by Lane, Summer
“Fine,” Elle said. “Do what you want.”
“Elle—” Uncle began, but Elle stalked away.
“I’ll do it myself, then,” she muttered.
She would have to go back into the city, and she would have to do it alone.
Elle sat at the end of a plastic table, absently stirring the hot bowl of stew in front of her. It smelled delicious, filled with chunks of meat and pieces of vegetables. She ate slowly, savoring the flavor. It had been so long since she’d had real food. She didn’t want to make herself sick by eating too fast.
Bravo sat on the floor by her feet, eating a bowl of food provided by the woman called Myra Linch. It was a mix of old meat and cuts of fat. The dog practically inhaled it.
There were conversations all around her. Voices echoed against the underground walls. It was overwhelming. So many people in one room. So many potential threats.
Elle kept her head down and listened, trying to latch onto a single voice to focus on, to keep the clamor of the crowd from becoming overwhelming.
“…The Freedom Fighters is where it started, initially,” one woman was saying. “One of the first militia groups in the hills, a hillbilly group of rednecks, the way you’d hear the Scouts tell it. But it was effective.”
“And the Mountain Rangers?” a man asked.
“Further up in the Sierra Nevadas.” The woman paused. “Rumor is, the militias in the mountains are in a bit of trouble. They couldn’t stay hidden from Omega forever, after all. The Mountain Rangers have been fleeing – they say they’re headed toward the coastline. Monterey, maybe. Monterey is supposed to be safer than Sacramento.”
Elle frowned and took another bite of the stew.
“The militias and the U.S. Military are becoming one,” the man replied, his voice lower. “It worries me.”
“I trust our military a lot more than I trust Omega,” the woman said.
“So do I, I’m just saying…” Another pause. “Merging all of these groups of people at a time like this. Either it’s a smart move or a ticking time bomb.”
Elle shook her head. She didn’t know what to think.
“Hey, we’ve been looking for you, shortstack.”
Georgia sat down in a chair across from Elle. Flash sat directly beside her and Jay took a place on Elle’s right. “What did he say?” Jay asked.
Elle pulled herself out of the conversation behind her.
“Who?” she said.
“Lieutenant Danes,” Jay replied. “What did he say when you talked to him?”
“Oh, that.” Elle shrugged. “He said we could stay…for now.”
“What else did he say?”
“That’s about it, actually.” Elle didn’t tell them about Nathan Ingalls. For some reason, she didn’t think they needed to know. “As long as we keep our heads down and behave, they’ll let us stay.”
“But not forever. They can’t just feed hundreds of people every day indefinitely,” Georgia pointed out, smoothing her curly hair. “They’ve got to kick people out at some point.”
“People here have jobs,” Elle said, nodding toward the guards at the doors. “People contribute to the cause, and they get a place to stay and food to eat. It’s not a bad system.”
“So if we want to stay we’re going to have to work,” Flash replied.
“Yes, which is completely fair.”
“Totally.” Georgia smirked. “I’ve never had an honest job before.”
“Speak for yourself, blondie,” Jay cracked. “I’ve had lots of jobs.”
“Yeah? Name one.”
“My parent’s liquor store. I ran that in high school.” Jay swallowed his food, then suddenly stopped talking.
She understood that. She knew that pain.
“…There’s a lot of colorful characters with the militias, too.” Elle tuned into the conversation behind her once more as her table fell into morbid silence. “A mixed bag,” the woman said, laughing. “They’ve got ex-teachers and lawyers toting rifles. It’s quite an army, let me tell you.”
“You’ve seen it?” someone asked.
“I was running with the Freedom Fighters until a few weeks ago,” the woman continued. Elle barely turned her body, enough to glance long strands of white-blond hair, sandy fatigues and a denim jacket. “Good people. They weren’t born fighters, but they became fighters. Our commander, Chris Young, was the best leader the militias will ever have.”
“There’s a lot being said about him lately.”
“Rightly so. He’s a good man.”
