Seeds

by Chris Mandeville

  Tinker reached up and took a card from the visor. “This is the key,” he told Reid, inserting it into a slot on the dash then punching a sequence of numbers on a keypad. “Ready?” He pulled a lever and the car started moving, silent as air.

  They rolled down the driveway and onto the street.

  “This is amazing!” Reid grinned at Kayla, but she was staring out the window, her arm draped across Zeke’s back.

  “Only took me forty-some years to make it happen,” Tinker said. “I didn’t realize at first how much I’d have to overcome. I knew the electronic components were rendered useless by the solar event, but I figured it wouldn’t be long before I could get an older model car running, one that never had any electronics. Who knew that rubber would disintegrate and gasoline would turn to varnish in such a short time?”

  “I don’t understand how a bomb could change all that,” Reid said.

  “It was far more than the warhead. If I hadn’t found this Hummer and a stockpile of experimental tires, I’d still be messing around putting train wheels on a Volkswagen Beetle.”

  “A what?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Point is, after we found the warhead, we were poking around at Schriever trying to decide which vehicle to try it on when we found a whole lab full of Hummers. I thought I’d stroked out or was hallucinating. I mean, who’d have thought the Air Force would be developing ground vehicles? It was the last thing I expected to see, but there they were. The R and D guys were doing all sorts of modifications and experimental stuff. Near as I could figure, some of the motors were made to run on corn oil, others looked to have carburetors designed to work underwater. All manner of crazy stuff.”

  “A whole lab full of Hummers.” Reid’s thoughts cascaded with the possibilities. “How many of them work?”

  “None of them, at first. I thought it was because I didn’t have the code that went with the keycard. Let me tell you, I spent a few days trying to crack it, then your grandma came in and figured it out in five minutes.”

  “Oh, don’t make it sound like I’m some genius,” Sarah said. “I just found the list of passwords hidden behind a photograph.”

  “So you punched the code in and the car worked?” Reid asked.

  “There was a tad more to it,” Tinker said. “None of the Hummers were rigged for nuclear power because in the Before there was no way people would drive something powered by a nuke. The Russians had lighthouses powered by them, and even we used them for satellites, so it wasn’t an issue of scientific viability, it was fear.”

  “I can understand that,” Reid said.

  “Don’t be such a worrywart. The nuke’s shielded, and I disabled the part that makes it explode. Anyway, I messed around for a while trying to reconfigure the nuke as a power supply. After I found some NASA reports on the satellite nukes, I got this old beast purring like a kitten and drove right out of the lab.”

  “A few feet outside the lab, that is,” Sarah said.

  “Those goddamn tires!” Tinker pounded the steering wheel. “They’re the biggest challenge of all, disintegrating right out from under the wheels. Every single set I tried. Must have been hundreds of tires from all over the city. Could be from the radiation, or maybe exposure since the buildings haven’t been heated or cooled. Regardless, regular tires were never going to cut it.”

  “What did you do?” Reid asked.

  “We figured our only chance was if the Army had been developing something, so we risked being seen and went down to Fort Carson.”

  “I thought Vega’s father cleaned out Fort Carson long before I was born,” Reid said.

  “Yeah, of weapons and food and anything else he thought useful. But he didn’t think tires were useful, so there they were—stacks of tires made of plastic. And nothing lasts like plastic.”

  “And with those tires, then it worked?” Reid asked.

  “Like a dream.”

  “How many cars did you get running?”

  “Just this one. I didn’t want to build a whole fleet that could fall into Vega’s hands. But I documented how to do it, and we’ve got enough components to build a half-dozen more.”

  “I should have known you’d never stop trying, Pops.”

  “The day I got this one on the road felt like a hundred Christmases rolled into one. Driving is one of the things I miss most. Feels mighty good to be behind the wheel again.” Tinker’s grin made him look decades younger, and Reid could imagine what he’d looked like in the Before. “Hang on to your hat, kid—here’s the highway.”

