by Maira Dawn
Skye’s nerves were stretched so thin even time was wonky. It could have been thirty minutes or three hours that since they entered this truck. She wasn’t sure.
The sun still shone through the pass-through window to the cab, but they’d driven long enough she needed a restroom.
Skye sighed. Now that would be all she would think about.
As if someone read her mind, the truck slowed and stopped.
Skye’s heart almost came to a standstill.
Kelsey clenched her hand, and Skye murmured it would be all right, even though she had no idea if it would be.
“Don’t cause trouble,” Kelsey reminded her.
Only Skye’s anxiety stopped her from laughing.
How many times had she told Wade that? Yet, what she wouldn’t do for a little of his trouble now.
The back door of the truck rolled up, and the tall leader stood there. “You want to take care of any business?”
When the women nodded, he waved them down.
Skye and Kelsey jumped out of the truck’s back to the pavement of the road and looked around.
No vehicles moved on the desolate interstate. Long grass waved in the gentle wind as far as Skye could see. In the far distance, a few sparse tree groves stood. Three tall trees grew near the road, and an old gray-weathered house was about a half a mile away. It looked deserted.
Skye startled when the tall man grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward him. “You gonna cause me any problems?”
Skye lowered her head and avoided eye contact. “No, sir. I will not.”
He seemed satisfied with that, pushing her on her way.
It was the truth. Where could they go with five men just waiting for them to try? Now was not the time.
A short, stubby man pushed through the grass to a tree.
“I’ll watch them,” he said as he waved his gun. “I could use a little target practice.”
He waited for the women to find their spot and turned to relieve himself against the bark of a tree.
Skye and Kelsey crouched in the tall grass, hoping the men would only see the tops of their heads.
On the way back to the truck, Skye looked for anything that would tell her where they were, but found no signs on this empty stretch of road.
But the air was warmer and more humid than when they had entered the vehicle at the Containment Center.
They were going South.
Her stomach dropped.
Just how far away from home were they?
Ten
Life Lessons
Sue Ellen sat in a straight chair at Dylan’s bedside, staring at him as he lay in bed, recuperating.
He was a tough guy—she had to give him that. The bullet and the infection might have killed a lesser man, but he hung on.
Doing better than hanging on really—he was healing.
Still, Dylan was off his game. Usually, when someone looked at him for very long, his eyes popped open like he had some kind of sixth sense.
Finally, after several minutes of Sue Ellen’s intense gaze, Dylan stirred in his sleep.
Satisfied with the sign of his returning health, Sue Ellen went back to tossing a tiny red ball from one hand to the other.
She snickered. Was that kid still bawling over losing this?
She rolled her eyes. Kids were such easy marks.
She’d been sitting on Doc’s front porch, dangling her feet, when the mom and little boy walked by.
The ball slipped from the boy’s hand and sped over the bumpy ground, stopping right in front of her.
She’d plopped the toe of her tennis shoe over it.
The little boy wailed.
The mom looked around with a frown on her face as the boy cried, “Ball,” over and over.
She’d even asked Sue Ellen if she’d seen it.
But the girl had made big eyes, shrugged, and shook her head.
Then she’d stared the kid down.
“You should’ve hung onto it,” the mom said as she dragged the little boy through the clearing.
The boy cried louder.
“I’ll find you another one!” The mother said in desperation.
Sue Ellen snorted. That might have worked before the AgFlu, but really, was the mom going to try and promise that now? It was the apocalypse, lady. Not so easy to get toys like little red balls. Even the kid realized that.
Sue Ellen tossed the ball again and giggled. Her blonde curls and big blue eyes always did the trick. And the fact that parents always blamed their own kids for stuff helped, too.
“What’s so funny?”
Sue Ellen startled and grabbed the ball from mid-air. Her gaze flew to Dylan. “Nothing. I was just thinkin’ is all.”
Dylan’s eyes narrowed, and she looked away.
Sometimes she swore he had the ability to read her mind. But it was probably just that he didn’t like her. He never had.
