Apokalypsis Book Two

by Kate Morris

  “You’d like to know,” Spencer remarked and took a bratwurst off the grill with tongs and set it on Freddie’s outstretched plate.

  “Yeah, no shit, I do. That’s why I asked. And what about your new girlfriend? She all straight-laced and prim and proper in the sack or is she one of those shy, little innocent ones who turns into a total freakshow in bed?”

  Tristan just shook his head. “Don’t know. Not my girlfriend.”

  “Uh-huh, sure,” Royce commented. “Like you’d tell us anyway.”

  “That part is true,” he inclined his head, making Royce laugh. He was one of those guys. All talk, easy to laugh, always looking to pull a prank.

  “So, you coming with or what?” Freddie prodded.

  “Where?”

  Royce groaned while Spencer laughed and explained. “To Renee’s Saturday. She invited us to come over and go four-wheeling there. She’s got horses and cows and stuff. Lives on a farm.”

  “Farmer’s daughter, eh?” Royce started again, to which Spencer rolled his eyes.

  “Maybe you should stay here,” Spencer joked at Royce.

  “What? And miss all the fun? I gotta get me a farmer’s daughter, too!”

  “Farmer’s daughter,” Tristan started as he sat at the metal picnic table, “doesn’t exactly mean dumb, blind, and no sense of smell.”

  Freddie and Spencer laughed at Royce’s expense, who took it all in stride and chuckled.

  A few weeks had passed since he’d heard that gossip about Avery and her family in town. He just kept his head down and stayed busy with work. Driving past her house three times during the last week was slowly becoming a part of his daily routes. It had to stop, but he couldn’t seem to make himself. He worried about her. Each time he’d gone for therapy sessions with her mother, she wasn’t home. He knew because he was becoming kind of an Avery stalker. Her car was always gone. He knew what she drove from the night of the bar fight. He even darted through the weeds to check and see if she’d installed a lock on her apartment main door after the issue of someone following her down the street. Tristan was disappointed, to say the least, that she had not.

  “So? You in?” Freddie prodded as Tristan took a big bite and shrugged. Then he shook his head. “What? Aw, c’mon, man. You gotta go with us. It’s gonna be fun. She said they were gonna have a bonfire and shit.”

  That sounded like fun for no one. Maybe children. Definitely not him.

  “Nah, think I’ll pass,” he told them, only to receive groans of disappointment. That wasn’t his scene. Hanging out with girls for the day, especially ones younger than him. A bonfire. No. They’d probably want to make s’mores or some shit, too. Forget it.

  “Saw your girl the other day,” Spencer said.

  “My girl,” he repeated flatly.

  Spencer smiled devilishly and said, “Yep. She was at Renee’s. They were just coming back from riding when I showed up.”

  “I assume you are referring to Avery Andersson?” he asked in an asinine tone.

  “Yeah, of course. I helped them get all the equipment off the horses. It was pretty cool.”

  “Fascinating,” Royce remarked like an ass. “What was she wearing? Get to the good stuff. That chick is totally hot.”

  “Riding pants and a sweater,” Spencer said. “She’s not like Renee. Renee’s a little more…I don’t know.”

  “Slutty?” Royce teased, trying to dig for info.

  Spencer just laughed, “Nah, she ain’t like that. Definitely not. Renee’s got a little wilder streak, but neither are hoes. Avery’s a good girl, ya’ know? She’s really conservative, runs some sort of kids’ hour at her church or something. They’re different. That’s for sure.”

  Of course, she runs a children’s program. And at her church, no less. She probably did mission work with the poor, too.

  “She was askin’ about you, bro’,” Spencer added.

  Tristan’s gaze jumped to his friend. “Me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Asking what?”

  He shrugged, “The usual. How you were, if you were doing okay, that kind of thing.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be doing okay?” he wondered. She was the one with all the problems. Attacked at a bar, stalked on her road, stalked by him, too.

  “Even asked if you’d be coming Saturday,” he said.

  He gritted his teeth and shook his head. There was no way in hell he was going now.

