Sunny, Anika, and Neri return to the SUV quickly. I expect more complaining, especially from the child, but Anika seems afraid of several large dogs in the back of a nearby truck. She settles into the back seat and eats a sandwich we brought from the safe house. Soon, she’ll nap much of the afternoon drive.
Returning to the road, I share with Neri the information Cobain offered. She messages Papa. An hour later, he replies to say we should kill the people there on sight.
Neri doesn’t waste time asking why. If Papa knew specifics, he’d share them. He’s far less secretive than Cobain.
Papa’s meaning is clear, though. The people at the safe house are no safer than the ones hunting us.
NERI
This morning began with the feel of Cobain still on my flesh. He left me forever altered, but I thought I could never change him. The man wanted to die long before I arrived. Yet he chose to escape the safe house and join us on our mission. Despite the danger still hunting us, I often find a smile on my face during today’s long drive.
My brother catches sight of my expression and frowns disapprovingly. I know he worries over our next step. This morning’s attack surprised us. We assumed the cult might give up searching. Now Cobain’s killed dozens of their men. I can’t imagine they’ll take that loss any better than they did the four we murdered days ago or the handful at the roadside stand where we found Sunny and Anika.
My brother came to the United States to experience the country our parents left behind decades ago. I tagged along for the same reason that I do many things—to imitate my role model.
I mimic him now as our SUV follows Cobain’s down a long driveway toward a large brick home. There’s nothing inviting about this remote location. Surrounded by lush trees, the safe house is the opposite of Cobain’s. There, we had clear views in many directions, making it easy for the enemy to see us but also for us to spot them. Here, the dense woods both hide us and allow for an enemy’s stealthy arrival.
“If you feel at all threatened, talk of surfing, and we’ll kill them,” Kai tells me as he parks the Suburban next to Cobain’s Yukon. “These people are killers, but they won’t know we are.”
“They’ll figure out that he is,” I say as Cobain taps on our hood.
“Then let them focus their attention on him rather than us.”
Kai leaves the SUV and opens the back door for Sunny and Anika. The child dozed during the last few hours, but she’s aching for a real nap. Sunny looks mostly relieved to be out of the car.
“Don’t leave my side,” Kai tells her. “These are not our friends. We will leave at dawn.”
Cobain straps a rifle to his back and stomps over to us with the old dog following close behind. “Here’s the bullshit,” he says, flashing a dark frown. “I’m the mercenary, and you’re the weak, pathetic fuckers I’m saving. Get it?”
“Kai had the same plan,” I tell him.
Shooting me a dirty look, Cobain checks his pistol. “Stand around and looks clueless like you did when I saved you days ago.”
“Be sure to look big and scary like when you saved us rather than sweet and cuddly like when you cook,” I instruct while hiding my weapons under a sweater. “Of course, if they’re untrustworthy and plan to sell us females into sex slavery, they’ll kill you first. Godspeed, Cobain.”
His expression is hilarious enough for me to forget that we’re walking toward our possible doom. Kai reveals nothing. He’s wearing his dumb surfer face that the tourists love back home. Standing next to him, Sunny paints the picture of a perfect victim. I don’t know how to ugly her up, but it probably won’t matter. Anika rests in her mother’s arms. With her dark blond hair cut short and blue clothes, she could pass for a boy as long as no one looks close enough.
“We move as a group,” Cobain says in English, clearly wanting Sunny to follow along at this point.
Her dull gaze is perfect. They won’t be able to read her at all. Anika isn’t quite as vacant-looking. She forgets to be scared every time she checks her little backpack and finds her toys still inside.
We walk together toward the door. I drag a suitcase with us since we’ll look dumber that way, and it’s full of weapons just in case we get into a firefight.
A woman steps out of the front door. She’s tall, lean, and dressed in all denim except for her cowboy books. She looks like a rancher, but her weapon is a high-grade military-style rifle. Her blue-eyed gaze washes over us before focusing on Cobain.
“Who are you?” she asks him.
“I called.”
“Your name.”
“Dan Smith.” When she scowls at him, his glare doesn’t change. “We have money. Do you have beds?”
“We said we did.”
“Yet you’re blocking our entry. You can see my fucking confusion.”
“We don’t know you.”
“What kind of safe house needs to be friendly with its visitors? We’re not here for Thanksgiving dinner.”
The woman glances back inside the house, and a man appears. He’s wide-shouldered and fair-skinned. His height is closer to Kai’s than Cobain’s, but his chest is huge and likely steroid-induced. I notice how his gaze lingers on Sunny and then me. He barely acknowledges Kai.
“Let me see the cash,” he mutters, and Cobain immediately hands it over as if waiting for the request.
“We’ll be here for three days,” Cobain lies. “If we need to remain longer, we’ll pay more.”
“If you leave sooner, there are no refunds.”
“Well, no shit, asshole,” Cobain growls, seeming bigger now that he’s genuinely pissed. “Either let us inside or hand back my money.”
The man steps aside, and I follow Cobain inside the two-story home. We’re directed up a flight of stairs to a row of bedrooms.
