“I just thought ...”
“We sleep in a cave. On rugs made from other bears.”
“Okay, but ...”
“These have never been washed.” He pulled at the neckline of the bear costume.
“Right.”
“You are dumb. Brave, but dumb.”
“Fair enough. Why don’t you and your brothers get dressed and we’ll go?”
“This is dressed. We’ve outgrown everything else. The good folks of Vita Nova never left clothes in the food pile. And we couldn’t very well leave a note.”
These kids had put up with a lot. They had grown up without parents in the worst possible world. Still, they had forged a respectable existence. These were good kids.
“Get out!” Erica screamed as a headless bear flew out the door of the coach. The boy tumbled to the ground as Erica came storming to the door of the coach.
Jerry and Alex ran to help the boy to his feet. Trent had a crude bandage on his hand and tried to push up off the ground with his one good arm. Jerry grasped him by the elbow and lifted him to his feet.
“What’s going on here?”
Erica yelled from the doorway, “The little bastard asked to see my boobs.”
The nomad looked at Trent. The boy could only blush. Trent shrugged in response to the accusation.
Jerry chuckled again.
“It’s not funny.” Erica stomped her foot for emphasis.
“Oh, come on, he’s a bear. He doesn’t know any better.”
She stormed back into the coach.
Trent rubbed his head. “My dad used to say it never hurt to ask.”
Jerry tried to brush some of the dirt off of the bear suit. “Well, in this case you should have listened to your mother.”
“She’s really mad,” Alex said as he examined the wrap on his brother’s hand.
Jerry smiled, “Wait till you see this.”
“What?” asked Trent.
“Erica?”
She was red in the face when she appeared back in the doorway. “What?”
“They’re coming with us.”
Trent lit up. Erica went off—screaming and swearing. Chewy got into the passenger seat and put her head out the window.
“We’ll head out in the morning. You and your brothers can get cleaned up in the coach. And you get to sleep indoors tonight.”
Alex couldn’t suppress a smile. He grabbed the nomad’s hand and shook it frantically. “I don’t know how to thank you, Dick.”
“My name’s not Dick.”
“But, she keeps calling you ...”
“Jerry. Okay, my name is Jerry.”
“Thanks, Jerry. I ... I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Just get cleaned up and try to find some clothes that fit. There should be some in the closet in there. We have to make you presentable to the people of New Hope. They’re kind of judgey.”
FIFTEEN
“You’re a genius, Logan.”
“Please.”
“No, really. I’m the guy in this town who can build anything out of anything and I couldn’t build a system of flamethrowers.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you, Carl.”
“Where did you figure this out?”
“A delinquent childhood filled with adventure and a touch of arson.”
The short man laughed. “I know what you mean. I nearly burned my eyebrows off when I was ten. I’d tell you how, but then I’d have to kill you.” Carl slapped the warrior on the shoulder and burst with laughter.
Logan winced, more at the laughter than the slap. “The old WD-40 and a lighter bit, right?”
Carl shook his head. “Insurance fraud. I helped my dad torch our fishing boat.”
“Oh, well ...”
“We needed the money.”
“I see.”
“For a new fishing boat.”
“Well, people do what they have to, don’t they?”
“I don’t know if we had to. Dad was a dentist.”
Logan was silent.
“Fun though. And, it brought us closer. And, like my dad always said, you gotta have a boat.” Carl began to laugh again. It grated Logan’s ears.
A young woman stared at him from across the courtyard. It wasn’t the good kind of stare. He could tell she didn’t trust him. It was in the way she looked at him through smoldering eyes under a furled brow. It was in her posture, clenched arms crossed, not for warmth, but for defense. It was in the way she gave him the finger, perfectly vertical, hyper extended joints for emphasis.
“Would you excuse me for a moment, Carl?”
“Anything for you, Logan.”
“Uh, okay.”
Sarah was leaning against his Mustang as if examining the vehicle. She turned away as he approached. Peering into the windows, she pretended that she did not see him approach.
She was beautiful. Jet-black hair and dark skin set off fierce blue eyes and made him wonder if he had ever so noticed a person’s pupil.
“Are you checking out the car or me?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
“I saw you giving me quite the look.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw you give me the finger.”
She shrugged.
“You’re still giving it to me.”
She retracted the offensive digit and clasped her arms tight across her ample chest. “I don’t trust you.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
“You show up out of nowhere, and you’ve got the whole town eating out of your hands. It’s all a little too easy. I don’t trust charming strangers.”
“You’re right not to trust me.”
“What?”
“You’re right not to trust me,” he said again. “I don’t trust strangers. I’ve been burned by too many. And, often, it’s the charming ones that mean to do you the most harm.”
“You’re weird.”
“What’s your name?”
“Sarah.”
“Sarah,” he said, letting the name play on his tongue. “You’re the mayor’s daughter, aren’t you?”
She hesitated. “Yes.”
“He told me about you. He said you were beautiful.”
“And?”
“I figured it was just a father’s eyes talking. But he was right.”
She blushed.
“Now, don’t do that. You don’t trust charming strangers, remember?”