“So how did you end up down here?”
“The Freedom Fighters split. Commander Young and the better lieutenants like Cassidy Hart and Alexander Ramos joined the National Guard in Sector 20. I didn’t like being up in the hills without Young as a leader. I came down to find the National Guard. Had some help locating them from the pilot at Camp Freedom.”
“Ah, Manny,” someone laughed. “He’s well-known, too. The crazy pilot.”
Elle suddenly stood up, whirling around. She walked to the table behind theirs and stared at the woman. She was middle-aged, with deep green eyes.
“You know Manny Costas?” Elle asked.
“Everybody knows who Manny—”
“Do you know where he is?”
The woman shook her head.
“How should I know?” she answered. “I haven’t seen him since he joined up with the National Guard. He could be anywhere.”
“But he was with the militias in the mountains.” Elle took a deep breath, her cheeks flushing. “He’s alive.”
The woman gave Elle a suspicious look.
“What are you…his grandchild or something?” she asked.
“Or something.” Elle placed her hands flat on the table. “Listen, where did you last see him?”
“Well…” The woman stopped to think, wrinkling her brow. “It was right before the Battle of the Grapevine, maybe a week ago? He was flying overwatch for the National Guard. I ended up wounded in the first round of the fight”—she held up her left arm, where in place of a hand, there was a bandaged stump—“so they sent me here to heal up.”
“So he’s still alive,” Elle said again.
“Don’t go looking for him,” the woman warned. “I can see it in your face. He’s a friend of yours, and you want to find him. But I’m telling you – don’t. The Battle of the Grapevine was hell, so I’m told. I didn’t see the aftermath but—”
“I’ve seen it,” Elle interrupted. “Dead bodies for miles and miles. But I didn’t see a biplane. Manny’s still alive.”
Elle’s heart filled with hope. Uncle was alive. He was close.
After finding Aunt and Uncle’s ranch abandoned in the Tehachapi Mountains, she had assumed that they were both dead. But now she knew for certain that Uncle had been alive just a week ago.
This was a silver lining.
This changed everything.
Elle hurried back to her own table and finished her stew, her mind working at the speed of light. Jay and Georgia stared at her, tried to pry her out of her thoughts, but Elle was focused.
“Hey, girl.”
The woman walked to Elle’s table. Elle met her steady gaze.
“The National Guard unit that was at the Battle of the Grapevine,” she continued, “the one Manny was a part of? They’ve pulled back to Sacramento, but the Mountain Rangers are based in Camp Freedom, in the mountains. That’s where Manny might be.” She nodded. “I hope you don’t do anything stupid with the information, but I felt like you needed to know.”
Elle blinked hard. Was she going to cry? No way.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
The woman walked away.
“Who’s Manny?” Georgia asked. “Somebody you know?”
“He’s my uncle,” Elle replied.
“Are you going to find him?” Jay said.
“Yes,” Elle answered. “Of course.”
Flash suddenly looked up from his stew, his eyes red.
“I’m not coming with you,” he said. “I can’t go back out there. Not this time.”
Elle sighed.
“I’m not asking you to,” she replied. “Look. I hunted you down, I found you, I dragged your sorry butts across the desert”— she grinned —“and now you’re safe with the military. Our journey ends here. I’m taking Bravo and I’m going to find my uncle. You don’t have to come with me. Stay safe here. Your chances of survival are better.”
Flash bowed his head.
“Thank you, Elle,” he said.
“So you’re going to find your uncle alone?” Georgia asked. “We were supposed to go to Sacramento together!”
“That was before you got kidnapped by Slavers,” Elle pointed out. “And before we found Sector 27.”
“There’s nothing for us in Sacramento,” Georgia shrugged. “We’re as safe here as we’ll be there.” She looked at Jay. “Right?”
Jay stared at the table, the muscles in his arm tight.
“Right, Jay?” Georgia said again.
“I don’t care,” he replied. “We’re safe now. We’re alive.” He looked at Elle. “You need to do what you can to find your uncle. Family is important now more than ever.”
