Seeds

by Chris Mandeville

  “Are you going to lie down?” she asked.

  “I guess I’d better.”

  “Would you like for me to lie down with you?”

  “That would be really nice, but,” he looked around. “We won’t have much privacy.”

  “Everyone’s asleep, or soon will be,” she said, raising one eyebrow.

  “Good,” he said, stretching out on the bag. “Whoa, dizzy,” he said, holding his head. “I think I’m getting a headache, too.”

  “Hungover already?” She giggled, kneeling beside him.

  “Is there water? That might help.”

  “I’ll get some. Don’t go anywhere.” She gave him a quick kiss and disappeared into the darkness.

  He couldn’t have her stay with him, but he didn’t know how to get rid of her without arousing suspicion. If a pretty girl wanted to lie down with you, you didn’t send her away, no matter how drunk you were. There was no way to get out of it.

  Unless he passed out.

  Reid left his boots and belt on and flopped face down on the sleeping bag, head halfway off the pillow. He closed his eyes and hung his mouth open, breathing slow and loud. He hoped she’d fall for it. With any luck she’d leave the water and go.

  After a few moments of pretending, Reid started to worry he’d actually fall asleep, then he felt a hand on his back.

  “Reid?”

  He tried not to alter his breathing.

  “Reid, I’m back,” she said, so close he could feel the heat of her breath. “You’re not asleep are you?” She flicked her tongue around his ear.

  He stayed still, hoping she’d give up.

  “Wake up, lover,” she said, shaking his arm. “Reid,” she said louder.

  He kept his breathing rhythmic, allowing a snore to rattle in his throat.

  “He’s out,” Irma said.

  “Think he’ll stay passed out until morning?”

  Domingo.

  “Are you serious?” Irma said. “He’s sopped. I can’t believe he didn’t pass out sooner. I thought I was going to have to lie down with him.”

  “No way, baby. We couldn’t have that. I hate the fact that you even had to kiss him. Those lips are mine.”

  Reid heard them kissing. He hoped the part about him being her uncle had been a lie. He snored again. Why didn’t they leave?

  “Let’s go to bed,” Irma said, her voice husky.

  “We can’t leave them. El Jefe would be pissed.”

  “We’ll come back at dawn and no one will know the difference. Please?” Irma whined. “I promise, they’re so out of it, they won’t even move.”

  Reid heard feet shuffle away, but continued pretending to sleep. His heart was beating so fast, there was no chance he’d fall asleep now. He listened for at least five minutes, but there was no movement in the room, no sound other than snores and sleepy groans. He rolled to his back, snuffling and pretending to snore while he opened his eyes the tiniest slit. As far as he could tell, he was the only one conscious.

  He opened his eyes wider and glanced around, then sat up. Good, she left the water. He grabbed the glass bottle from the table, took off the cap, and drained a third of it. Swaying a little for effect, he took a good look around the room. There was a couple passed out in a pile in the corner. A woman was asleep on her arms at a table as Tinker had been. And the man laid out on the bench hadn’t budged. This was as good as it was going to get.

  “Pops, wake up,” Reid said in his ear.

  Tinker didn’t move.

  They didn’t have time for this. Reid covered Tinker’s mouth and plugged his nose. After what seemed like a full minute, Tinker’s eyes shot open and he struggled, trying to yell. Reid muffled the sound the best he could.

  “Shh,” Reid said close to Tinker’s face so Tinker could see it was him. “Don’t make a sound.” He let go of Tinker’s mouth.

  Tinker sat up, taking several deep breaths. “What the hell you doing?” he whispered.

  “They’re going to kill us. Do you have the key?”

  “It’s in the car.”

  “I hope you’re right. Can you walk?”

  Despite Tinker’s assurance he could, Reid put his arm around him and helped him out of the room. Together they stumbled more or less quietly out of the building. Once outside, Reid kept to the shadows and moved as quickly as Tinker could manage.

  When they reached the car, they were both breathing hard. Reid got Tinker into the backseat, then climbed behind the steering wheel, thanking all the gods that the car wasn't under guard. He reached to punch the code into the keypad and froze. The keycard was missing.

