
“That really works?”
“It has every time I’ve tried it.”
“Interesting. Good to know,” said Will, now grinning mischievously. “Okay, practical joker, get out of here before someone sees you. See you at the range at 0800.”
Chapter 9
Alan Russell stirred, opened his eyes, and stared at the ceili
ng through blurry vision, the minute resonance of morning daylight entering the room. He blinked a few times to clear his sight, and the texture of the stippling became noticeable. Alan noted how new it was to him. It was only just beginning to become familiar, but so were many other things. The give of the pillowtop mattress springs beneath him, the softness of the bedsheets against his skin. The weight of the blankets covering them. The plushness of his pillow, and the electric warmth of the body curled next to him.
Alan rolled to his side. A head of glossy brunette hair belonging to his wife covered the pillow beside him. He ran a finger through it to emphasize its authenticity, prove to himself again that he was truly home and this wasn’t some dream. He was finally back with his family, his wife, and all he had lost and forsaken. It was difficult to believe and even more difficult for him to put into words.
Doing his best not to wake Michelle, Alan slid off the bed and rose. He rubbed his eyes and stumbled to their bathroom, placing his hands into a bowl of tepid water and splashing it on his face. He reached for a hand towel, dried his skin, and rubbed the matter from his eyes. Then, he looked upon himself in the mirror contemplatively for a moment and frowned. “You still look like hell. But you are a lucky man, Alan Russell. Maybe one of these days you’ll find a way to repay all the help you’ve received.”
Leaving the bathroom, he guided himself about the dimly lit bedroom to eventually find the closet. He dug through what few clothing options he had, dressed, then headed for the door leading to the hallway.
“Alan,” Michelle called to him, her voice a raspy purr, “where are you going?” She yawned. “What time is it?”
Alan halted and turned back. “Early morning o’clock, I think,” he joked. “I’m going to check the stove and get some coffee going. Want some?”
“Ugh…why are you up? It’s too early to be awake,” Michelle droned. “Come back to bed.”
“It’s a tempting offer, but I can’t. Today’s moving day. We’re picking up Ken at Dr. Vincent’s this morning.”
Michelle nodded, yawned again, and reached for him.
Alan went to her and got down on a knee. He took her hand and kissed the warmth of her knuckles. “Can I get you anything?”
She squeezed his fingers with hers. “Just you.”
“You haven’t had enough of that yet?”
Michelle shook her head as it lay buried in the pillow. “Never.”
“Then I guess I’ll stick around for a while and see what can be done about it.” He leaned over and kissed her temple. “See you in a bit. I love you.”
Michelle snuggled into her covers, opening her eyes wide as he strode away. “Alan, did you want me to come with you?”
“You can if you like, but it isn’t necessary. It’s more of a formality, us being there for him. Jade could just as easily get him here by herself, but I wanted to help him get settled in. Knowing her, she’s probably been up for an hour already. Might even be waiting on me.”
“You should make her wait longer,” Michelle said, though not loud enough for Alan to hear.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Okay. Sure I can’t get you anything?”
“No, I’m fine. Just let me sleep in. It’s good to sleep in. You should try it.”
Alan smiled, kissed Michelle’s cheek, and left the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. On his way through the hall, he noticed Jade’s bedroom door was open, and took it to mean she had already risen, as she rarely left her bedroom door ajar while inside. Once in the kitchen, he went about getting the wood-fired stove going and whipped up a pot of coffee, then added a few pieces of seasoned oak atop the embers inside the Timberline. Once the coffee was done, he transferred the hot beverage contents into thermoses, donned his outerwear, and strolled outside.
As expected, Jade was waiting for him, seated now in the driver side of the Marauder armored personnel carrier, a beast of a vehicle she rarely went anywhere without. The diesel engine was idling, and the dashboard vents were wafting heat on full blast.
Alan rearranged the thermoses to one arm and pulled himself into the passenger side, handing one to Jade. “Good morning. I come bearing warm gifts.”
Rubbing her palms together, she took the insulated container of goodness willingly. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again with emphasis—you are a wonderful man.” She sniffed the contents before chancing a sip. “God in heaven, this smells good, like genuine coffee. What brand is it?”
“Coffee brand. The one that tastes and smells like genuine coffee because it happens to be genuine coffee.”
“Mmm…real coffee, my favorite. From real beans picked from real plants.”
“That’s the one.”
Jade blew on hers and took a long drink, ignoring the scald. “Anything beats the swill Butch tormented us with at his hideaway.”
“Agreed, wholeheartedly. That sludge was garbage…with the consistency of raw sewage.”
