Abby laughed despite crying.
Tris took the girl’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get home; it’s about time for dinner.”
Bee stretched. “I am feeling optimal. Where is your home now? What has become of your roadhouse?”
“Fitch and Neels are taking care of it for the time being.” He chuckled. “Okay, I don’t have any plans to go back there, but it’s technically still mine as far as they insist.”
“I see.” Bee swiveled to face Tris. “Shall I prepare your food?”
“Sounds good,” said Kevin.
Tris stopped to glance at the clipboard hung on the wall by her workbench. Crystal had written in three tasks. Solar Panel Group B, Battery Relay Controller, and ‘Town Power Grid – discuss.’ Looks like I’m going to be busy tomorrow. She clenched her jaw. The longer I wait, the more likely it is Nathan sends a bird to shit on us.
“She’ll understand…”
“What?” asked Kevin.
“I gotta talk to Crystal in the morning. Maybe fix some stuff before we leave again.”
Abby mumbled, “Hope it takes a long time to fix.”
Tris squeezed her hand and looked up at the ceiling. Dad. If you’re out there, I need all the help you can give me.
7
Too Many Questions
Tepid bathwater lapped at Tris’ thighs and chest. She reclined with her arms along the tub edges, head back, and eyes closed. This house didn’t exactly offer the level of comfort her old Enclave home could provide, but of everywhere she’d been in the Wildlands thus far, it came the closest. Despite wanting to relax, she thought about design schematics for an electric water heater so people here didn’t have to rely on a black-painted zigzag of pipes in the sun and a bunch of insulation around a tank.
Not helping.
She sighed. Every moment she spent not chasing down her dead father’s message felt like she gambled the life of the world. Spending two hours after dinner with Abby had provided a brief reprieve. She’d wanted Tris there while she practiced opening handcuffs, but as soon as she put them on instead of held them, she became too nervous to do it right and panicked. After the girl had calmed down, they’d moved to house locks… something free of emotional scars. That required a bit more finesse than simply jamming a thin strip of metal between teeth and a spring-loaded catch. Great, now I’m going to have nightmares about being chained to a bed with Infected coming through the windows too. She shivered. The girl no longer appeared afraid of handling a gun, probably so nothing like the Warren situation ever happened to her again.
Abby had also asked Tris to teach her fighting, but that could wait.
Tris ran the soap up and down her arms for the fifth time. Her mind leapt to Katie, how terrified she must’ve been at every little noise for however long she’d been stuck unable to run or even walk. I hope she didn’t spend a whole year like that. I’d have gone crazy. There couldn’t have been too much distance between that building full of Infected and her grocery store home; if even one of them had found her…
A sudden wave of pure rage took her. She curled forward, arms wrapped around her knees, jaw clenched to keep from screaming. Katie’s voice said ‘Sickers got them’ in Tris’ mind. A six-year-old’s term for Infected. God dammit, Nathan. I know you didn’t start the Virus program, but you sure as hell don’t mind using it. She growled. Abject sorrow at what could have happened to Katie got her crying.
She daydreamed about pushing a button that consumed the Enclave in a nuclear fireball. It felt good. Thousands of people, many innocent, turned to ash in a microsecond… and it felt good. Just. Deserved. Retribution as if from God himself.
Tris snapped her head up, peering over her knees at the door. “Where did that come from? I don’t believe in a god.” She stared at the knob for a few seconds. “Dad?”
The knob turned with a creak. Abby poked her head in. “Gotta go.”
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
Abby nodded and started to recede into the hall, but stopped. “You don’t believe in God?”
“I…” Tris sighed again. “I’m not going to tell you what you should or shouldn’t believe. That’s a decision you have to make for yourself. I remember my father being into the whole god thing… but if there is one, he either allowed the world to destroy itself, made it destroy itself, or just doesn’t care.”
“You sound like Kevin.” Abby looked down. “Dad used to say it was like Sodomy and Gonorrhea.”
Tris coughed with the start of a laugh. “W-what?”