  Reid wasn’t sure what he meant, but the next second his head slammed back against the seat. “Jesus, Pops!” Reid grabbed a handle above the door.

  “We’re only doing forty,” Tinker said. “Back in the day, I pushed seventy on this road.”

  “This is crazy.” Reid had never gone so fast. He wondered if Kayla was enjoying the ride, but she was asleep with her head against the window and Zeke pressed against her side.

  He looked back at Tinker, impressed how he handled the vehicle, weaving through the other cars.

  “Dear?” Sarah called. “Stop squirreling around and go down the shoulder. You’re making me sick back here.”

  “There’s one operational car in the whole damn universe,” Tinker grumbled. “And it has a backseat driver.”

  Eighteen

  Port Townsend, Washington

  Nikolai’s mouth watered at the spread. There was so much food, the usual buffet table had to be doubled to hold everything. Josh was in top form, working the room with a tray of champagne goblets. He grinned at Nikolai, and Nikolai saluted, thankful the chocolate and the swim had healed all.

  Cook was still nowhere to be found. Olexi probably knew where she was, but he’d been scarce too. Nikolai scanned the partygoers for them now, paying particular attention to the area where the band was playing, as Olexi was apt to break out his harmonica once the green serpent of drink found him.

  He finally spotted Cook and Olexi at the edge of the dance floor. With Kennedy.

  Cook was batting her eyelashes at the young bourgeois, laying it on thick, swishing her orange gown and leaning forward to show her cleavage. Olexi gazed at her with rapt adoration, even though she was peacocking for someone else. Nikolai was making his way over when someone grabbed his elbow.

  “Niko, darling.” Corinne was bejeweled collar to toe in rhinestones so thick the silver fabric that held them was barely visible.

  “Mother, you look gorgeous.” He bussed her cheek.

  “It’s time for the toast, dear. Will you do the honors?”

  “Happy to,” Nikolai said, thankful she’d asked him and not someone more longwinded. The aroma of the buffet had him giddy with hunger, and all that stood between him and a full plate was a few of his own spare remarks.

  The guests parted for them as they crossed the room. Corinne, ever the gracious host, murmured hellos and nodded, while Nikolai, ever the dutiful son, followed, grabbing two goblets of champagne as they approached the staircase.

  They ascended to the first landing and faced the hushed room.

  “Friends, welcome!” Corinne said, extending her arms to encompass everyone. “Grab a glass, gather round, and share a toast before we eat.”

  Nikolai handed Corinne a glass of champagne. When the room quieted again, he raised his glass for the customary first toast. “To the cooks!” he said, looking right at Finola.

  “To the cooks!” the crowd repeated.

  Nikolai sipped and was impressed by the tart flavor, as tasty as the best champagne he’d had. When he looked again, Finola was gone. Maybe her mother had told her about the incident with Josh, or maybe Olexi had finally worn her down and they were headed off to enjoy a passionate goodbye. More likely, she’d simply left, too worried about Tatiana and Will to enjoy the party. That’s what Nikolai would like to do, but he continued with his duties.

  “To the fishermen and the apple growers!” he called. “To the sommeliers and the wine!” This met with
lots of cheers. “And to Corinne!”

  “To Corinne,” the crowd roared.

  Corinne reveled in the adoration, but only for a moment. “The buffet is . . . open!”

  Nikolai escorted her to the buffet and filled their plates with the items she wanted. After leaving her in a wingback chair in front of the fireplace, he went to the veranda to eat alone.

  After a few bites, he found he didn’t have an appetite after all. He set down his plate, frustrated by the empty hours ahead waiting for Kennedy. Leaning his forehead against a pillar, he groaned aloud—something he’d never do in front of his crew.

  “Captain, is it so terrible?” a soft voice asked.

  A smile crept across his face. “Ekaterina. It’s been a long time.”

