by James Cook
“I don’t own any chalets, and a car is just something to move a person from one place to another. Something in your manner tells me you aren’t terribly impressed by those sorts of things. I thought you might find a little directness refreshing, a break from all these fake smiles and clever maneuvering. Am I wrong?”
She tilted her head the other way, giving me a view of the curve of her neck. “No, you are not. A moment, please.”
She turned to Villalobos and tapped him on the shoulder. He held up a finger to the man speaking to him and turned his dead brown eyes our way.
“Miguel, will you be needing me for the next few minutes?” she asked in perfect Spanish.
He looked at me, then back at her. Gave a little chuckle. “You like them big, don’t you?”
There was a familiarity in his voice I might have almost called friendly. Perhaps Anja was more than just a mere personal assistant.
“And you like them young. We all have our preferences. Please, Miguel, it’s been weeks. A woman must enjoy herself now and then, or she will go mad. Perhaps he will scare away all these flabby little men bothering me.”
“Fine. Take the rest of the night off; get it out of your system. Just don’t stay up too late, young lady. We have much to do tomorrow.”
“Of course. Thank you, Miguel.”
She turned back to me and linked her arm in mine. “It would appear my schedule has suddenly opened for the evening. Perhaps we should have our drink somewhere more…appealing.” She cast a disparaging glance at the attendees, almost all of whom were men, and none worthy of her approval.
“Nothing would make me happier.”
We walked arm in arm toward the elevator, every eye in the room turning to follow us. The expressions of those we passed ranged from simple jealousy to outright hostility. I caught Tanner’s eye on the way out and gave him a slight nod. He blinked twice in acknowledgment.
“So where would you like to go?” I asked.
“Are you staying here at the hotel?”
“I am.”
“I assume your room has a mini-bar?”
“It does.”
“Then that is where you should take me.”
She stepped closer when she said it, the warm curve of her hip pressing against my thigh. I pressed the button for my floor, trying not to let my hand tremble or the heat in my stomach spread to my face.
With any luck, I could enjoy an evening with the lovely Ms. Renner while Tanner and Rocco took care of the dirty work. They would no doubt give me a metric ton of shit about it, but right then, I could not have cared less.
As the elevator doors hissed shut, I noticed Hargreaves watching us. The look on his face was not a happy one.
TWENTY ONE
There are times in life when you have to swallow your pride and make amends.
Two weeks passed after speaking with the sheriff, and during that time I received no word from Elizabeth. No visits, no runners bearing messages, not even a note stuck to my front door. Lacking any better ideas, I paid a visit to Eric and Allison and asked them what I should do.
“Why don’t you just go see her?” Eric suggested, his wounded leg propped on an ottoman. The leg was healing nicely, but he would be walking with a limp for at least a couple of months. Allison also informed me Private Fuller was out of the hospital, but confined to bed rest for another two weeks. She anticipated a least a month before he would be fit for duty.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I kind of…lied to her about something.”
Allison perked up, and I could swear her ears grew little points. “Lied about what?”
“It’s kind of a long story.”
Eric gestured to his recently perforated appendage. “Do I look like I’m going anywhere? Come on, out with it.”
I let out a sigh. “Okay, but this conversation doesn’t leave this room, you hear? It would be bad for all parties involved if this hits the rumor mill.”
“Gabe, this is us you’re talking to,” Eric said. “If you want us to keep it a secret, then we keep it a secret. End of story.”
I looked across the room at the best friend I had, a man I had been to hell and back with, who had been stalwart and steadfast through thick and thin. The old reluctance was still there, that miserly hoarding of information to ward off the judgmental eyes of the world. But sitting there looking at his concerned face, and that of the pretty young doctor sitting next to him holding his hand, I just couldn’t find it in me to hold back anymore. Secrets are a heavy burden, and you don’t realize how much they weigh you down until you let them go.
So I told him.
I gave them the abbreviated version of the mission in New York, and who I thought was after me. I told them about the words carved on Sean Montford’s back, and the events that followed. I told them about my argument with Sheriff Elliott at Stall’s Tavern, and how that information had most likely made its way back to Elizabeth. When I was finished, Eric nodded silently, unsurprised by any part of the story. Allison, on the other hand, looked visibly shaken.
“Jesus, Gabe,” she said, barely a whisper. “How could you just…kill those men like that? The way you made the serial killer guy suffer, it’s…”
I sank deeper into my chair, feeling tired and empty. It wasn’t the first time someone had balked when they learned of something I had done, but it still didn’t feel any better. Especially coming from someone whose opinion I held in high esteem. “Allison, I’ve done worse things than kill a bunch of murderers in cold blood. The only thing I can say in my defense is they got better than they deserved after what they did to Montford. His only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now his wife and children have to get along without him. Maybe I settled that account with more prejudice than necessary, but don’t expect me to apologize. They certainly didn’t apologize to their victims. Montford wasn’t the only one, you know. God knows how many people those sick fucks tortured to death.”
“I understand that, but still, I’m a doctor, Gabe. What you did, it’s anathema to everything I stand for.”