“Two cities that got flooded because they were evil.” She backed away from the door enough to give Tris privacy. “Maybe the world had too much evil in it and it needed to start over.”
“I…” She stared at the inch-wide gap between the door and the jamb. People who want to believe will rationalize any way around it. God is merely a philosophical construct, a scapegoat for people to disavow responsibility for anything that happens to them. She eyed the ceiling for a second. Dammit. Here I go wondering… I guess when you’re out of options, even some invisible man in the clouds feels like a legitimate lifeline.
She stood and wrapped herself in a towel. “Okay.”
Abby ducked in.
Tris smiled. “Good night, Abby.”
“Night.”
Tris held the towel around her chest and hurried to the master bedroom where Kevin lay with a plain white sheet up to the base of his ribs. She put on a sly grin and eased the door closed behind her. He glanced up at the click. She let the towel drop.
Kevin raised an eyebrow. “You were in there so long I thought you’d fallen asleep.”
“I’m not asleep.” She crossed her arms behind her head and grasped her elbows, stretching. “Looks like you aren’t either.”
Kevin raised more than an eyebrow.
She lifted her arms, brushing her hair up into a waterfall of snowy white. The ends tickled the small of her back as it collapsed in a fluff. Prowling like a cat, she padded to the end of the bed and crawled over him.
He reached up and slid his hands down her sides to her hips as she lowered her face to kiss him on the lips. Even with the electric charge his touch sent dancing over her skin, and the beautiful sight of his bare chest and roguish grin, she had to concentrate on not worrying about the Enclave.
Any minute now a drone might―
He slid his arms up and around her, pulling her into a deeper kiss. Soon, he moved to the side, kissing along the ridge of her jaw to her neck. Tingles ran down to her toes from beard stubble scratching at the side of her neck. His lips found that little space right above her collarbone, and she shuddered from the sensation. She let herself go in the moment. He rolled on top; his weight pressed her into the mattress. Tris moaned. Her breaths picked up speed; warmth spread over her face and flooded between her legs. He leaned up from kissing her neck and made eye contact with an ‘I got an idea’ smile. She stretched her arms out over her head as he slid backward, kissing his way down between her breasts, over her stomach.
Beard grazed the inside of her thighs. Her breath stuttered; muscles clenched in anticipation. His tongue flicked at her sex.
Tris grabbed handfuls of bedding and writhed. Back arched, she closed her eyes and floated in timeless bliss. She started to convulse as the instant of total pleasure approached, but he stopped. She managed to get her eyes open just enough to stare at him. Why did you stop?
Kevin kissed her navel, eliciting a shudder of paralytic ecstasy. He crawled back up face to face with her, still grinning like a pirate king. After a second of breathless staring into her eyes, he entered her.
“Oh…” She wrapped her arms up under his, clutching at his back. “Oh… I’m…”
A drone could’ve flown through the window and set a jar of Virus right on her nightstand and she wouldn’t have cared.
The fourth time their hips met, Abby’s scream broke the silence in the hallway.
“Ugh,” muttered Kevin.
“Nightm
are.” Tris squeezed him. “Perfect timing…”
He stopped, hands astride her head, wrists touching her shoulders. “She’s a big girl.”
Tris bit her lip at the… incompleteness. Flushed, and breathing hard, she grumbled.
Abby screamed again and lapsed into sobs.
Kevin rolled off to the side, still sporting an erection that could dent the armor of an Enclave hovercraft. She sat up
He gestured at himself. “It’s okay. Go ahead. See if she’s all right… I can’t walk in there like this.”
Tris stumbled off the bed, her legs not quite ready to cooperate. She pulled a T-shirt over her head and crossed the hall to the smaller bedroom. Abby sat curled up in the middle of her bed, sobbing into her knees. As soon as her door moved, she screamed again, but bit it back as Tris went in.
“Hey…” She sat on the edge of the bed and held up an arm. “Bad dream?”