  “Too long.” She was radiant in a strapless white dress that showed more of her silky skin than it covered. Her feet were bare, something indescribably more attractive to Nikolai than the sexiest of high heels. She tiptoed and draped her arms around his neck. “My poor Captain. So sad. Maybe Ekaterina can help?”

  Nineteen

  Manitou Springs, Colorado

  Reid flopped over in bed, too worried to sleep. Earlier at dinner, they’d been planning their trip to Ellay, when Kayla went pale and ran out covering her mouth. Reid had started after her, but his grandmother stopped him and went herself. He could hear Kayla retching outside. Was it something she’d eaten? No one else was sick.

  Botulism from the canned food was a remote though deadly possibility. Ordinary food poisoning was less rare—a few cases each year caused by improperly cleaned rats—but still he was concerned.

  He told himself Kayla would be fine, that his grandmother was right—Kayla had nothing more than a case of exhaustion. It did make sense. Kayla had just lost her husband and sister, and on top of that had killed Beckum and Vasquez. Now she couldn’t go back to the only home she’d ever known. The fatigue and stress had simply caught up with her. He wished he could comfort her, tell her it would all be okay. But he wouldn’t go to her. He’d made a promise.

  He rolled over and tried to ignore the familiar ache of empty arms.

  There was a click. His door opened.

  “It’s me,” Kayla whispered, closing the door softly behind her.

  He sat up. “Feeling better?”

  “Shhhh.” She put her finger to her lips as she approached.

  “I’ve been worried—”

  “Shh. Don’t say anything.” She pressed her hand against his bare chest, and he shivered as he eased back against the pillow. She stared at him a moment, then slid under the covers.

  Her legs were cool against his as she settled beside him. She rested her hand on his shoulder and he felt her tremble.

  “Kay?” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand but felt no tears. She smelled of soap and toothpaste.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t talk.”

  She kissed him.

  Reid’s eyes widened. He didn’t resist, he let her kiss him. She pulled back and kissed his cheek, his neck.

  “Kayla.”

  “Don’t.” She kissed him again, pressing her body against his, gripping his shoulder. “Kiss me,” she whispered against his lips.

  When she kissed him again, he pulled her closer, kissing her back. Gently, sweetly. Hardly daring to believe it was happening. She’d come to him. She wanted him.

  Her breathing came faster and she kissed him harder, grabbing him by the hair, biting his lip. He turned her onto her back and kissed her neck. She moaned and arched against him. His fingers found the bottom of her shirt, and he pulled it up, skimming her nipple with his knuckles. She helped him pull the shirt over her head. Then he saw the look on her face.

  “Kayla.”

  She opened her eyes. Tears streamed out the corners and down her temples.

  “Kay, what are you doing?”

  “You, you smell like him.”

  “God, I’m sorry,” he said, rolling onto his back.

  “It’s not your fault. I thought I could . . . I tried . . . but I can’t.”

  Reid stared at the ceiling, his cheeks burning. “Why would you do that?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “So tell me.”

  She sat up, clutching her shirt in front of her. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She looked at him for a long moment then whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  She got up and left without looking back.

  Twenty

  Manitou Springs, Colorado

  After a fitful sleep, Reid woke before dawn and lay in bed trying not to replay what had happened with Kayla. Everything felt mixed up and wrong. Like he’d been betrayed, but also like he was the betrayer.

  When Kayla kissed him, he’d allowed himself to hope she could have feelings for him. For him, not Brian. He’d let his guard down. Now he was kicking himself for being so weak, so foolish. And on top of it all, he hadn’t found out what had happened to Brian.

  When it was finally light enough, he went for a walk to clear his head. The air was cool for summer, and he set a brisk pace to keep warm. He tried to see things from Kayla’s perspective. What had she been thinking?

  Maybe it was as simple as being held. Wanting to feel alive.

  Allie.

  He’d forgotten about the thing with Allie. She and his friend Nolan were definitely a love match, but Nolan had died when they were on brevet. Doc thought it was meningitis and said that even if he’d been at the Mountain there was nothing they could have done.