From the minute he’d seen her, he’d been suspicious of her. She could tell. She’d tried to get him to trust her, but it hadn’t worked yet.
Wade, though, he’d been on her side more often than not, always wanting to help her do better.
As if she wanted to—being herself is what kept her alive.
“What are you doin’ here, girl?”
“I’m just checking on you since no one else is around. I thought you’d like that.”
Dylan grunted and ran a hand over his face. “Anyone hear anything yet?”
“Geez, Dylan, they just left.”
“Watch your mouth. Don’t be sassin’ me.”
Dylan never yelled at her. He just got real still and quiet and gave her that intense stare.
It disturbed her.
She enjoyed being the only one in the room able to read people, but he did it better than her.
Sue Ellen shivered. She didn’t want anyone to guess her secrets.
Dylan pointed to the ball. “And give that back to the kid.”
Sue Ellen’s chin dropped, leaving her mouth open. “I-I found it.”
“Right. Give it back to him.”
“All right,” she mumbled as she shoved it into her pocket.
“I’ll be checkin’.”
“Whatever!” Sue Ellen stood up so fast her straight chair almost tipped over.
“Then, get your butt back here.”
Sue Ellen ground her teeth. “Why?”
“Cause I want to get outta this bed, and you’re going to help me do it.”
“I ain’t your babysitter.”
Dylan laughed. “You are now.”
Sue Ellen put her hands on her hips. “Why me?”
Dylan’s blue eyes turned icy. “You know why.”
Her gaze darted away. She ran out of the room.
Sue Ellen hurried down the hall, ignoring Bre’s greeting as she passed her in the kitchen, and slammed the door as she left the house so that everyone would be aware of how upset she was.
Grandma would say that Sue Ellen couldn’t trust a man like that. A man like Dylan knew too much for Sue Ellen’s own good.
But, who was he to tell her what to do? It was her ball now, and she was going to keep it. Wasn’t much Dylan could actually do about it anyway—laying there weak as a newborn kitten.
Sue Ellen laughed and threw the little red ball into the air, watching it sail up into the sky and back down toward her again.
Ain’t nobody gonna tell her what to do.
She had plans for today, and those plans didn’t include being someone’s nursemaid.
Sue Ellen waved to the man keeping watch and skipped away.
After wandering down by the creek for a while, she found herself at the quiet little clearing where Annette and Mrs. Gilmore lived. She stopped at the edge of the tree line, hiding behind some scrub brush, and spying on Annette as she sat on the porch crying.
Everyone felt bad for the woman. No one really knew her or the guy that died—they’d kept to themselves so much.
But after he died,
everyone brought Annette lots of food—the good stuff.
Sue Ellen swatted at a gnat circling her head.
She’d visited Annette, too. She would not miss out on scoring some of that food. Besides, she needed to keep an eye on that woman.
Sue Ellen considered another visit.
Annette might still have treats left.
As Sue Ellen set her foot in the clearing, the dark, delicious aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafted to her.
Mrs. Gilmore first then. Nothing beat fresh treats. Sue Ellen’s stomach rumbled at the thought.
On top of that, Mrs. Gilmore loved her. The old woman’s eyes always sparkled the instant she saw her.
The fact was, Sue Ellen couldn’t remember anyone who looked at her the way Mrs. Gilmore did—not even her own grandma and definitely not her parents.
Her parent’s eyes had always been dull with drink or hot with anger. Even though her father saved the beatings for Jesse, their mother hadn’t been above giving Sue Ellen a smack or two.
And then there was Grandma.
Someone had once told her she was lucky to live with her grandmother as if all of them were soft, loving, and smelled like cookies.
They obviously didn’t know her grandmother.
Her grandma was into what she called Life Lessons.
Every day held a lesson—and if Sue Ellen didn’t learn quick enough—anything from a long lecture to a few smacks and an afternoon in the dark, cobwebbed cupboards awaited her.