She smiled. She tried to hide it and then protested, “I can find you charming and still not trust you.”
“That’s fair.”
“What’s your game?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re up to something. And it’s not good. I’ve told my father not to trust you.”
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t listen. Daddies don’t listen the first time. But I’m still working on him.” She turned back to the car.
“Do you like the Mustang?”
The body was a vague homage to its former beauty. The ravages of wasteland and driving had marred it with countless dings, divots, and scratches.
Patchwork repairs and armament had left the once polished body a Frankenstein of sheet metal, wire, and bolts.
Contrary to its outward appearance, the mechanics of the car were unmatched. A beast of an engine lurked beneath the hood. A massive blower, the most obvious sign that the heart of the automobile wasn't stock, burst through the hood to swallow air that it would convert into raw horsepower.
The children had flocked to it the moment Logan had stepped into the mayor’s office upon arrival. Their fascination had not ebbed in the least.
They had moved closer and closer to the mechanical marvel over the course of the afternoon. Even now they gathered around it. One young boy had even mustered the courage to get into the driver’s seat and make revving noises as he moved his hand across the wheel.
“It’s not much to look at.�
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“No. It’s not. There aren’t a lot of Mi-T-Fines left out there. But, she’s fast.”
She ran her hand along the door then stopped and stomped her foot. “Trying to get the girl with the car. I thought that ended with the apocalypse.”
He laughed. “I don’t drive it to get into trouble with the ladies.” His face lost all humor. “I drive it to outrun trouble.”
She looked back at the car.
“Do you want a ride?”
“No. I mean, I haven’t been in a car like this in seven years.”
“C’mon, get in. There’s something I want to show you that proves you’re right.”
She scrunched up her nose, “I still don’t trust you.”
“Exactly. And I would never ask you to.” Logan opened the driver’s door.
The young boy behind the wheel had been oblivious to the man’s presence. When the door opened, he looked up in shock. Logan tousled the lad’s hair as the child scrambled out of the seat.
He sat down, leaned across and opened the passenger door.
Sarah smiled and rolled her eyes. Simple chivalry was unexpected. It delighted her to see it. Still, his charms weren’t going to work on her and she wanted him to think that. She made sure that she wasn’t smiling when she sat down.
SIXTEEEN
“Just one boob?”
Erica turned away and tried to ignore the boy and his requests.
“Just a little?” Trent indicated with his finger and thumb that, when he said a little, he meant a lot.
“For the last time, no! Who taught you your manners?” Erica had enough of the boys from the woods. Their endless fascination annoyed her. The shower, clean clothes, soft beds, and everything inside the coach delighted and amazed them. Erica appreciated the fact that they had lived in the wilderness for seven years, but the “oohs,” “ahhs,” and “awesomes” had worn thin well before bedtime.
The oldest one hadn’t stopped talking, asking question after question about the world outside the woods. The middle child hadn’t stopped staring, mostly at her chest. And the youngest, well, the youngest just sat on the floor quietly petting Chewy.
There had been nothing in the nomad’s closet that had fit Austin. So the young boy was forced to wait in his bear costume until they could find something for him to wear. This had upset the boy at first, but now he seemed quite content to hide in the pelt and pet the dog.
The trip back to the road hadn’t been too bad since the boys had to help push the Silver Lining back to the Dairy Queen. That effort had given her a little more than an hour of silence as she sat behind the steering wheel, guiding the large vehicle back through the field.
But, after three hours on the road, sitting with the boys in the back, she was ready to jump out the door herself if she couldn’t persuade them to go first.
Trent shrugged off the comment about his manners and went back to looking out the window. His eyes had been glued to the road whenever they weren’t focused on her chest.
Alex leaned in and said something to his brother that she couldn’t hear and turned to her.
“He’ll try not to bother you. It’s just that you’re the first girl we’ve seen since our mom died.”
Erica looked away. His staring had made her uncomfortable, but her lack of empathy embarrassed her even more. The loss of her town, her family, had numbed her to the pain of others. There were few alive in the world that had not suffered loss. These boys may have suffered more than most. Not only had they lost their parents, they had been cut off from the world.
“Why didn’t you boys ask for help?”
Alex turned out the window. Sadness crept into his voice. “We did.”
“But, I’m sure that ...”
Alex snapped back, “They didn’t. They told my dad that they couldn’t feed five more.”
It was Erica’s turn to look away. Ashamed, she wondered who would have turned a family away from Vita Nova. Tears filled her eyes as it dawned on her that had the family been welcome at Vita Nova, the boys would not have lost their parents.
They rode in silence for the next few miles before she could pull herself away from the passing scenery.
Austin, the youngest of the three bears, was looking at her. Even the bear costume was too big for him. He sat on the floor, his knees drawn to his chest. This forced the shoulders of the pelt higher. All she could see were the large brown eyes of the boy.
These eyes didn’t shy from her gaze. They held steady, not sure what to make of the woman.
“Do you like dogs?” Erica tried to introduce a calm into her voice that she just didn’t feel.
