From Here to You

by McGuire, Jamie

  I flushed the toilet again, closed the lid, washed my hands, and brushed my teeth for a second time. The clock on the nightstand read noon. No wonder Stavros was surprised I’d just woken up, and no wonder I was so sick. I had to feed Bean.

  I got dressed and walked down the hall, hoping there was still food left over from breakfast. As soon as I rounded the corner, I smelled it. Greasy, cheesy pizza. The hotshots were hovering around long, rectangular tables covered with one pizza box after another.

  “Darby,” Zeke called.

  “What’s all this?” I asked.

  “Lunch, compliments of the City of Colorado Springs. Hungry?”

  “Starving,” I said. “Can I really?”

  “Yeah,” he said, leading me to the tables. He grabbed a plate and put it in my hands, the Styrofoam feeling flimsy in my hands. “Are you a pepperoni fan? There’s one with mushrooms, too…but…gross. We got sausage. We got Hawaiian.” I made a face, and he laughed. “Supreme?”

  I nodded. “And pepperoni. With mushrooms, please.”

  Zeke’s smile faded, and he loaded my plate like he disapproved of my choice, and then walked me to a table. “Water or soda?”

  “Water, but you don’t have to…”

  Before I could protest, Zeke was already halfway across the room, greeting his crew as they passed. Zeke returned, sitting next to me with a bottle of water. To his chagrin, another hotshot sat next to me, too.

  “Who’s this?” he asked.

  “Darby. Go away,” Zeke grumbled.

  I took a bite, ignoring their spat. In that moment, the pizza and only the pizza was important.

  “Randon Watts,” Zeke’s friend said, holding out his hand. I didn’t take it, instead shoving a big bite in my mouth.

  “She’s eating, Watts. Leave her alone.”

  Watts chuckled, watching me with amusement. “Like a champ. Is she training for a pizza-eating contest?”

  Zeke turned his attention to me, his eyebrows shooting up. I was one slice down and starting on the second one.

  “Are you from here?” Watts asked. He had the hotshot beard, but his dark sideburns and about two inches of the hair above his ears were shaved, all the way to the other ear. The hair on top was longer. He watched me with the familiar spark of desire in his dark eyes, even as I shoved food into my face.

  I shook my head, chewing. Mama would have grabbed my face until I spat the food out, forcing me to start over and eat like a lady…even now. But Mama’s priority was Frank and his son, and my priority was Bean. It didn’t matter if I behaved as a lady, or if she forgave me for taking Dad away from her, or for taking her only son, the light of her life—and mine—my little brother, Chase. My sins before were no longer important, or even if I made things right. Bean was my salvation in more ways than one.

  “No,” I said, taking another bite. I imagined I looked like someone marooned on a deserted island for a decade, chewing quickly and checking my surroundings like a wild animal.

  Watts raised an eyebrow. “Okay, then. I’ll just go check in with Chief.”

  “You do that,” Zeke murmured. When Watts left, Zeke turned to me. “I’m sorry about that.” He handed me a napkin.

  I used it, swallowing the last bite of pizza before I spoke. “Why are you sorry?”

  “I know you don’t like people bugging you, and it seems like every time we talk, one of the guys tries to be funny. They’re just giving me a hard time.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Because I’m talking to a pretty girl, I guess. I don’t really…date.”

  “This isn’t a date.”

  “No, I know,” he said, fumbling for words that might save him. “It doesn’t matter how many times I explain. They enjoy it.”

  “They enjoy giving you a hard time? Why don’t you date?”

  “I haven’t since…Damn, this is weird.”

  I turned to face him, wiping my mouth one last time. “Only if you’re a serial killer or something.”

  “What? No. Nothing like that. It’s just…my ex…we’d been dating since the eighth grade. We broke up not long after I joined the Alpines a couple of years ago.”

  “Oh,” I said. The part of me that had been trying so hard not to care was failing. The look in Zeke’s eyes brought to the surface something I’d buried deep inside. It doesn’t matter how someone disappears from your life. Whether it’s death or hate or something in between, loss is loss. “And you haven’t dated since?”