  “Who’s there?” a voice called.

  Reid looked up. A man approached, pointing a gun.

  “Pops, where’s the key?”

  “Sin the miser,” Tinker mumbled.

  “What?”

  “The visor.”

  Reid pulled down the visor, grabbed the card, and shoved it into the reader. His hand shook as he entered the code.

  “Hey, who is that?” the man called. “You in the car, let me see your face.”

  Reid pressed the start button, but nothing happened. “Shit!” He panicked, pushing the button again and again. “Start, goddamn it, start.”

  The man was almost to the passenger door. Reid pushed the button that locked the doors, then punched in the code again. He jabbed the start button once more and the engine came alive just as the man grabbed for the door.

  “Get out now or I shoot.” The muzzle of the gun was pressed against the window.

  Reid slammed the car in gear and pressed the pedal to the floor. The car lurched forward. The gun fired. But there was no sound of breaking glass.

  “Come on, come on, faster,” Reid urged the Hummer. His breath was still coming hard, and sweat made his hands slick on the steering wheel.

  “They’re getting away!” the man shouted.

  A barrage of bullets pelted the car, but the metal and glass held. Reid risked a glance back. Tinker was still slumped across the backseat where Reid had tossed him.

  “Pops! Pops, you okay?”

  “Mmmm.” He sounded drunk, not shot.

  The gunfire receded into the distance as the Hummer gained speed. He’d done it. He’d saved them. They’d made it out alive.

  Reid’s breathing slowed and he wiped his palms on his jeans, but he kept the pedal to the floor long after the light from the church had vanished from the rearview mirror.

  Thirty-Six

  Pacific Ocean, aboard the Emancipation

  The boat had been under repair for twenty-four hours, and every one of those hours had taken its toll on Nikolai. After all his concern about the Emancipation’s maiden voyage, the delay was due to his own arrogance and impatience. He vowed to stay in his quarters for the rest of the trip, no matter how badly he wanted to know the status of the repairs, no matter how bored he got.

  At least Finola was sending him food. He tried to take comfort that perhaps she was approaching forgiveness for whatever she thought he’d done, but he suspected she simply felt sorry for him. Olexi hadn’t even been to see him. Not that he blamed him. He’d behaved like a zhopa. It was best he keep to himself.

  He turned to pace the familiar route when there was a loud knock on the hatch.

  He froze. Was it Olexi? Finola? Kennedy? He realized he didn’t want to see any of them. Maybe they’d go away.

  There was a second knock.

  “The captain would like to see you,” a voice called.

  Nikolai hung his head. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, he was being summoned for further humiliation.

  Another knock. “Are you coming?”

  Nikolai sighed. He deserved the scolding. He opened the door to find Kennedy’s lackey, Mike, pity and accusation painted across his face. Nikolai nodded, not meeting his eye.

  Mike led him forward to Kennedy’s office and issued two brisk knocks at the open door.

  Kennedy looked up from his desk. “T
hank you for coming, Captain Petrov. Do you take coffee or tea?”

  “Tea.” Nikolai liked Kennedy more than he liked coffee.

  “Mike, ask Cook for a pot, would you? Anything but swamp tea.”

  Mike nodded and left.

  “That swamp tea tastes as bad as coffee.” Kennedy motioned for Nikolai to enter.

  “Worse, if that’s possible,” Nikolai said, taking a seat. “Cook swears the mere smell of it eases seasickness, but I think it causes more ills than it cures.”

  “She does have interesting remedies.” Kennedy smiled. “But that’s not why I asked you here. The other day—”

  “It won’t happen again. You have my word.” Nikolai’s cheeks burned and he fidgeted in his chair. Though Kennedy had every right to chastise him, Nikolai wished he’d get it over with.

  “Actually, I wanted to apologize.”

  “What?”

  “For making you uncomfortable at dinner. When you found out Tati and I are living together.”