“Eww, Alan. Don’t ruin the moment. My stomach doesn’t respond well to nauseating stimuli, if you’ll recall.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Alan said, tapping the side of his head, “this is the new and improved Alan Russell brain. Put together like a steel trap.”
Jade sent him a look marred by playful skepticism and engaged the APC’s transmission. “You are pretty hardheaded, that’s a fact.” She led the Marauder out of the driveway, pulled onto Trout Run Road, and drove the short distance to Dr. Vincent’s at the old Ackermann home. Once there, she found a parking spot and shut off the engine. The pair climbed out, strode to the old farmhouse’s front porch, and Jade wrapped her knuckles on the storm door. A minute later, Dr. Vincent’s wife, Pamela, a doctor herself, came to answer. She met Alan and Jade with a smile and a delightful British-accented morning greeting, but only invited Jade inside, asking politely if Alan wouldn’t mind remaining on the porch.
Alan acquiesced, with no idea as to why the request had been made. Several minutes after, Jade reopened the door and held it for Ken, who staggered through the doorway and past her on a set of crutches.
Alan looked Ken over and backstepped to view his friend’s new predicament while Jade did something of the same.
Ken soon became annoyed with their silence and the looks they were giving him. “Okay, just what in the hell are you two staring at?”
Jade replied with an innocent, “Nothing.”
“What Jade said,” Alan added, “just…you and your new…augmentations.”
Ken squinted. “My augmentations? Okay, I get it. It’s obvious you two jokers missed me. I missed you guys, too. But I can sense an abundance of jeering and wisecracks coming on. I can even see them painted on the tips of your tongues. So, go ahead, spit them out, get them out of your system.”
Jade snickered, holding back any verbal response.
“I wouldn’t call them jeers or wisecracks per se, Ken,” Alan began, “just some observations coupled with a little offbeat humor. Seeing you this way is…inspiring, in a way. It brings about memories of the past…of, say, maybe even myself in a similar dilemma.”
Ken tried folding his arms, finding it difficult with crutches underneath them. “Oh, it does, does it?”
Alan nodded. “If memory serves…I remember something said to me once about my…limitations. Heh…and I think it was you who said it to me. Guess the…shoe is on the other…foot now. So to speak.”
Ken pursed his lips, unamused. “Yeah. It would seem that way.”
Jade put a hand to her mouth, attempting to mask her delight.
“What about you, Army?” Ken asked, turning to her. “You’re awfully silent for times such as these. Care to add anything colorful?”
“Nope. I think Alan is doing a superb job thus far. I wouldn’t want to mess up a good thing.”
“Right. Neither would I.” Ken scoffed. “Well, aren’t you two a fucking riot. Lots and lots to giggle about, right? Like having my ass cheeks ripped to shreds by
Butch’s exploding abode, then almost bleeding to death and having my leg amputated after getting shot. This highway to recovery hell is difficult enough without the added unprincipled…offbeat humor, as Alan so delicately put it.”
Alan lingered, holding back his laughter. “You’re right, Ken. I apologize.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Jade added.
“See? We’re both sorry.”
“That’s better,” Ken said. “And the two of you are sorry. I expect better from you both.”
“We didn’t mean to fail your expectations,” said Alan. “We almost lost you, and we’re lucky we didn’t.”
Ken’s look grew sincere. “Well, thank you, Alan. That means a lot.”
“And it wouldn’t be right of us to make you the…butt of our jokes.”
“The…butt of our jokes,” Ken repeated. “You know, for a second, I almost believed you were capable of being heartfelt. I should’ve known better.”
Alan patted Ken on the shoulder. “Probably. We should get going. Lots to do today to get you settled in.” He held out a hand, gesturing to the Marauder. “After you, tripod.”
“Tripod?”
“Hey, Jade, do you remember seeing any scrap lumber lying around the property?” Alan asked.
“There’s some, I think,” she replied in a giggle, “but not nearly enough to build a handicap ramp.”
“Okay, that’s enough, dammit!” Ken griped. “I’m a death-dealing devil dog with feelings, and you both are jumping up and down on my last nerve! Alan, look. I seem to remember times when Walt and I would poke fun at you and call you names. Looking back at those actions now, in retrospect, I can see that was wrong of us—but two wrongs don’t make a right. As it stands, you’re one of my favorite people, and I’d prefer you remain that way.”
“Why, thank you, Ken. Me too. And you happen to be my favorite jarhead.”
“That’s good. Because this jarhead can kick your ass from here to Honolulu, even on crutches. Don’t forget that.”
Chapter 10
DHS Shenandoah Outpost
The Heart of War: Book Seven of the What's Left of My World Series Page 7