She shivered as if those creepy crawlers still covered her skin.
The most consistent theme of her grandmother’s lessons was all the many reasons a person couldn’t trust—well, anyone.
“Stop cryin’ over your dead mama!” Grandma would say. “I can’t stand your caterwauling. She never wanted you while she was alive, anyway. She’s pry up in heaven happy she ain’t putting up with you no more.”
“You only have yourself to rely on, girl. You need to practice that, so go find your own dinner tonight.”
“Why d’you bring that little girl from school home? Friends don’t do you no good—they leave you. That’s a lesson you need to remember, and I’m going to make sure you do.”
Grandma did real good teaching all those Life Lessons.
Sue Ellen remembered each one of them as if they’d happened yesterday.
Eleven
Chocolate Chip Cookies
Sue Ellen kept her head down as she passed Annette on her way to Mrs. Gilmore’s house.
Annette sniffled and tried to hide her tears, offering Sue Ellen a thin smile and a wave.
“Nice to see you, Sue Ellen.”
Sue Ellen waved back—a quick little tip of her hand. She didn’t want to seem too friendly and feel forced to talk to her. Not until after she’d had her cookies, anyway.
After running up the porch stairs of Mrs. Gilmore’s house, Annette tapped on the door. If the old lady was baking, it was likely she was right on the other side. There was no sense in banging on it too loud.
Just as Sue Ellen suspected, the door popped open in less than a second. She pretended to be startled and laughed. The old lady liked that.
Mrs. Gilmore pulled her into a hug. “Oh, Sue Ellen, it is so nice to have you visit! I wasn’t sure you’d be able to with everything going on with your family and all.”
She quickly cleared cookie trays off the table to make room for Sue Ellen. “There you go. Have a seat.”
Mrs. Gilmore poured a glass of milk and put a plate of cookies in the middle of the table.
Sue Ellen grinned and flashed her blue eyes at the older woman. “Oh, my, Mrs. Gilmore. These look amazing!”
Mrs. Gilmore put a gentle hand on either side of Sue Ellen’s face.
“You are so adorable. You remind me so much of my grandchildren, the poor dears. Well, no sense in dwelling on that. It won’t do anyone any good.”
She patted Sue Ellen’s puffy curls.
Sue Ellen frowned as Mrs. Gilmore turned to remove another batch of cookies from the oven. She’d rather Mrs. Gilmore like her for herself and not some dead grandchildren.
She shrugged as she bit into a chip-laden cookie. A girl like her wasn’t able to be picky. She had to take what she could get.
When Mrs. Gilmore turned back around, Sue Ellen smiled at her.
Several cookies later, as Sue Ellen patted her taunt belly, someone knocked on the door.
Mrs. Gilmore brightened. “Oh, my! This is a busy day.”
She leaned toward Sue Ellen and half-whispered, “How much do you want to bet they smelled my cookies baking?”
Sue Ellen giggled. “Of course, they did. What do you think brought me here?”
“Oh, you!” Mrs. Gilmore lightly poked Sue Ellen’s cheek on her way to the door. Sue Ellen rolled her eyes behind Mrs. Gilmore’s back. But if that was the price one had to pay . . .
“Oh, look who it is, Sue Ellen!”
The girl turned to see Travis, Mrs. Gilmore’s one remaining grandchild lingering in the door, frowning at her. What was up with him?
“Should we give him a cookie?” Mrs. Gilmore asked. Without waiting for an answer, she shoved one into his hand.
Sue Ellen quickly counted up how many of the sweet treats were left and said, “Sure. He works hard.”
“Here, Travis, sit down and have a treat.”
Travis hesitated. “Well, I can’t stay, Grandma. I just --“
Mrs. Gilmore fussed at him. “You haven’t visited for a while. Just stay for a moment—just long enough for one cookie.”
Travis gave up and sat in the chair. Once her second guest was seated, Mrs. Gilmore also sat and crossed her arms. “So, if the cookies didn’t bring you, what did?”