  “Once or twice. Nothing’s stuck.”

  “Well,” I said, gathering our empty plates and dirty napkins. “It wasn’t you.”

  “It was the job. It was a lot of things,” he said.

  “Still not you.” I patted him on the shoulder with my free hand before heading toward the trash can.

  “We still on for a movie?” he asked.

  I paused. “Uh…I work three to eleven until next week. When I start my regular shift, I can.”

  “What is your regular shift?”

  “Nights. Eleven to seven.”

  “Ouch. Well, I think we go out tomorrow morning. We’ll catch one when I get back.”

  I remembered what Stavros said about some of the men not coming back. I tossed the trash into the bin and returned to Zeke. He stood, and I hugged him. He wrapped his arms around my middle and squeezed me tight. Having another man’s arms around me felt strange, and for half a second, an old worry surfaced. Shawn wouldn’t see. He had no idea, and he never would. I tightened my grip around Zeke’s neck and then released him, looking up into his eyes. “You be careful out there.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, a satisfied grin on his face.

  I returned to my room, gathering the few dirty clothes I had, and taking them to the laundry. The large room full of washers and dryers and folding tables was just a few doors down from my room, and the staff eyed me as I took my things to an empty machine.

  “Is this okay?” I asked the woman closest to me. She was about Mama’s age, with bronzed skin and dark wrinkles around her mouth, the kind smokers get. One of her front teeth was bordered with gold, and her dark, frizzy hair easily escaped from the banana clip in her hair.

  “You’re the new girl?” she asked, with a thick Mexican accent.

  I nodded.

  “Go ahead,” she said, nodding to the washer in front of me. “Be back in fifteen minutes.”

  “Thank you,” I said, tossing in the clothes and then looking around for detergent.

  The woman handed me a pastel pink bottle. “Goes here, like this,” she said, pulling out the soap bin. She showed me where to pour the detergent, then she shut the bin and showed me which buttons to push.

  “Thank you so much,” I said. “What’s your name?” I glanced down to her badge. She covered the name, Ann, before speaking. “Sylvia.” She pointed to the others. “Juana, Maria, and that’s my daughter, Rosa.”

  “Nice to meet you. All of you. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

  “You’re the one staying in one hundred?” Sylvia asked.

  “I am.”

  “I can tidy it up for you. If you’d like.”

  “Oh, that’s so nice. I think it’s okay for now.”

  “You sure?”

  I nodded. “I’ll be right back.” I pushed out the door and rushed to my room, using the key before shoving at the door. I couldn’t get to the bathroom fast enough. The smell of the detergent made me instantly nauseous. I stood in front of the toilet, trying to calm my stomach, but with uncontrollable force, my stomach heaved, and all the greasy pizza I’d just inhaled projected from my mouth and splashed so hard in the toilet, the water splashed my face.

  Once it was over, I sat with my back against the wall, the floor feeling wonderfully cool beneath my backside. As soon as my clothes were finished, I was going to take another nap, try to eat again, and then go to work. All I wanted to do was to lie down and close my eyes and sleep until this part of the pregnancy was over. I touched my
stomach and spoke aloud: “Give me a break, Bean. Please? I’m trying my best.”

  Chapter Nine

  Trex

  The sun was barely peeking over the mountains when I pulled next to the first security stop at the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Gerald, the first-shift security for Gate One, nervously scanned my badge and gestured for me to move on.

  The two miles of gravel road that led to the second gate were bordered with a twelve-foot fence topped with spiraled barbed wire and guarded by armed security every two hundred yards. The men and women were dressed in fatigues and carried semiautomatic weapons. It made me wonder if this was a haven for the warworn, or a place for someone with a higher calling to waste their talents.

  Like my team, for example.

  Karen cleared me for Gate Two. A traffic arm barrier raised, and metal spikes retreated into the ground. I drove my ’78 Toyota Land Cruiser past an outer parking lot and administration building to approach the third gate and then the entrance, a short man-made tunnel poking out from the mountain with CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN COMPLEX in white painted metal letters at the top. I drove through, into the darkness, past the warning signs to follow the two-lane and signs that led to the designated parking for our department.