Abby scooted over and leaned against her, still curled in a ball, with her head on Tris’ shoulder. “Yeah.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Abby sniffled. “Same one… I’m tied to the bed and can’t get away… and Infected are coming in the door.” She shuddered and sobbed. “I kicked at their hands and faces, but I couldn’t stop them. Daddy pushed outta the crowd; he was one of them.” She started to hyperventilate. “T-that’s w-when I woke up. He was gonna bite me.”
“It’s all right. You’re safe.” Tris rubbed her back with the occasional pat or shoulder squeeze. “It’s just a dream. You were so scared you couldn’t deal with it all then. Your mind is processing it bit by bit.”
Abby whined, huddling close.
“There is no possible chance that your father became Infected. It doesn’t do that. Dead is dead. It won’t make someone get back up.”
“’Kay,” whispered Abby.
Tris sat with her for a while in quiet. Around twenty or so minutes later, Abby calmed enough to crawl back under the covers.
She stared up with a weak smile. “Thanks for staying to protect me.”
Tris held her hand. “The militia is up all night. They haven’t had Infected in Ned since they put the trucks in the road. Even if one got in, they’re not sneaky. They’d get seen, and shot.”
Abby’s lip quivered as more tears ran down her face. “I’m not as scared of them as I am of ones you can’t see.”
Tris tilted her head.
“New ones. Like how Warren thought I was.” She wiped her face.
“Me too.” Tris leaned over and hugged her. “I know you don’t want me to go off on this trip, but… if there’s even a tiny chance I can stop that from happening again, I have to try.”
Abby sniveled, but nodded. “I know. I’m not trying to make you feel bad; I’m just scared. I kinda like having a mom.”
Tris smiled and poked her in the side. “Told you already, I’m not old enough to be your mother. I’d have been like seven when you were born.”
“Wow. You’re only eighteen?” Abby yawned.
“I don’t really know. I feel eighteen, but I think I was frozen for a while. I might be closer to twenty or twenty-one, but my body’s eighteen. Or, maybe I’m not getting older because of those little medical robots inside me.”
“Neat.”
“Okay, Abs. Time to go to sleep.” Tris stifled a yawn. “I’ll stay with you ’til you’re out.”
Abby smiled and closed her eyes.
Tris waited until the girl’s breathing changed, and lingered another few minutes before standing gingerly so as not to cause the bed to bounce. She slipped out into the hall and stared at her bedroom door. Yeah right. I’m not sleeping.
She padded downstairs to the kitchen. Kevin sat at the table cradling a cup of tea. It smelled funny, but fair bet the stuff wouldn’t be a hundred percent half a century after its ‘best by’ date.
“Hey.” She edged up beside him.
He put an arm around her. “Hey yourself. How is she?”
“Okay. Bad dream.” She sat in his lap and rested her forehead against his shoulder. “It’s at least a little my fault. I should’ve put up more of an argument instead of letting them tie her to a bed… twice.”
He put his face in the crook of his neck and inhaled her. The cold spot by his nose made her giggle. “Why didn’t you?”
“I… guess I was afraid if I pushed back any harder on Warren, things would’ve escalated into a gunfight. At that point, those people didn’t know me at all. I worried they’d all take Warren’s side if I shot him, then Zara and I would have to wipe out most of the people we went there to save.” She growled. “Damn, that stuff is so evil. The psychological aspect of it is worse than the actual virus.”
“Tris…”
She leaned up to stare into his eyes. “If you ask me if I could kill you if you became infected, I’m going to stab a knife through your balls into the chair. Don’t make me think that.”
“Colorful.” He squirmed. “That’s not where I was going.”
“Good. I like your balls un-impaled.”
He chuckled. “That makes two of us. But, what I was going to say…”
“Am I sure I want to do this?”
“Zero for two.” He lifted her chin on one finger. “Are you okay?”
She smiled. “I got enough guilt for a small banana republic, but I’m the only one here who isn’t having nightmares.”
“Someone had a government based on bananas?” He blinked.
“Oh…” She laughed, muffling it into his chest. “Thank you.”