His eyes were dark, glinting with suppressed emotion. Sadness and anger and loneliness. Elle folded her hands on top of the table.
“I’m leaving tonight,” she said. “But first, I need to find Lieutenant Danes and tell him that I’m leaving.”
She stood up, and Bravo stood, too.
She smiled.
She would not be leaving this place alone.
Chapter Eleven
Elle stood on the outside of the chain link fence. Sector 27 was behind her. The mountains were before her. Bravo waited patiently at her side as she stared at Jay, Georgia and Flash. Lieutenant Danes hung back near the checkpoint, watching the scene with a curious expression on his face.
“I’m sorry,” Georgia said at last. “I would go with you, Elle, I really would…but I’m tired. Tired of walking, tired of fighting. Tired of getting kidnapped by maniacal sociopaths…” she cracked a wry smile. “I just want to be safe.”
“Behave yourself,” Elle advised. “No drug dealing, no cigarettes.”
“I’ll try,” Georgia laughed. “I’m going to miss you, shortstack.”
She crossed the distance between her and Elle, drawing her into a tight hug. She pulled away quickly, enough for Elle to see the tears in her eyes. Elle blinked – hard – and remained stoic.
“Goodbye, Elle,” Flash said. He nodded, reaching his hand out. He squeezed Elle’s fingers and bowed his head. “Thank you…for everything.”
“Don’t mention it,” Elle replied. “Seriously. Don’t.”
And then there was Jay. He stood there, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his dark skin glimmering against the early morning sun. He swallowed.
“Goodbye,” he said. He held out his hand.
Elle stared at it, her eyes darting back to his face, searching for some sign of humanity. For a sign of gratitude, maybe? For him to acknowledge that she had put everything on the line for this group’s survival – something that she had vowed never to do. It was a selfish desire. Elle knew this. But it didn’t change the fact. She wanted that simple validation before she left – from Jay more than anyone.
“It’s not goodbye,” Elle replied, shaking her head. “It’s just ‘see you later.’”
Jay lowered his hand, meeting her gaze.
“Yeah,” he said. “See you later.”
Elle shoved her thumbs against the straps of her backpack.
“Okay, then,” Elle said. “See you guys.”
“See you,” Flash answered.
“Yep.”
Jay suddenly took a step forward and folded Elle into a warm embrace. Georgia wrapped her arms around Elle from the side, and Flash joined in, too. It took Elle by surprise. She remained stiff for a moment, and then relaxed into the group hug. She felt a flood of warmth and happiness, of camaraderie and friendship. For the first time in her life, she felt loyalty.
The hug ended all too soon.
Georgia wiped her eyes, Flash sniffed, and Jay said:
“Thank you. None of us would be alive if you hadn’t been there for us. In Los Angeles. When the Slavers took us. You are the best friend any of us will ever have.”
Elle stared at him. She looked down, chewing on her lower lip, feeling dangerously close to crying. “Don’t just thank me,” she finally said. “Thank Bravo.”
“Bye, baby,” Georgia bawled, letting loose. She knelt down and hugged the dog, kissing his nose. “I’m going to miss you so much!”
“We all know who Georgia’s favorite is,” Jay commented.
He smiled.
“Yeah,” Elle answered. A pause, then, “We need to get going.”
Georgia got to her feet, wiping her tears away with the sleeve of her shirt.
“See you later,” she said.
“See you,” Flash added.
“See you soon,” Jay finished. “We will meet again.”
Elle lifted her chin.
“We will,” she told him. “Count on it.”
Bravo wagged his tail.
Lieutenant Danes waved from the fence, never moving, yet never taking his eyes off the group of kids. Elle lifted her left hand in a farewell wave, slipping her other hand into her pocket. She slid her aviators on her face, looking toward the mountains.
“See you,” she said one more time.
She was off again.