  Nikolai looked down at his hands. He was a guest on this boat, and had already violated that relationship in the worst way. He would keep his mouth shut.

  “But that’s not why I asked you here,” Kennedy continued. “Our repairs are complete and we’ll be crossing into California waters soon, so the time is ripe to discuss the pirates.”

  At the thought of his daughter in the hands of pirates, Nikolai’s contriteness evaporated. He gritted his teeth and dug his fingernails into his palms, trying to keep the pressure inside from blowing. “How could you?” he growled.

  “Pardon?”

  “How could you let Tatiana go down there? You had to know it was a bad idea.”

  “Let her go?” Kennedy chuckled. The bastard actually laughed. “Do you know your daughter at all? Because if you did, you’d know I don’t let her do anything.”

  “Then why didn’t you go with her?”

  “Tati insisted I stay behind to tend to other things, and I knew she was in good hands. Will said he had everything under control.”

  “Will said? Will said?” Nikolai slammed his palms against the desk, enjoying the start he gave Kennedy. “My son, God love him, has an over-inflated sense of his abilities. In other words, he’s a cocky little shit who doesn’t know what he’s doing. And you entrusted Tatiana to him, so that both of my children could sail right into Pirate Central. What were you thinking?” Nikolai knew he’d crossed the line of decorum, but he didn’t care. “Have you no sense at all? If you couldn’t stop them, why didn’t you come to me?”

  “I did. When they hadn’t returned two weeks ago, I asked Creighton to approach you on my behalf, but I heard nothing until you showed up at the office.”

  “That’s because Creighton couldn’t be bothered to tell me,” Nikolai said through gritted teeth. He splayed his hands on the desktop and leaned toward Kennedy. “Creighton is a lying sack who cares only about himself. I found out that Will and Tatiana were missing through happenstance—a spontaneous trip to Corinne’s. When I got there, my own mother—another shining example of self-centeredness—didn’t bother to tell me my daughter had a boyfriend, much less that it was you, and that you were living together!” Spit flew from Nikolai’s lips as he shouted the last word inches from Kennedy’s face.

  “As I said, I apologize for the way you learned about us,” Kennedy said, holding his ground. “I’d planned to address the matter differently.”

  “So tell me now. What are your intentions with my daughter?”

  “Captain Petrov, I love your daughter. She’s smart and impetuous and beautiful. She has grand, grand plans that would seem preposterous coming from anyone else, but she makes them sound reasonable, possible. She makes me believe in them, too.”

  Kennedy paused. Nikolai glared, willing the jerk to burst into flames.

  “What I’m saying is,” Kennedy continued. “Tati’s hopes and dreams have become my hopes and dreams. We’re going to re-settle Sausalito and eventually San Francisco, too, with a government based on the real U.S. Constitution. Tati has taken up her mother’s plans—trade relations with other economies, and real farming with more than just apples. That’s why she had to go south.”

  “Does no one have any sense at all?” Nikolai couldn’t understand why his otherwise intelligent daughter would risk her life on a theory disproved years ago. “My wife was wrong. There are no seed banks in Southern California. Tatiana knows that as well as anyone.”

  “She uncovered new evidence that a seed vault exists. Evidence you and your late wife never saw. I know Tati will find seeds and bring them back, so we can provide hope and a future for our children.”

  “Your what?” Nikolai reached across the desk and grabbed Kennedy by the front of his shirt. “Don’t tell me she’s—”

  “No, but we want children. What I’m trying to say, sir, is that Tati and I want to get married and have a family, and we’d like your blessing.”

  Nikolai shoved Kennedy back into the chair. “No fucking way.”

  Thirty-Seven

  Holbrook, Arizona

  Reid woke mid-morning, stiff and achy in the driver’s seat. His mouth was cottony and his bladder full. He stretched the kink in his neck, but nothing would fix the dull pounding behind his temples, except finding water.

  Tinker snored, sprawled half-hanging off the back seat. His grandfather was going to feel a lot worse than Reid did.

  “Pops, wake up.” Reid got out of the car and the door fell shut.

  “Oooh,” Tinker moaned.