“Listen,” Eric said, turning to look at her, face darkening. “Life isn’t all rainbows and sunshine anymore, okay? Things are different now. Sometimes good people have to do bad things.”
“I know that, Eric, but…”
“No you don’t, Allison,” he said with a sudden heat in his voice. Allison stiffened as if she’d been slapped. “You don’t know. You’ve treated the wounded and the sick, but you’ve never had to do the fighting. You’ve spent every day since the Outbreak here, in Hollow Rock, where life is relatively sane. But the world beyond that wall outside is not sane. Not even a little bit. It hellish and dangerous and damn near everyone you meet wants to kill you, rob you, or worse. And that’s not even counting the infected. Gabriel and I have not survived by wearing kid gloves and playing by the rules. There are no rules anymore. We might have law and order here in Hollow Rock, but for everyone else, it’s survival of the fittest. What Gabe did was rough, I won’t deny that. But it’s not nearly as bad as what others have done, including the men he killed. At least Gabe did what he did for the right reasons, and in defense of the right people. I suggest you remember that before you go passing judgment.”
Allison’s mouth worked a few times, face growing red, trying to come up with a response. Nothing came out.
“Listen,” I said, trying to keep the peace. “I’m not trying to start an argument here, okay? Eric, I appreciate you defending me, but you really shouldn’t talk to Allison like that. She deserves better.”
The look he shot me was defiant for a few seconds, then regretful. “You’re right. Allison, I’m sorry I snapped at you. I didn’t mean it.”
Her hand covered his. “No, you’re right. It’s not my place to pass judgment on Gabe, or you, or anyone else. I have spent too much time behind the wall. Being a doctor has kept me protected from the worst of what’s out there. I guess it’s easy to throw stones when no one is
throwing them back at you, right? You guys have been through so much. I just…” Her eyes became red and leaky, her lower lip beginning to quiver.
“Hey, hey, none of that,” Eric said, drawing her into a hug. “You’ve been crying a lot lately. Are you all right? This isn’t like you.”
Her head was tucked under Eric’s chin, so he didn’t see the warning look she shot me. “I’m fine. I guess the stress of everything is getting to me. You know how it is.”
“Yeah. I do.”
They sat holding each other for a few moments, eyes closed, taking comfort in one another’s warmth and presence. I remembered all the times Elizabeth and I had done the exact same thing, clinging to each other silently in the cold and the dark. There was a hollow ache in my chest, in the place that grew warm when Liz was around.
You have to fix this. Find a way.
I cleared my throat, bringing Eric and Allison back into the room. They smiled at each other and separated, hands clasped, momentary unpleasantness forgotten.
“So what do you suggest I do about Elizabeth?” I asked. “Maybe one of you could talk to her for me?”
“Gabe, I think Eric’s right,” Allison said. “I think you should go talk to her yourself.”
I grimaced. “I was worried you were going to say that.”
She smiled. “It would be best to see her early in the day, right around seven. She’s a morning person, she’ll be more receptive. Oh, and bring a peace offering. Instant coffee would be my recommendation.”
“Coffee I can do. That part will be easy, if expensive. Explaining myself is going to be the hard part.”
“Just tell her the truth, Gabe. It’s not up to you if she forgives you or not, it’s up to her. All you can do is offer your honesty and love, and hope it’s enough. Life will go on either way.”
I nodded, head down, feeling defeated. Eric asked if I wanted to stay for lunch, but I declined.
“What, you got something better to do today?” he asked.
I looked at Allison and shared a conspiratorial smile. “Yeah. Gotta head over to the warehouse and scare up some coffee.”
*****
Elizabeth didn’t look very good when she answered the door.
“Good morning,” I said.
She pulled her robe tighter around her and brushed her hair out of her face. “Come on in, Gabe. It’s too cold to talk on the porch.”
I stomped the snow off my boots and did as asked. The living room was warm, heated by a woodstove I had found on a salvage run a few weeks ago. I hauled it back to town and enlisted the help of Tom Glover to install it in Liz’s house, along with a chimney. Looking at it, I realized it was the only gift I had ever given Elizabeth. For a guy with a genius IQ, sometimes I am not very bright.
“How have you been?” I said. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Her eyes were red around the edges, the lines of her face deeply etched, hair loose and tangled. She looked as if she had not been sleeping much lately. “I’ve been busy. The feds finally decided what they want us to do with those insurgents you captured.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “They want us to hold a trial.”
“What’s the charge?”
“Charges. Plural. There’s a whole list of them, you’d have to ask Walter.”
I winced. “Probably not a good idea. I’m not exactly his favorite person right now.”
“I know. You’re not mine either.”
I accepted the comment with a nod, understanding where it came from and why she felt that way, even though it hurt like hell to hear it. I reached under my coat and produced the jar of instant coffee. Gift number two.
“Would this help?”
Her eyes widened. Coffee, even the vile instant stuff, is a rare and precious commodity. The jar I held still had the vacuum seal on it, making it valuable enough to buy a month’s food and lodging at any trading post along the Mississippi. As the beneficiary of many of my reports on the subject, Liz understood this.