  He remembered how shaken he’d been over Nolan’s death, and that was nothing compared to how Allie took it. She wouldn’t eat, talk, or leave her room. People wondered if she’d ever recover. Then one night she came to him. At first they held each other, then she kissed him. She kept wanting more, saying she needed to feel alive. He felt it too, like it was reawakening a part of his soul. After that night, they were never together again and never said a word about it. Later she was matched with Nolan’s cousin and seemed okay, even happy.

  That had to be it. Kayla needed to feel something again. It didn’t have anything to do with him, but he’d been too blinded by his own desires to see it. He’d handled it all wrong.

  What if she came to him again? He wanted to be there for her, but he’d loved her ever since he could remember. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to make love to her without hoping for more.

  He returned to the house, wishing he’d come up with some sort of plan.

  Inside, it was quiet. He headed for the stairs, hoping to sneak back to bed.

  “Good morning,” his grandmother’s voice sang out from the kitchen.

  “Morning,” he called over his shoulder.

  “You have a nice walk?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come here. This shouting is for the birds.”

  Reid wondered if he should protest and head for his room, but he knew his grandmother wouldn’t let it go. She’d end up making a fuss and eventually get him to spill his guts, so he headed for the kitchen.

  “What can I fix you?” Sarah asked, drying her hands. “Kayla’s drinking herbal tea, but I can make coffee.”

  Reid glanced at Kayla sitting at the table with her hands wrapped around a mug. She looked away. His cheeks burned. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked back at his grandmother who was still talking.

  “We’ve got oatmeal packets. I remember how you like those.”

  “Nothing, thanks. I’m not hungry.”

  Zeke stirred under the table, readjusting his head on Kayla’s foot.

  Kayla stared at her tea, refusing to look at him. He felt like such a jerk. He knew he should say something, but he had no idea what.

  “Well, if you’re not going to eat, go see your grandpa,” Sarah said. “He’s in the garage. He wants to teach you to drive this morning.”

  “That’s great,” Reid said, perking up.

  “Kayla, you should go, too,” Sarah urged.

  Reid couldn’t he
lp it—his whole body tensed. He needed some space to pull himself together.

  “I don’t think so.” Kayla dropped her gaze back to her mug.

  Reid was relieved, but immediately felt guilty. He was sure she’d seen his reaction. “Kay, come if you want.” He needed space, but not at the expense of making her feel even worse.

  She looked up again. Her eyes were sad, but she smiled. “Thanks, but I’ll stay.”

  Reid headed for the garage, trying to convince himself they’d get past this.

  After his driving lesson, Reid found Kayla throwing a stick. She’d toss it across the yard, then Zeke would bring it back.

  “What’s he doing?” Reid asked, fascinated.

  “I never would have thought of it, but your grandma suggested it. Zeke seems to like it.” Kayla threw the stick again.

  There was an uncomfortable silence while Reid debated what to say. He decided to avoid the topic. “Driving is incredible. I can’t get over how fast you can go. Pops said he already taught you. Said you’re a natural.”

  Kayla shrugged. She took the stick from Zeke’s mouth and threw it again.

  “Still, practice can’t hurt,” he said. “You want to go out this afternoon? We can drive all we want before dark.”

  Kayla shook her head.

  It was going to be a long drive to California if things stayed this way between them. He decided to face it head on. “Look, I’m sorry about last night—”

  “Forget it.” She hucked the stick again.

  “No, we should talk, get it sorted out before we leave.”

  “I’m not going.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not going with you.” She met his gaze briefly then headed toward the house.

  “What? Why?” he called.

  She didn’t answer.

  Zeke dropped the stick and trotted after Kayla.

  At the house, Kayla held the door as Zeke slipped inside. She hesitated a moment, staring at Reid, then went in.

  What did she want from him? What was he supposed to do? He wanted to make things right, but she sure wasn’t making it easy.