  He was used to traveling around the world, moving here or there, being stationed in different countries, villages, big cities. After a while, it all looked the same. The people, the places, the missions. They blended after so many years of being in the military doing special missions. All he needed to know was where to point his rifle.

  This was different. The location was like nowhere he’d ever been. The people weren’t even people anymore. The enemy wasn’t easily or clearly recognized anymore as the enemy. Lines were being crossed every day. The military was being used, but it didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to kill Americans. He joined up to keep Americans safe, not kill them.

  People didn’t even look like people. Nobody trusted anybody else. Even just regular people weren’t trustworthy anymore. Society was quickly collapsing, and all he could think was that it was better when he’d been in the middle of a violent, bloody firefight in the middle of the night in total chaos with nothing but the companionship of gunfire and the smell of battle.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Avery pulled her gentle mare to a halt in Renee’s indoor riding arena. They had left the wide sliding doors open on either end of the riding arena barn to allow for the fresh air outside to circulate. It was turning out to be a nice Indian summer, so she was living it up.

  Renee cantered over to her and called, “Hey, wanna’ go another round and then call it a day? The guys should be here soon.”

  “Sure,” she returned and touched her heels lightly to the sides of the tall mare, which set her into an immediate trot. She was a sweet girl, always was.

  Avery approached the first oxer and applied pressure to the mare’s sides again, taking the jump easily. She followed the pattern they were running and ended with only one rail knocked down. It was a good round. Renee used to do show jumping when she was young but took a hard fall when she was twelve and dropped out of it after that and only did it for pleasure now. Avery had taken lessons for most of her youth. Sometimes they just went on trail rides around Renee’s family farm. Other times, they rode in the indoor arena or one of the paddocks. Her family owned a lovely farm with beef cattle and horses for pleasure, mostly.

  Clapping at the one end of the barn drew her attention. It was Spencer. She trotted by and dipped her chin in accord. Renee joined and got the same praise, to which she laughed. Spencer was not alone. He’d brought three friends. The same ones from the bar that night, including Tristan Driscoll, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

  “Hey, I was gonna tell you, Avery,” Spencer said. “Thanks for the cookies. Those were awesome.”

  “Oh, yeah,” another one said. She thought his name might be Freddie. “Those were great.”

  “You’re welcome,” she acknowledged as Spencer opened the gate, and the men filed in.

  “You can come by the base anytime with cookies, ma’am,” the other man said. “Royce,” he introduced himself and extended his hand up to her, and she shook it. “I don’t think we were formally introduced that night. Need help?”

  “I think I can manage,” she said and stood slightly in her left stirrup and swung her right leg over the mare’s broad back. She felt hands on her waist as she came down. When her feet hit the ground, Avery looked up and over her shoulder. “Um, thanks.”

  “No problem, ma’am,” Royce said with a twinkle in his brown eyes and a soft squeeze of her slim waist before stepping back.

  “Just Avery,” she corrected.

  She pulled the reins over the mare’s neck and gathered them together. It tossed its dark head
in a universal signal that it was ready to be done with this. Renee also dismounted and pressed a kiss to Spencer’s cheek. Freddie was talking Renee’s ear off, asking lots of questions about the horses and the farm.

  “Want to ride?” she offered him.

  “Oh, gosh. No way, ma’am,” Freddie said to her friend. “I’d just fall off on my ass.”

  “I’ll walk you around. I won’t let you fall. I promise,” she told him.

  “Uh…” he stalled.

  “Oh, come on!” Renee pleaded. “It’s fun. You’ll like it. Just one lap, then we’ll get the horses put away and the four-wheelers out.”

  “Oh, alright,” he said and had a difficult time mounting. Renee ended up hauling over the mounting block for him. Then she led him away down the long wall of mirrors meant for perfecting one’s form.

  “W-would you like to ride, Royce?” she asked.

  “Nah, no thanks, ma’am,” he told her immediately with a grin that showed his dimples. He was good-looking and knew it. “Anyone else?”