Travis tipped his head toward Sue Ellen. “She did.”
Sue Ellen gave Travis a double-take without giving away the fact she found him super-hot. Why in the world would he come here for her?
“You came here for Sue Ellen?” Mrs. Gilmore asked, echoing Sue Ellen’s thoughts.
“Yep. I was sent to fetch her. Seems she was supposed to be back at Doc’s a while ago.”
“What are you talking about?” Sue Ellen fired back. “Doc doesn’t want me.”
“Dylan does. Said you were supposed to be there hours ago.”
Sue Ellen put her hand on her hip. “Are you kidding me?”
Mrs. Gilmore put her hands to her mouth. “Oh, Sue Ellen, you must have forgotten! And here I’ve been filling your ear with nonsense.”
The woman stood and packed up all the cookies. “Please tell poor Dylan that I am so sorry! And give him the rest of these cookies. That poor man. Everything he’s gone through!”
Sue Ellen watched the treats disappear into a paper bag that Mrs. Gilmore handed to her grandson.
Sue Ellen steamed. She’d never lay eyes on a single one of them again.
Bag in hand, Travis rose and waved Sue Ellen up.
She ignored him. What could he really do? Drag her out of here?
But Mrs. Gilmore watched her, and the last thing Sue Ellen wanted to do was jeopardize future treats. She jumped out of her seat and rushed to the woman, hugging her. “I wish I could stay longer!”
That was certainly true. The last thing she wanted to do was to see Dylan.
As Travis hurried Sue Ellen out of the house, she glanced over at Annette’s home. The woman still sat on the front porch but was no longer crying.
Sue Ellen gave the woman a greeting as they passed by. At least Annette was staying put and not causing any trouble.
The sweet aroma of the chocolate chip cookies wafted to her, and she side-eyed the bag Mrs. Gilmore had packed for Dylan. Another one of those would help her get through the day.
“So, Travis, how about we have a couple of cookies?”
“Grandma said these were for Dylan.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, and besides, she wouldn’t need to know.”
Travis shot her an uncertain glance. “We’ll see w
hat Dylan says.”
“He doesn’t need to know either.”
He stopped short, staring at her. “You’re a sneaky one, aren’t you?”
Sue Ellen gave him a bold stare. “For heaven’s sake, they’re only cookies. Get a grip.”
Travis took a few steps. “They are for Dylan. You want one, take it up with him.”
Sue Ellen stayed where she was, hands on hips.
He turned and looked at her. “Come on now.”
“I ain’t going.”
With a frown, Travis asked, “Because of the cookies?”
“Because I don’t want to, you nitwit.”
“Well, you have to.” Travis walked back to her.
“Why?”
“Cause it’s where Dylan wants you to be.”
“Well, I ain’t going!” Sue Ellen turned to stomp back the way they had come.
Before she got too far, Travis wrapped his hand around her upper arm. “You’re coming with me if I have to drag you all the way there.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Travis moved, forcing Sue Ellen to walk or fall on her face.
She resisted at first, then fell in line after giving Travis’ shin a hard kick.
He gritted his teeth and tightened his hand.
She wiggled as far away as she could get. “Travis, let me go! You’re hurting me!”
Travis snorted. “I doubt that.”
“I’ll kick you again!”
He looked her over. “I was wrong. Not so much sneaky as downright mean.”
“Why are you going to all this trouble for Dylan?”
“Because he asked me. I’d do whatever he needed me to do cause he’d do the same for me. Besides, Dylan is not someone a person wants to cross. I guess that’s a lesson you ain’t learned yet.”
Not another person with lessons. “Shut up!”
“You’re not as smart as you think you are.”
“At least I’m not as dumb as you.”
Travis laughed. “Well, we’ll see, won’t we? We are here.” He let go of her arm and gave her a little push toward the stairs.
Sue Ellen scowled at him and made a big show of rubbing her arm, though it didn’t hurt at all. She shot a glance at the woods. Could she make a run for it?