“There’s food in the kitchen freezer,” the woman says, and I spot another man peering from a room downstairs.
Cobain asks, “How many people are in this house?”
“Eight, including your group.”
“Is that enough to protect us if we’re attacked by her ex-boyfriend?” he asks and gestures toward me.
“Depends on if he brings friends.”
“He might.”
Cobain doesn’t elaborate. He keeps them focused on an impending threat outside the house rather than what we’re doing. Once inside a bedroom, he uses a device to search for surveillance equipment. When he notices something near a light, he moves the lamp to the closet and shuts the door.
“Kai and I will bring food in from the SUVs and trigger the vehicles’ inner surveillance systems,” Cobain explains. “We will not eat with those people or drink what they offer. If you have to piss, use the buddy system. No one is ever alone. The kid plays only in the bedroom. We take turns sleeping. At dawn, we get the fuck out of here.”
Kai nods and whispers, “If there are issues, we deal with them without delay.”
Cobain and I understand his meaning. If these people so much as sneeze wrong, we’ll put them down before they can do the same to us.
After Kai and Cobain return from the SUV with a few bags of supplies, my brother guides his woman and child to the next room. I wish we could remain together. Unfortunately, Cobain scares Anika, and the dog won’t stop growling when the child is around. Now I’m alone with him in a room. Sharing a bed isn’t an option despite my fond memories from last night.
I search our food supplies for something to eat. Though my nerves tend to suppress my hunger, I need to stay fed and hydrated to ensure I remain focused. I choose half a sandwich from the cooler and offer a few bites to the dog.
Eventually, Cobain addresses the elephant in the room. “Don’t read too much into my presence here.”
Finding his gaze, I calmly reply, “I’m not arrogant enough to believe my nutty twat rekindled your will to live.”
Cobain startles me by slamming his mouth against mine as if my words destroyed his self-control. I throw my arms around his neck and pull him closer.
When my fingers caress his jaw, he steps back and leaves me to lick my battered lips.
“Stay focused,” he growls and walks to the window.
Studying him, I think to mention how I worried about him, or I’m relieved he came along. Instead, I only admit, “I’m glad you saved Buttercup.”
He glances at me over his shoulder and says, “No.”
“He has no name.”
“Not Buttercup.”
“Then what?”
“His name is Robin.”
“No, no, no,” I say, shaking my head and kneeling down to pet the dog. “That’s a name for a girl or bird.”
“It was Nilsson’s ex-wife’s name.”
“Why would he name his male dog after his ex-wife?”
Cobain shrugs. “Nilsson was tortured before arriving at the safe house. I think his brain got scrambled, and he thought the dog was a girl.”
“Buttercup is better than Robin.”
Cobain closes the curtains and stands away from the window as if worried someone might take a shot. He watches me for a full minute before asking, “What are you?”
“A human woman. If that weren’t obvious before we slept together, I would think you’d know the answer afterward.”
Cobain refuses to smile, but the corners of his mouth struggle to behave. “I mean, what are your parents’ races? I never saw Gator, and I assumed you were Peruvian or whatever,” he says, purposely getting my country wrong. “I don’t think you’re Hispanic, though.”
“Papa is Hawaiian, Mexican, and Irish. Mama is, well, white. I don’t know where her people originated generations ago. So, I’m mixed just like you.”
“And you want to keep living in Chile?”
“Why do you insist on doing that?” I mutter, glaring at him.
“You’re more attractive when pissed. If you agreed to walk around looking like a cranky bitch, I wouldn’t have to work you into an angry lather.”
His words put dirty thoughts in my head. “You’re a greedy lover, but I’m glad you were my first.”
“Greedy,” he snorts. “I gave you plenty.”
“Why can’t you hear criticism? Are you emotionally fragile?”
“I’ve never been weak in my entire life.”
“Not even when my knee made your testicles hum?”
Cobain takes a step closer, testing my resolve. “Not weak, but I did enjoy how red your cheeks became when you got angry. It was the first time I wanted you on all fours.”
“We’d known each other for a few minutes, so that seems about right,” I say and stroke his jaw before my fingers slide down his throat and rest on his chest. “Do you want to know when I first wanted you on all fours?”
“No.”
Laughing at his irritable response, I walk to the window. “I wish I could spar with you all night, but I don’t feel safe here.”
“Why did you even come to this country?” he asks while sliding his finger through the loop of my black jeans and tugging me away from the window.
“We hoped to understand what our parents left behind. It’s silly, no doubt. We were visiting tourist traps and back roads rather than lingering in the dirty underbelly that our parents knew. Mostly, Kai felt restless at home. Finding Sunny and Anika seems to have satisfied his longing.”
“He’s a fool, and you’re an idiot for not telling him so.”
“You worry about me,” I say, stroking his beard. “Your concerns are charming.”
Cobain rolls his eyes, but I ignore his attempts to get me agitated. I understand how he doesn’t want to feel responsible for my safety. The man couldn’t admit to caring for a dog he’d been alone with for a year. But Cobain values me, and I need to remain safe for him to be happy. That’s a lot of pressure for someone accustomed to feeling nearly nothing.