  Spencer shook his head and laughed. “No way. Renee made me ride with her the other day. That was enough for me. My butt’s still sore.”

  Royce laughed. “What about you, Tristan? Care to show us your skills? I know your unit did some trekking through the mountains on horseback.”

  “No, thanks,” he said.

  “Aw, he’s scared,” Royce jeered. Avery didn’t like that. Then he made chicken sounds. It was terribly rude.

  Tristan shoved off the wall where he was holding it up with his muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Fine.”

  He approached the mare and stroked her head, her nose, held his hand below her muzzle and let her smell him. Then he came to the side and looked down at Avery.

  “W-would you like the mounting block?” she offered.

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “But I would like those reins. I don’t wanna’ do this without the steering wheel.”

  “Oh!” she said with a laugh and held them out to him. “Yes, that would help, wouldn’t it?”

  He didn’t smile or laugh or even offer the slightest grin. He was always so serious and stern looking. He simply took the reins, pulled them back over the mare’s head, and stuck one foot in the stirrup. He bounced once and swung a leg over. Her mare stepped forward two paces, and he reined her in. Then he nodded down at Avery to move back, that he had control.

  “Yeah, go cowboy!” Royce teased and added a ‘hee-haw’ for good measure, or just to be obnoxious. He stepped closer to Avery.

  Tristan didn’t look amused at his friend’s antics. He set the mare in motion and controlled her masterfully. He bumped her forward into a slow walk, increased to a posting trot about hallway around. Then he pressed her into a canter. For being such a large man, he sat a horse well. Sometimes larger riders seemed uncomfortable and awkward and looked even worse on a horse. He didn’t. Tristan appeared right at home and at ease on her. She listened well to him, too. She didn’t toss her head, buck, or even pull at the bit. He rode a few laps around, did some figure eights, and came to a stop near them again where Freddie and Renee had just ended.

  He swung to the ground and said, “She’s a nice mare.”

  Avery smiled, “Yes, she’s so sweet. Aren’t you, girl?”

  She rubbed her nose as Tristan petted her neck.

  “Need help removing her tack?” he asked without looking at her.

  “She got a tack? Like stepped on one or something?” Freddie asked with concern, making Renee laugh. “What?”

  “That’s the saddle and bridle and pad.”

  “Oh, duh,” he apologized. “If it was a rifle or a computer, I’d know it.”

  They left the barn with Royce and Freddie on their heels, and she was left with Tristan.

  “She goes in the other barn,” she explained, thumbed toward it, and led him after he swept his hand past him as if she should go first. He brought the mare behind them. “Where did you learn to ride?”

  “Here and there,” he answered evasively.

  “In the Army?” Avery pressed, getting a tight scowl.

  Tristan pulled the mare through the open doors to the other half of the stables and didn’t answer. Avery didn’t push for an answer. He obviously didn’t want to talk to her. She merely hooked the mare to a tie and started removing her tack. Tristan figured out the snaps on the English saddle and took it off. Then the pad. She removed the horse’s padded shin guards, which protected their precious legs in case they hit a rail going over a jump. Renee’s horses wore them whenever anyone rode, whether jumping or just pleasure riding. She was very protective of her horses for a good reason. They were her income while she worked her way through grad school. She lived in a small apartment in town above a restaurant but close enough to her parents’ place to continue giving riding lessons. She had quite a few students, too. Like Avery, she loved her parents and was close with them, but also wanted more freedom than Avery. Thus, the apartment.

  They finished with the mare and turned her out in a small paddock with a few other horses. Then Avery hung the bridle in the tack room where each horse had their own designated spots for their tack in particular. Tristan carried the saddle and handed it off to her.

  “Thanks for the help,” she said agreeably and got a curt nod. He wasn’t much of a talker. Abraham said he’d helped them the other night work on his car. He’d gone on and on about how ‘cool’ Tristan was and how he knew so much about stuff. As they were leaving the barn, Avery paused near the light switch. “You-you didn’t call or text.”

  “What?” he asked hesitantly as if he weren’t sure why he would have.