The young boy nodded and looked at Chewy.
“What’s your favorite thing about dogs?”
“They’re nice, and fun, and don’t try to eat you.”
Chewy sighed deep as the boy rubbed her chest.
“Did you have a dog? You know, before?”
Austin shook his head.
“Did you have any pets?”
The boy nodded.
“Fish.”
Erica felt a sense of accomplishment. The boy had said little since getting on the coach. Trying to make amends for her earlier coldness, she smiled big and asked, “What were their names?”
The boy looked puzzled, “Why would you name a fish?”
Now, Erica was puzzled. “I guess so you can talk to it?”
“What are you going to tell a fish?”
The boy had asked a better question than she wanted to admit. “Swim?” was all she could think to say.
The boy looked back at the dog and began to scratch behind her ears. “Yeah, but they already do that.”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s just fun to name your fish.”
“You’ve got a weird way of having fun, lady.”
Embarrassment returned, she dropped the conversation and went back to staring out the window.
“Alex! Look!” Trent shot upright and started tapping the window. His older brother turned and followed his gaze.
“It’s a McDonald’s, Alex!” The grin on his face was caused by unmistakable glee.
Alex nodded and a smile crept across his face. “Look, Austin. Remember McDonald’s?”
Austin did not respond; he stroked Chewy’s head with long slow strokes that ended on her back. The dog’s tail wagged on occasion, but deep sighs were the more obvious sign of her contentment.
Trent jumped from his seat and made his way to the cab holding the waistline of his borrowed pants to prevent them from falling. He worked against the rocking of the vehicle and stepped into the cockpit.
“Mister. Hey, dude,” he began to shout as he approached the driver seat. “We’ve got to pull over.”
“What’s wrong?” Jerry asked, assuming the worst.
“Nothing, you just gotta pull over.”
“Use the toilet in the back.”
“I don’t wanna pee. I wanna Happy Meal.” He thrust his arm across Jerry’s vision and pointed at the former fast food building.
Jerry ducked and weaved trying to see past the youth’s arm. The coach responded by diving and weaving across the road.
“Move your arm, kid!”
The swaying of the coach became more violent as Jerry struggled to see the road. Alex and Erica were rocked from the benches. Trent was thrown across the driver’s seat. Only Austin and Chewy remained unfazed.
Jerry slammed on the brakes—tossing everyone forward. “What is going on?” He pulled the boy back to his feet and jammed the shifter into park.
Trent ran to the back and burst through the door. Alex was close behind him, pausing only to tell Austin to “c’mon.” The youngest boy sat still in his bear suit, petting the dog.
Jerry scrambled after them and ran into the closing door of the coach. He bounced off the door and lost his balance. Grabbing wildly, his hands found the curtains. The rod snapped under his weight. He fell to the floor of the cabin and the curtains settled slowly over his face. Ens
hrouded in the fabric, he sat up and felt to see if his nose was bleeding. Somehow the impact had not brought forth any blood. He was a little unbalanced when he stood and rushed out the door and he fought the curtains the entire way.
Austin looked at Erica, “Now that was fun.”
Erica smiled back at the boy. “Yes. Yes, it was.”
Jerry caught the two boys as they stood in silence in front of the McDonald’s. The front of the building was intact, but the entire rear wall was a pile of rubble and rebar. Looking through the windows, they could see through to the barren landscape behind it.
“I’m sorry, boys. You didn’t expect it to be open, did you?”
Trent didn’t say anything.
Alex answered, “No, but it would have been cool to get one more Happy Meal toy. C’mon, Trent.” The oldest boy turned and headed back to the coach.
Trent looked up at the nomad, this man who said he had been all over the country. What had he seen? Had he seen anything at all? “It’s really all gone. Isn’t it?”
Jerry placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “A lot has changed. There isn’t much left of the world we knew. But, there are people out there. Good people. And, when good people get together, good things happen. The world may seem lost now, but in a few years things are going to start to change.”
He believed this. More than anything, Jerry had faith that mankind could make a better world than the one that mankind had blown up.
“Things are going to be good again, Trent. It may not be now, or five years from now, but soon.”
“So, I’ve got to wait five years for a fucking Happy Meal? Thanks, man. Good pep talk.” Trent shook the hand off of his shoulder and walked toward the McDonald’s.
Of all the kids, Jerry liked Trent the least. “I don’t know what to tell you then, kid. If it’ll help, I’ve got some juice boxes in the fridge.”
Trent’s eyes lit up, “You’ve got a fridge in there?”’
“Yes.” He had hoped for less whining, but Jerry had seemed to hit the mother lode of consolation prizes.
“No way!” Trent all but left an imprint of himself in the air as he ran back to the Silver Lining. His feet touched, only lightly, on the steps as he flew in to the cabin.
By the time Jerry had made it back to the coach, the boys were all taking turns opening and closing the miniature fridge door. Each would pop it open and stick their face into it, exhaling vast breaths, trying to watch a fog form in the air.
Post-Apocalyptic Nomadic Warriors (A Duck & Cover Adventure) Page 10