“I’m serious.” He scratched his head.
Tris leaned her head back and moaned at the ceiling. “Ugh, that was like ninth grade. You’re making me remember schoolwork I loathed. It’s something like a third world country with an unstable government and… they export bananas as their primary income. Lots and lots of poor people, military types are in control.”
“Oh. Well if you’re right about no one nuking the third world, I suppose they’re not selling bananas much lately.”
She grasped his cheeks in both hands, mashing his lips into a warped rose. “Do you think I’m being foolish?”
“Do you?” He pulled her hands down and held them in his lap. “You do have a point. He dropped that shit on Amarillo. He can do it again.”
“Yeah but… the idea of getting that close to them again… Should we really run off chasing a message from a dead man?”
He ran his thumbs back and forth across the backs of her hands. “Is he dead or did he maybe vanish?”
If I knew that, I wouldn’t be going crazy trying to decide. “No clue. Sorry about Abby interrupting.”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. Even if you stayed in bed, a sobbing, screaming child across the hall kinda kills the mood. Poor kid’s been through a lot. All we can do is be there for her.” His expression became serious. “If you think we can do something more than just run off and get ourselves killed, I’m on board. Those fuckers deserve payback.”
She nodded. “I don’t have enough information to make that decision, but I have this strange pull to find out. I can’t explain it.”
“Protectiveness for Abby? Don’t want Ned to turn into a ghost town?”
She ran her hands over her hair, fingernails raking her scalp. “Yes, but, it’s more than that. It’s like I feel it’s gotta happen.”
“Probably a little bit of you still not quite over that whole cure thing.” He looked down for a second. “Let’s go make a phone call at least and see where that leaves us.”
She clung to him for a few minutes, trying to make sense of everything. “I don’t understand why I want to do this so badly. It’s all I can think about.”
“Hey…” He caressed her face until she smiled. “If I thought my dad might still be out there somewhere, I don’t think I could sit still until I at least tried.”
“Like the way you were about Wayne?” She grimaced, regretting the question as soon as it leapt out of her mouth.
&
nbsp; “Nah. More. That was about killin’ some guys for revenge. Goin’ after my dad would be tryin’ to help someone… or at least finding the truth.” He looked down. “No such hope though. I saw them blow his brains out.”
The sorrow wafting off him crushed her heart. She embraced him. “I’m sorry.”
Kevin chuckled.
“What about that was funny?” She sat back, peering at him with a cocked eyebrow.
“I was four. I had long hair and pink jeans on… Dad found them in an old store. The bandits thought I was a girl and almost threw me in with the women. They asked; I said boy. ’Course they thought I was lying so they looked. One held me up; the other yanked my jeans down. I pissed right in his eye.”
Tris laughed. “Really?”
“Nah, I’m making up that last part. I was probably screaming like a baby, but they did check my undercarriage.”
She kissed him for a few long, wonderful minutes. A thin trail of saliva linked their lower lips when she pulled back; the glistening thread snapped a second later.
“I’m so glad they didn’t kill you.”
He chuckled. “Even most slavers draw the line at kids. Either guilt or they don’t want the burden of taking care of them ’til they’re old enough to be useful. Some would’ve just left me to my own devices. The nicer assholes would drop them off at a settlement.”
“So who grabbed Katie?”
Kevin sighed. “You’re still pissed about that. I said ‘most’ slavers… some keep the girls ’til they get old enough to, uhh…” He looked down.
Tris scowled, clenching her hands in fists.
“Look. Those guys are already dead. Kid didn’t seem capable of lying about them getting ambushed by Infected.” He winked. “She knew the ‘sickers’ were in that building and didn’t warn them.”
“I don’t blame her.” Tris scowled.
“Well… either they were travelers who found a feral kid that kept trying to run away and wanted to force her back to civilization, or slavers.”
“People trying to help her wouldn’t have put her in a damn crate and nailed it closed.”
The Roadhouse Chronicles (Book 3): Dead Man's Number Page 10