It didn’t take Elle long to reach the Central Valley. Her journey through the mountains was monotonous and tiring, filled with cold wind and brisk nighttime temperatures. She spent the silence of the journey talking to Bravo, reflecting on the past weeks and wondering how her life would have been different if she had never met Jay, Georgia, Flash and Pix.
“I’d probably still be in Los Angeles,” she mused. “I’d probably be dead.”
You’d definitely be dead, Bravo huffed. Without me, you wouldn’t last five minutes out here.
“Hey, I can take pretty good care of myself,” Elle retorted.
Pretty good is different than very good.
“You’re a cynic, dog.”
And proud of it, human.
Elle laughed.
The Central Valley was sunny and clear today. The mountains were behind Elle, rolling and beautiful in the light. She was getting close to her first stop.
Why are we stopping at a gas station again? Bravo wondered, casting a sideways glance at Elle. His eyes sparkled. Need I remind you that we don’t have a car and gas pumps don’t work anymore?
“You need not,” Elle replied. “I told you. I promised to finish my part of a trade.”
What kind of a trade? I hope it involves something for me.
“I don’t think people trade doggy toys anymore.”
You say that word like it’s degrading. Doggy toys are my favorite.
“Because you’re a dog.”
Thanks for noticing. I’m certainly not a cat. Bravo shook his head. This is it.
He stopped and stared at the small gas station in the distance. The general store was sitting in the open sunshine. It looked even more withered and faded since the last time Elle had seen it. Elle had amazed herself, coming back to this place. She had figured that she would bypass it, but the feeling of guilt that came along with that idea was overwhelming. She had made it across the desert and into the San Jacinto Mountains because of the supplies that she had taken from Bob and Sienna’s trading post. She had promised to bring them back a proper trade, and she had to stay true to that.
She didn’t want to be like the rest of the world.
She wanted to be good.
Elle approached the building from an angle, watching the windows, watching the roof. The area was silent. The road was empty. The dry plum orchards surrounding the station were abandoned.
I smell trouble, Bravo warned, brow furrowing
.
“What kind of trouble?” Elle whispered.
Don’t know. It just doesn’t smell right.
Elle licked her lips and they ran to the corner of the building, pausing near the drainpipe. There wasn’t a sound coming from within the building. Elle pulled the katana from its sheath. She rarely used this weapon – it was something she reserved for occasions when it was necessary to be as quiet as possible.
She held it steadily in her hands, keeping a firm grip on the handle. She tipped her head forward and Bravo jogged ahead, to the door. He paused, listening. His ears remained still.
Not a sound.
Elle frowned and walked to the door. She took a deep breath and banged her fist against the metal.
“Sienna?” she called. “Bob? It’s me. The girl with the sword?”
Nothing.
“I’m back,” Elle continued. “I brought you something to finish our trade.”
Still nothing.
Elle shrugged.
“I guess this is the part where we force our way in,” Elle said.
Finally. Some fun. Bravo tensed up, snorting. You first.
Elle jiggled the door handle. The handle itself was rusted and loose. Elle pushed on the door and it swung open, slamming against the interior wall. She and Bravo remained unmoving, staring into the dark building. There were only the shadowy shapes of shelves and refrigerator doors. Elle stepped over the threshold, keeping the katana up and ready to swing.
“Sienna?”
Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. She could see the note that she had left on the wall, in the dust, promising to return with a trade. Several of the shelves in the middle of the store had been overturned. Supplies like paper towels and plates had been dumped on the floor. The glass case built into the counter – the one holding cigarettes and lottery tickets – had been shattered. Shards of glass lay on the floor, twinkling as sunlight slid through the open doorway.
Danger, Bravo warned, growling. Be careful.
Elle looked toward the back of the building. The chair in which Bob had been sleeping last time was still there, and someone was sitting in it. Elle walked closer.
“Hey,” she said.
Again, there was no response.
It was a man. A baseball hat was pulled low over his face. Elle tapped his leg with the toe of her shoe. He didn’t move. She kicked the brim of the hat. It flew off the man’s head.