  I was the first of the team to arrive, and I parked my truck in the center of five other empty spots.

  The engine sputtered and died once I twisted back the key, and I sat alone, thinking about my night with Darby. Even after I turned in, I slept like shit. The thoughts in my head were too loud to sleep. I jumped out and pulled my pack from the back seat.

  Once my team arrived, we walked into the Complex together, chatting about our evening. I tried to stay out of the conversation, but Naomi pegged me before I could finish the combination on my locker.

  “You’re quiet, T-Rex. What’s up?”

  “Me? Nah.”

  Martinez turned to look at me. “Spill it.”

  “I’m just…uh,” I sighed. “I’m staying at the hotel for now. Looking for a place. There’s all these forestry crews there for the fire. The Maddox twins are two of them.”

  “The guys you were investigating for the feds?” Naomi asked. “They giving you trouble? Give me two hours. It’ll look like a murder-suicide.”

  “Slow your roll, Nomes. Let’s get settled before you start a killing spree. They’re good guys. The whole family, really. They’ve been cool. It’s not them.”

  “Who is it?” Sloan asked. “Because you’re vexed.”

  “Vexed? What the fuck, Sloan?” Martinez said.

  “Shut up, man. It’s okay to not dumb everything down all the time,” Sloan snapped.

  “You sayin’ you need to dumb it down for me?” Martinez asked, taking a step forward.

  “It’s a girl,” I blurted out.

  “A…what?” Naomi asked.

  “A woman. She’s the new front desk clerk at the hotel. She’s like a runaway bride. She bounced right before promising the rest of her life to her scumbag abusive fiancé. But he’s military. She’s sworn off us all.”

  “Well, that’s just stupid,” Naomi said. “Like any large group, you’re going to have your heroes and your villains. My husband lived and breathed the Marines, and he was the best man on the planet, next to you.”

  “That he was,” I said, taking a moment to miss my friend. He’d had a wife at home who he loved more than any of us, yet he jumped on that grenade without a second thought. I strived every day to deserve that.

  “Hey,” Naomi said, touching my cheek. “Get out of there.” She slapped me once and then held her hand against the place she’d just assaulted. Naomi did that a lot, only hitting me hard enough to bring me back to the present. She touched my shoulder like Abrams used to do. “It happened. It’s the way he wanted it. Come back to the present.”

  I nodded, turning away from her to put my things in my locker.

  “Hey, Nomes. Look at that,” Martinez said. He pointed up, seeing a tag with ABRAMS etched perfectly into the metal screwed into the top border of the locker next to his.

  “Son of a bitch,” Naomi said. She reached up and touched it with a smile. “They actually moved me from the little girls’ room. Matt would have hated this—having a locker…a lunch break.”

  “Damn sure would have. But he would have loved paying off that FJ of yours with his sign-on bonus like you just did. Let’s get rolling. Full battle rattle. Rounds in ninety seconds,” Kitsch said, slinging the nylon strap of his weapon across his chest, checking his sidearm and sliding it into the holster, as well as touching the Taser and hunting knife in each of their spots to double-check he was locked and loaded. It was overkill for the job, but then again, the Complex was the type of facility that required nothing until you needed everything.

  “Trexler, we’ve got a four ninety-nine on the south side of the Complex two clicks from the wire,” someone said through the radio. Sounded like Saunders.

  I pinched the small square clipped to my collar. “Copy that.” I looked to Kitsch and he nodded.

  “All right. Rounds can wait. Let’s load up.”

  Sloan looked lost, and Harbinger sighed. “The Complex has dedicated codes. A four ninety-nine is a potential perimeter breach. Read your manual.”

  Sloan nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  We walked quickly to the Charlie corridor, took an elevator one level down, and stepped out into the massive room that served as an equipment hold. We had everything from joint light tactical all-terrains—Jeeps on steroids—to tanks, armored combat earthmovers, and Hercules recovery vehicles. We jogged to our assigned Humvee and I jumped in the driver’s seat, with Harbinger copiloting. Naomi and Kitsch were in the back seat, Martinez and Sloan in the back.

