by Susan Stoker
There was silence on the phone line as Dane tried desperately to keep the vision from taking over his mind. Tried to keep from throwing himself on the floor and covering his head.
“Flashbacks can be a bitch.” Truck said in an understanding tone.
“Yeah. I dropped the cup I was holding and grabbed hold of Bryn and spun with her, covering her body with mine to protect her from the shrapnel that I was positive was only moment away from flying through the air.”
“What’d she do?”
It took a second for Truck’s question to penetrate. When it did, Dane said simply, “Nothing. She stood there in my arms as the guy strolled past us to his family.”
“I love her,” was Truck’s strange response.
“What?” Dane asked in a choked voice. Logically, he knew Truck didn’t mean love, as in…love, but he unconsciously didn’t like the other man even thinking about Bryn like that.
“She didn’t panic? Didn’t struggle? Didn’t lambast you, claiming you embarrassed her? Didn’t tell you that you were crazy for your reaction?”
“No. She told the employee we didn’t need a replacement ice cream and we left. She even demanded my keys so she could drive.”
“Fuck, Dane,” Truck said in awe. “I don’t know her story, and I’m not saying you should elope with the woman, but she sounds like she’s a perfect match for you. I only know a handful of women who would react that way. Not get upset or embarrassed, and who would see that you were in no condition to be driving.”
“She’s super analytical. Wants to know how everything works. Spits out random facts that I’ve never even heard of when she gets nervous. She also doesn’t have a whole lot of common sense. I don’t know if it’s a type of autism or what, but she walked back to the bar from my place in the middle of the night. And when I told her that wasn’t very smart, she had no clue what I was talking about. It’s cute as all fuck, but frustrating as well.”
“Sounds like she needs someone like you to keep an eye on her. When are you seeing her again?”
“I don’t know. I…I haven’t left the house in a week, I’m afraid I’m going to do something else fucked up and hurt someone when I react the wrong way.”
“Call her,” Truck ordered.
“I don’t have her number.”
“Pbsst…that’s why we have Tex. All it’ll take is you telling him her name and he’ll have her number in like ten seconds. Seriously, call her. When’s the last time you went into a restaurant at dinnertime?”
“Before I lost my hand.”
“Exactly,” Truck said in a smug tone. “She’s good for you, Dane. It sounds to me like you’ve found the person who was made for you. I think you know it, but you’re fighting it.”
“Hello, pot, meet kettle,” Dane deadpanned.
“I’m not fighting shit,” Truck said immediately. “I know exactly who I want, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to get her. No matter what.”
Dane sighed. He hadn’t meant to be an ass. He made a mental note not to say shit about Truck’s relationship, if it could be called that, with Mary again. “I don’t know, man. I’m still so fucked up in the head.”
“How do you thinks she’s feeling right now?”
“What do you mean?”
“She helped you when you were drunk. You showed up at her place of work and asked her out. You had dinner and now she hasn’t seen or heard from you in a week.”
“Damn,” Dane muttered, realizing Truck was right. He’d seen how surprised and pleased Bryn had been when he’d said she was pretty. It was easy to see that she liked him. Liked him. And when he’d left her last week, he hadn’t even said he’d be in touch or anything. He just let her drive off without one word of thanks for having his back, for sharing her ice cream, or anything. He was an idiot.
“I’m an idiot.”
“Yup. Now, you gonna give me her name so I can call Tex and get her number for you?”
Dane could hear the smile in his friend’s voice. “Bryn Hartwell.”
“Got it. I’ll text it to you within the hour.”
“Thanks, Truck. I appreciate it. And I…just thanks.”
“You’re welcome. As much as this pains me, I won’t be able to check in and see how things are going for a while, so don’t screw anything up until I get home and can instruct you on how to properly fu—”
“Shut it, asshole.” Dane cut off his friend before he could say something that would really piss him off. It bothered him to hear Truck say anything crude in reference to Bryn. “You and the others be careful.”
“Always. And Fish?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. There are a lot of veterans out there, and more than that, the majority of civilians are aware of PTSD and what it’s done to us.”
“Now you sound like Bryn.”
“I knew I liked her,” Truck said with a laugh. “I’ll text you soon with her number and I’ll talk to the guys about getting up there when we get back. I expect to meet this amazing woman when we come visit.”
“We’ll see. Later, Truck.”
“Later.”
Dane clicked off the phone and sat back in his chair. Maybe it was about time he obtained a library card.
Chapter Eight
Bryn sat down at the small table in the breakroom in the back corner of the library and opened the book she’d found last week about making bunkers. She’d read it through once already, and found it absolutely fascinating. She knew there were people in the world who thought the breakdown of society was imminent, but she hadn’t known how extensive their preparations could be.
Stockpiling guns, building underground bunkers, buying property that had a water source that wasn’t hooked up to any city facility…it was all very interesting, and she really, really wanted to talk to someone who was prepping for the end of society and get a tour of a real-live bunker.