“It sure as hell wouldn’t hurt,” she said. “Let me put some water on.”
I handed her the jar and took a seat on the sofa, hands crossed in my lap, remembering what Allison said to me about honesty. It took Liz a few minutes to boil the water, add a couple of carefully measured spoonfuls of grains, and hand me a steaming mug. I held it close to my face and blew coils of vapor from the top, relishing the warmth if not the smell. Liz took a seat across from me and pulled a blanket over her legs.
“So what do you have to say for yourself?”
My shoulders sagged as I put the mug on the table. “I should probably start with an apology.”
She tipped her head to the side. “Not the worst idea you’ve ever had.”
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you with this earlier. I’m sorry for this whole damn mess. Sean Montford was murdered because of me. Because of something I did a long time ago.”
“And you went after his killers.” A statement, not a question.
I nodded. “I thought I could take care of it quietly. No fuss, no questions.”
Liz tilted her head again, dark eyes staring out from beneath hooded lids. “Setting a house on fire isn’t exactly low profile, Gabe.”
“No. It isn’t. I don’t know, maybe on some level I wanted to get caught.”
“But you didn’t, exactly. Walter couldn’t find any evidence linking you to the deaths.”
“No, but he wasn’t fooled. He knows how to put two and two together. I was stupid to think he wouldn’t figure it out.”
“He told me about your argument at Stall’s Tavern, about all the things you said to him. You were right, you know. He wouldn’t have let those men get away with murder, not even if they were tried and acquitted. Nor would I, for that matter.”
I looked up, surprised. “What do you mean?”
“It’s entirely possible they would have walked. There may not have been enough evidence to prove they murdered Sean. Their hideout’s proximity to the crime scene is purely circumstantial evidence, probably not enough to convince a jury even in these troubled times. Speaking of, how exactly did you know they were guilty?”
She was dodging my question, but I let it go. “I…interrogated one of them. He confessed things only the perpetrator would know. I didn’t want to take action until I was sure. They killed him, Liz. I’m sure of it. One of them was…I don’t know if serial killer is the right word, but he was something close to it. Before he died, he bragged about how many people he had killed and the things he did to them. Disturbing shit, even for me.”
Liz was quiet for a moment, contemplating. “But why? It doesn’t make any sense. Why did they kill Sean just to get your attention?”
“Someone hired them to draw me out and capture me. I’m thinking they wanted to do it away from town in case I was missed and someone came looking. It would give them a head start.”
“But why capture you?”
“I think whoever hired them is very angry with me and wants me alive. There were actually four of them, by the way. I let one live and told him to go back to his employer and give him a message.”
“And what message was that?”
“To leave the fuck off. To cease and desist, and the consequences for failure to do so.”
“Do you think it will work?”
“I don’t know. Probably. If he was truly dedicated, he would have come here and settled things personally. But he didn’t. I’m not sure what to make of that.”
Liz paused again, taking a sip of her coffee. After a few seconds, she stood up and came over to sit beside me.
“I have a lot more questions I’d like to ask. Like who sent those men and why, and what you did to make that person hate you so much. I’d like to know how you managed to get in and out of Hollow Rock without anyone seeing you, and where you learned to do things like that. I’m willing to bet it wasn’t part of your training in the Marines. I’d also li
ke to know how you got all those scars, and the stories behind them. And maybe someday I’ll ask you those questions. Maybe someday I’ll feel strong enough and anchored enough. But it won’t be today.”
She let the last few words hang in the air, baiting me. “Okay,” I said cautiously. “Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t matter. Because I’m happy when I’m with you, and right now, that’s all I care about. You gave me something back I thought was gone from my life forever, and I don’t want to lose it again. When you’re with me, I feel like life is worth living. The way the world is now, that’s a precious thing.”
I put an arm around her and kissed her on the temple. “I could say the same thing about you, pretty lady. I should have said it a hundred times by now.”
She smiled at me, and I felt hope began to burn again. “I was angry for a while that you lied to me,” she said. “That you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. Eventually, the anger went away, and I was just sad. I cried a lot. Then one day I woke up and realized I was being a hypocrite. I certainly wasn’t squeamish when you killed Ronnie Kilpatrick and his gang, or during the fighting with the Free Legion. It seemed wrong of me to trust you when the town was in danger, but doubt you when it wasn’t. I’ve never been a fair-weather friend, Gabe. If you don’t want to tell me why you went after Sean’s murderers, you must have a very good reason.”
I smiled and bowed my head. “It makes me sad to say this, but that’s probably the nicest, most understanding thing anyone has ever said to me.”
She laughed and shook her head. “It’s been a lonely couple of weeks, sweetie. I held out hope you would visit, but days kept passing and you didn’t come. Honestly, I was starting to think you had given up on me.”
I reached for her hand, watching her fingers slip through mine. “Not on your life, lady. I just didn’t know what to say, you know? I was ashamed of myself. I didn’t want to stand out there on your porch sputtering like an idiot.”