  “I just thought you might’ve found out more information about the flu,” she said. It had been bugging her that he hadn’t called. “Remember? You said if you did, you’d text. You didn’t text.”

  “Oh, sorry,” he apologized and shoved his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie. “Been busy.”

  She hated to admit it, but that hurt a little. “Oh, right. Of course.” Stammering about it like an imbecile didn’t help. Avery turned the lights off and left the barn with him to join their friends. Another three people had shown up in the meantime, two of their girlfriends- Joella and Sheba, and one of Renee’s cousins, Joshua, who was Avery’s age and like a brother to her. Renee didn’t have any siblings, but she had a large extended family.

  Avery ducked away to change in Renee’s old bedroom in the ranch-style house, removing her tall black riding boots and tan breeches with the suede knee patches. She pulled on a pair of cargo khakis and kept the same black turtleneck, topping it with a black zip-up sweater with tiny embroidered flowers around the cuffs. Then she spritzed on some body spray from her friend’s bathroom counter, praying it smelled better than horse. Looking in the mirror, Avery frowned at her plain appearance. All the other girls wore makeup and had neat hairstyles and more fashion sense and style. She was so plain and boring, uninteresting to the maximum. Spotting a tube of lipstick, she applied some.

  “Oh, geeze!” she said to her image in the mirror. It was so red! She blotted and blotted. “Worse!” Now her lips looked swollen and red like someone had punched her. “Great.”

  “Hey, girl,” Renee said from the other room. “Almost ready?”

  “Um, yeah, just…getting dressed and…” she groaned.

  “What’s wrong?” Renee asked, entering the bathroom with her. She looked so cool dressed in tight skinny jeans and a white gauze tunic that was cut in a low vee in the front to reveal a white cami with lace trim. Topping it was her tan, suede, fringe-sleeved jacket that came down to her knees, which she’d found at a vintage store, of course. She looked so original and a lot sexy. She had on a beret that matched the suede color of her coat with burgundy embroidered flowers. Avery would never look like that. She always managed to look like a model for the cover of a camping and hiking magazine.

  She moaned. “I’m so boring. Look at me! I literally just remembered that I bought t
hese pants online from an outdoors catalog company because they were water repellent! And I look like I spent all day in a barn.”

  “Let me help,” Renee said and jumped right to it. First, she removed the pins holding Avery’s smooth bun in place at the base of her neck and brushed out her long hair.

  “Yikes, now it’s too poufy,” she said, trying to smooth it down.

  “No, it’s good. Leave it down. You’ve got great hair,” her friend commented as she sprayed stuff in it, creating a gray fog in the small bathroom.

  Renee applied black eyeliner around the top and bottom of her eyes and smudged it with a Q-tip. Then she swept some mascara on.

  “Your eyes are your best feature. Always accentuate your best feature.”

  “I thought my brain was my best feature.”

  “Guys can’t see your brain, babe,” her friend joked, making Avery chuckle. “Did you try to use my red lipstick?” she asked, to which Avery nodded weakly. “Here, let’s try this one. Red like that isn’t going to go with your skin tone. You’re already tan.”

  “And freckled.”

  “Those are cute. Are you kidding?”

  She held still as Renee swiped on some pale peachy-pink lip gloss and dusted something lightly across her cheeks with a soft brush.

  “There, perfect.”

  She turned to look in the mirror and didn’t feel quite comfortable. “Do you think it’s too much?”

  “You’re asking a white girl with dreads if I think lip gloss and mascara is too much? Come on! We need to get out there. Everyone’ll be waiting.”

  She smiled and followed her friend, hoping she didn’t look stupid. The mascara and eyeliner did accentuate her eyes. What felt like globs of makeup being applied ended up looking subtler than she would’ve thought. She just wasn’t used to wearing any unless she had to go to a meeting with clients when she’d wear a soft mauve lipstick and mascara. They pulled on their shoes, bright blue cowgirl boots for Renee, and sensible gray suede hiking gym shoes for her. Yep, bought from the same camping catalog. Totally practical, once again waterproof, and zero percent sexy.