But more pressing at the moment was the thought that whoever had last checked out the book on bunkers, had also taken out the book on how to use fertilizer in a bomb. She’d looked up the person who’d done so. John Smith.
If that wasn’t a made-up name, Bryn would be surprised. But there was an address on the library card application form. She had no idea if it was legit or not, but had decided to at least research it. On the satellite images she’d checked out on the Internet, it looked like a house on the outskirts of Rathdrum, but she had no idea if the mysterious John Smith actually lived there—he could’ve made up the address to go with the fake name—or if there was a bunker being built on the property. The thoughts of the bunker were what really made her want to go.
When she was little, her parents had had her checked by all sorts of medical doctors. Then when her high IQ was discovered, she was constantly tested to see exactly how smart she was. She’d been poked, prodded, and analyzed by so many people…all she’d wanted was to be left alone. It was one of the reasons she’d chosen to live in Rathdrum. There weren’t a lot of people.
Something about the prepper lifestyle called to that side of her. Being by herself, living off the grid, with no need to go to the store and deal with people. No need to pay bills. She’d miss the Internet and being able to look up information whenever she wanted, but being able to disappear appealed. Big time.
The itch between her shoulder blades was getting stronger each day. She needed to see a real-live prepper bunker. Needed to see if the image in her head was a fantasy, or if she could actually live cut off from society as preppers did. Or at least how they were planning to if the need arose.
Her parents had never understood her extreme curiosity, telling her more than once that it would get her into trouble someday, but Bryn had merely shrugged when they’d tried to curb it. How else would she learn anything?
“Hi.”
Bryn jumped in her chair and whirled around to see Dane standing in the doorway of the breakroom. She put one hand on her chest and said breathlessly, “I didn’t hear the do
or open.”
“Obviously. And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. What are you looking at so intently?”
She smiled up at him. “A book on how to make a bunker.”
“A bunker?”
“Yeah, one of those underground homes where if society shuts down and everyone turns on each other, you can go and live in it and no one will know you’re there. Did you know that people have built these things to sustain them for years at a time? They can get fresh water, grow their own food, and literally disappear from the world without a trace. It’s so cool.”
While she’d been talking, Dane had settled himself into a chair next to her. Not across from her, next to her. Right next to her. He leaned over and used his index finger to turn the book around so he could see what she was looking at.
“I did know. Reading about how to get fresh air in there, huh?”
Bryn nodded, trying to push back the disappointed thoughts she’d had all week that she hadn’t heard from Dane since their dinner picnic. “Sometimes people just use a simple tube, but the extreme preppers build an exhaust system involving fans, and make sure they have several different intake and exhaust ports, just in case one gets compromised.”
“What else?”
Bryn eyed Dane. She couldn’t tell if he was making fun of her or if he really wanted to know what she’d learned. He looked good today. His left arm was in his lap, but she’d noticed he had on his prosthetic. He was also wearing the boots she’d always seen him in, a pair of jeans, a white long-sleeve shirt, and his ever-present leather jacket. The smell of leather would remind her of him forever.
She looked down at the book lying in front of her and bit her lip. She was wearing jeans today as well, and she’d paired them with a navy-blue Rathdrum Public Library T-shirt and was still wearing the apron she used when she stocked the shelves to keep herself from getting too dirty. It was very big on her, but she hadn’t cared before today. On her feet were her usual sneakers. Bryn knew her hair was probably a mess. She’d pulled it back into a ponytail when she’d left the house, but it was probably coming loose by now. She so wasn’t in his league. Not even close. She might be clueless about a lot of things, but growing up the way she had, she’d quickly learned that she was an outcast and just didn’t fit in with the other pretty, well-liked kids.
“Well, um, there are around three million Americans who fall into the category of preppers. People who are making detailed plans on how to survive when the world as we know it ends. That’s only around one percent, but still, I was surprised at how high the number was. There’s a really popular website run by a former US Army Intelligence Officer. He says that the government isn’t going to be able to care for everyone if anything bad happens, so people should prepare now to watch over themselves.”
Bryn thought of something for the first time. “You were in the military, right? What do you think?”
Instead of answering, Dane picked up her ponytail, which had been lying along her back, and ran it through his fingers before bringing it to his face and smelling it.
“Dane?”
“Yeah, Smalls?”
“What are you doing?”
“Smelling your hair.”
“I see that, but why?”
“Because it smells good. And it’s been a week since I’ve smelled the beach. As for what I think about preparing for the end of the world…I believe it’s a good idea to be ready for emergencies. You’ve seen where I live, it’s not too far from Rathdrum, but it’s also a few miles out. There’s a stream on my property, where I can get water if I need it, I have about a month’s worth of food in my pantry, just in case, and I have a gas-powered generator for power. If you’re asking if I have a bunker buried on my property, the answer is no.”
“Darn.”
He smiled at her and put his elbow on the table and leaned on it. “You want to see a bunker, Smalls?”
She nodded. “I thought maybe you might know someone.”
“I don’t. But I can see what I could find out for you.”
“Really?”