  “Sorry,” Reid called from where he was pissing on the tire of another car.

  “What the hell’d you do to me? I feel more dead than alive.”

  “The good news is you’re not dead. You’re dehydrated. We need to find water. The bastards didn’t leave us anything.”

  “Bastards. So why’d we stop here?”

  Reid hated having to tell him. “I put as much distance behind us as I could, but then something happened. I don’t know what I did, but the Hummer won’t go fast anymore.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. See, the faster you go, the more battery it uses. When you got my sorry butt outta that lion’s den, you must’ve put the pedal to the metal and used up the juice faster than the nuke could replenish it. When the battery level drops below a certain point, the car’s programmed to go into limp-along mode while the battery recharges.”

  “Thank God,” Reid said, relieved he hadn’t broken it.

  “So where in blazes are we?”

  “Outside a town called Holbrook. I figured parking at this junkyard with the other cars would be good camouflage. I didn’t see any signs of life, but it was the middle of the night. There could be people here.”

  “How far are we from those bastards in Albuquerque?”

  Reid leaned in the driver’s window and looked at the control panel. “A little over two hundred miles. Good thing, too. They were so riled up, I’m sure they’d do more than shoot us if they caught us.”

  “Seems I recall some kind of shooting.” Tinker stretched his legs across the backseat.

  “Yeah, they fired off some shots.” Reid fingered a pockmark on the back of the Hummer. “We got lucky.”

  “So they were gonna kill us and use the Hummer in their little war, huh? I screwed the pooch on that one.”

  “You wanted to believe them.”

  “I’m damn grateful you got me outta there, son. I really am. But you’ve got to promise me—if there’s a next time that I get stupid and get myself into trouble, don’t stick around for me. Get the hell outta Dodge.”

  “No way, Pops. I wouldn’t leave you.”

  “I’m an old man. It’s been a good life, but there’s no denying I’m at the tail end. You and Kayla have your whole lives ahead. You gotta get back to her and that baby. Don’t risk that, not for me, not for anything.”

  “Let’s make sure it doesn’t come to that. What do you say we stay away from any place that looks inhabited till we get to El
lay?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Tinker said. “Jesus H. Christ, my head hurts something fierce.”

  “You need water. Think you’re up to taking a walk, old man?”

  “Better than dying here.” Tinker got out of the backseat, groaning. “The goddamn sun’s too bright and those goddamn bastards didn’t even leave me a goddamn ball cap.”

  They walked down the gravel-strewn road toward Holbrook. Reid hoped there’d be no one there to greet them, and it occurred to him that in Ellay people might not be any more hospitable than in Albuquerque.

  “Hey, Pops? The stranger—Cumorah—she didn’t tell me anything about the City of Angels or why she left. Her people might not be . . . friendly.”

  “I don’t recall folks from Ellay ever being what I’d call friendly.”

  “Something must have been pretty bad for her to leave a place with grown food, especially alone and on foot.”

  “She didn’t say anything?” Tinker asked. “No detail that might help us make a plan?”

  Reid thought back, trying to remember. Had it only been a few days? It felt like weeks. “When I asked where she got the apple, she wouldn’t tell me. I had to hear her confession first.”

  “Did she confess anything that might help?”

  “She said she came to Colorado because she couldn’t get pregnant and she believed that praying at Garden of the Gods would cure her.”

  “Anything else?”

  “She was adamant about one thing—Zeke is not meat. She repeated it several times and made me promise to protect him. She loved that dog.”

  “What about the monkeys? You’re sure that’s what she said?”

  “She talked about their leader gathering up animals of every kind in the Before. I know she said monkeys right along with chickens and cows. She did say something weird about there not being any birds, that they had to be sacrificed to keep the secret.”

  “But she said they had chickens?”

  “Yeah, a lot of what she said didn’t make sense. It was lucky I recognized ‘City of Angels’ from your stories or I’d have assumed she was having a near-death hallucination.”

  “The real luck was finding that dog. That woman could have died within feet of you without you ever knowing she was there.”