  I barreled down the dirt road and crossed through the terrain to the site where surveillance caught a blur of three targets, the tires throwing rocks and dust. The smoke from the fire had been a plume the week before, now it was more like a blanket being lifted and spreading in the stratosphere. We stayed alert. Besides the blind hills, there weren’t many trees on that side of the mountain, making it easy to spot any unauthorized persons.

  “Twelve o’clock,” Naomi said.

  I slammed on the brakes, pushing a brown cloud around us. When the air cleared, three kids were standing inches from the bumper of the Humvee.

  Martinez and Sloan jumped out, barking for the kids to put their hands in the air. Two shaggy-haired boys about fifteen, and a girl. She was blond, reminding me of my little sister. Their faces were smudged, their hair covered in a light blanket of dust.

  “Easy, Sloan,” I said, stepping out of the driver’s side. “Where the hell did they come from?”

  Naomi pushed her sunglasses down her nose and looked down. “They came right over the ridge. Good thing, too, or we would have gone for a ride.”

  I leaned over, noticing the rocks below. “Ouch. It all looks the same out here.”

  “I’m driving next time,” Harbinger said.

  “Was that a joke? Are you making jokes now?” I asked, closing one eye against the sun.

  Naomi nudged one of the boys’ boots with hers. “What are you guys doing here?”

  “Th-there’s a party. We took a wrong turn, I think,” one of the boys said.

  “No shit,” Sloan said, still on guard. “A party at six a.m.? Nice try.”

  “It’s over, dumbass,” the girl said. “We were walking home.”

  Naomi smiled. “I like her.” She grabbed the girl by the back of the collar and yanked her up. “Let’s get them back where they belong.”

  I radioed in. “Gerald, this is Trex, come in.”

  “Gerald, sir, hear you loud and clear.”

  “Have the Colorado Springs police meet us at Gate One for pickup of trespassing juveniles. Just have their parents pick them up from the station.”

  “Copy that, sir.”

  Martinez grinned. “I think Gerald likes you.”

  “Shut your pie hole, Martinez. Put the small one in the
back.”

  “And this one?” Sloan asked, jerking up the tall, lanky one. The poor kid looked like he was about to shit himself, but I had a feeling they wouldn’t venture so close to the Complex next time.

  “They all go in the back. Check ’em first. Naomi?”

  “Got it,” she said, bringing the girl to the side.

  “Get your hands off me, bitch!” the girl yelled.

  We all froze, waiting for Naomi to snap the girl’s neck. Or at the very least, slap the shit out of her. It took Naomi a moment to process that someone had the balls to speak to her that way—I was sure it had been years, if ever—and then Naomi burst out laughing. “I have crossed paths with my fourteen-year-old self. Incredible.” She searched the girl and pointed to the back of the Humvee. “I’m guessing your mom hasn’t spanked you lately, but if you don’t get your ass up in that vehicle, I’m going to do it for her…and it will last you a while. Move. Now!”

  The girl startled and scrambled into the back with Martinez and her friends.

  Sloan gestured for Naomi to go next, then he followed.

  I slammed the door and revved the engine.

  “You gonna try to fly off the side of the mountain again?” Harbinger asked.

  “Suck my dick, John,” I said.

  Harbinger laughed once, and then his back pressed against the seat as we took off toward Gate One.

  “Colorado is good for you, I think. That’s a smile and a half in the same morning.”

  His smile faded, and he grabbed the handle above his seat, bouncing as we rolled across the rocky terrain.

  We dropped the kids off at Gate One, and I drove the team back to the warehouse. The elevator closed behind us, and it was strangely quiet on the way up. The elevator dinged just before it opened, and we stepped out into Charlie corridor.

  “All right,” I said, holding my rifle to my torso. “Kitsch, Sloan, you’ve got Alpha and Beta. Harbinger, Martinez, you’ve got Charlie and Delta. Check in with Saunders in surveillance at oh-eight-hundred. Nomes, you’re with me in Echo. See you all in the office at ten, we’ll reassign and then meet for chow. Keep comms open.”