“Really. On one condition.”
“Anything.”
His grin widened at that, but he stayed silent.
“What? Dane?”
“You should be careful who you tell you’ll do anything for. They might get the wrong idea.”
“About what?”
He straightened and slowly brought his hand toward her face. He smoothed a stray piece of hair that had been hanging in her face, behind her ear. Bryn shivered at his touch and swayed toward him. God, it had been so long since she’d been touched. It wasn’t until this moment that she realized how little contact she had with other people.
“Dinner. At my house.”
She blinked at Dane. “What?”
“Dinner at my house. I’ll find out if I can hook you up with anyone near here who has a bunker, if you’ll come over for dinner. But you have to promise to only meet with him, or her, if I’m with you.”
“Why?”
“Because some of these guys are paranoid and a little crazy. Many are veterans who haven’t dealt well with reintegrating into society, and their answer has been to wall themselves off from everyone. They have extreme opinions about the government, and even about the role women should play in society. There are also men out there who say they’re preppers, but in reality, they’re extremists. Either planning against modern society, or working with one of the many terrorist groups in the world. I know you’ve heard of Ted Kaczynski. The bottom line is that it’s simply not safe, Bryn.”
“But I only want to see how they’ve built their bunkers,” Bryn protested, furrowing her brows.
Dane put his arm on the back of her chair and leaned into her. “You can’t just go tromping out into the wilderness looking for bunkers. The last thing I want is for you to run into some asshole who thinks the government’s rules don’t apply to him. I researched preppers before I moved here. I wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into when I decided to live in Idaho. Preppers don’t trust anyone, and they’re not stupid either. Through my contacts and research, I found out there’s a group nearby who say they’re in the lifestyle, but no one believes them. They’re bad news…and they’re out there. The last thing I want is you stumbling across these guys.”
“I’m no threat to them.”
“Smalls, everyone is a threat to them. And it’s not just these mysterious bad guys. Think about preppers and their lifestyle. They spend their lives preparing for mass chaos. If you haven’t eaten in a week and are starving, what do you think you’d do if you found out someone had months’ worth of food hoarded away? What if you were dying of thirst and you stumbled onto a property that had fresh, clean water gurgling away? These guys, and sometimes women too, will protect what they have with deadly force. It’s exactly what they’re getting ready for. So if they agree to show you their bunker, and that’s a big if, you’ll not only see what they’ve done to prepare it’s also possible you might be able to find it again, or that you’ll tell someone else what you’ve seen. It’s a huge risk for them.”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Bryn said.
“Exactly. So if it’s possible, I’ll set it up and go with you.”
“But wouldn’t that just mean two people would now know all about their setup?”
Dane looked serious for a moment before agreeing. “Yeah.”
“And wouldn’t that mean you’d be in danger too?”
He nodded again. “Yeah, probably.”
“And wouldn’t you be more of a threat since you’re a guy? I mean, you aren’t exactly Mr. Nerd who sits in front of a computer screen all day. You’re big, built, and former military. I would think, if you’re right, and I’m sure you are, that you’d be more of a threat, and the guy wouldn’t want you anywhere near wherever his hidden bunker might be, and— Why are you smiling? I don’t understand.”
Bryn frowned at Dane. He’d been so serious, but as she’d spo
ken, his lips had curled up until he’d been almost laughing at her.
“Don’t laugh at me,” she said in a quiet voice, looking down at the table.
She felt his finger under her chin and raised her eyes back to his as he lifted her face toward him.
“I’m not laughing at you, Bryn. I’m merely amazed at how smart you are. To answer your question, yeah, I’d probably be a huge threat to a prepper. But I’m not going to put an ad in the paper. I know a few guys who can help me find someone who’s trustworthy…at least more so than a lot of other preppers. Regardless, it’s still a risk.”
He dropped his finger from her face and Bryn sighed at the loss. “Okay.”
“Now, dinner?”
Bryn nodded.
“Good. Want to go shopping with me?”
“I can do it…if you wanted.”
“I appreciate that, but I need to stop hiding in my house and get out there more.”
Bryn shook her head. “It’s not your fault, it’s—”
He interrupted her before she could finish her sentence. “How about if you meet me there around seven.”
“Tonight?”
“No time like the present. I hope you aren’t opposed to a late meal?”
“No, I think I told you before, I don’t sleep much. I usually end up snacking until late.”
Dane eyed her for a moment without speaking.
“What?” He made her feel off-kilter, and since she wasn’t all that skilled at reading people, she felt like she was constantly questioning him about what he was thinking.
“I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”
Bryn shrugged. “I’m just me. Nobody special.”
“Now that, I don’t believe. Seven at the grocery store, right? I’ll wait in my truck for you, if that’s okay.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll park in the back of the lot. Just pull up near me and I’ll see you.”
“Okay.”
Dane stood and Bryn looked up at him. Way up at him. Before she could say something she’d regret, he leaned over and put his good hand behind her head. He held her still as he kissed her forehead, then backed off. “See you later, Smalls.”