“I want to go home,” I say, and my voice betrays my fear. “I hate this country, and I want to see my parents. I miss the ocean.”
“We’ll leave tomorrow and keep driving to the next safe house and then the next,” he says, comforting me with his plan. “We’ll keep moving south until we’re near a major airport. Then we’ll leave this country.”
Though noticing how he includes himself in the equation, I don’t react. He waits for me to poke him. Our teasing is fun, but I want nothing more than the six of us to arrive in Nicaragua. Games might distract from that goal.
“How will we take Robin out of the country?”
“He has papers.”
Smiling, I poke his chest. “Are they old papers, or did you make them recently?”
“Yes, yes, fucking you made me more curious about survival,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “Don’t take it personally. My cock running the show isn’t romantic. It used to call the shot all the time before I left Los Angeles.”
I study him for probably too long. His words usually hold meaning. He wants me to believe I’m merely his latest conquest. I think he hopes to hurt my feelings and prevent me from expecting too much. I understand his fears. He’s a man ill-equipped for a woman, and I’m a woman ill-equipped for his drama.
I can’t expect him to protect me. There’s nothing about Cobain to indicate he will sacrifice himself to protect anyone. He took on the cult at the safe house to feed his self-destructive nature. I can’t divine more meaning into his behavior. My survival and that of my brother, Sunny, and Anika depend on me remaining sharp. Dreaming big for a man like Cobain is silly.
And silly will get us all killed.
SUNNY
This morning, I woke up hopeful. Kai slept in the bed pushed up next to the one Anika and I used. Waking with him close by and my daughter safe between us, I believed I would see his home in paradise soon. I no longer have that hope.
Kai, Neri, Cobain, and Anika will all be dead soon. Or worse, Neri and Anika will be sold off to bad people. I will be too, but I feel only numb when I imagine my death or suffering. My real fear comes from imagining them in pain. My baby girl’s known suffering, but there were rules at the homestead. They could hit and starve her, but she wasn’t old enough to be used sexually.
Our leader, Jedediah, warned us that the outside world embraced evil and hurt children like Anika. I hadn’t been sure if any of that was true. I hadn’t been hurt as a little girl. Not until my father brought me to the Children of the Black Sun’s homestead. Now he might be dead along with all those other men who attacked Cobain’s safe house. Or maybe he’s back at the homestead, enjoying life.
Now I’m not so certain what’s real. The air is electric with fear. Kai remains on edge. Even Cobain’s demeanor makes me believe we’ll be dead soon. Neri said something in the gas station bathroom that made me think if we’re attacked that I should do what I could to end Anika and myself.
But maybe I misunderstood. After this morning, I can’t be sure what’s happening.
I don’t need to know. My brain shuts out those questions. I can’t think beyond this very minute.
And right now, I’m happy. Though the room smells like chemicals, the bed is big enough for three people. Anika climbs all over it before asking to take her toys from her yellow backpack.
“Toys out, Mama?”
She says the three words with confidence. When Kai is nearby, she knows she can talk. No more silence. He wants her to speak. In fact, he asks her to name the toys as she pulls them from her bag.
There’s Doll, which is an ugly colorful plastic thing from a McDonald’s Happy Meal. Then there’s Tablet, which we played on all day. She likes the Candy Crush game because of all the noises it makes. Then there’s her favorite, Duck. She shows the yellow stuffed animal to Kai. Despite his worries, he smiles at her and pokes the duck’s tummy.
“Your toys are coming with us to our new home.”
Anika shares his smile, though she doesn’t really understand what he’s saying. Her gaze is full of trust and love. Kai still sometimes scares her because he’s a man, but she also craves his approval.
I feel the s
ame way. Even though I’m afraid, and my stomach feels weird after all day in the car, I pretend nothing’s wrong. Instead, I want to enjoy every moment we have left together.
Kai’s gaze warms when I smile at him. His desire feels like magic. Wanting to show him that I’m okay, I ask if he’ll play songs on his phone.
Anika and I have been cooped up in the back seat all day, and I know she’s restless. I decide to bounce around, so she will too. We’re supposed to be dancing, but I know we’re doing it wrong. Still, my daughter holds Doll in her hand and Duck against her chest while jumping from foot to foot. When she nearly falls, she looks to see if she’s in trouble. I smile and steady her. Realizing no one is angry, she laughs.
“You did this,” I whisper to Kai. “Our smiles are because of you.”
Despite his warm grin, he worries about the people who run this safe house. I worry about them too, but I have no power to fix anything. Kai feels the pressure of being right. His sister is next door, and he worries over her. I know he’s probably happy to have Cobain around to help, but we don’t know him well either. I suspect the large man only came along because he’s interested in Neri.
Men do reckless, even stupid things for a woman’s attention.
Kai could have left Anika and me at the roadside vegetable stand. He owed us nothing while he adores his sister and wants her safe. They should have walked away and gone on with their vacation. But Kai saw something in me worth saving. I’m too tired and afraid to worry if he’ll regret that decision. I only want to make him happy.
After dancing around like a couple of sinners, Anika and I climb on the bed where we eat a sandwich from the cooler. I find the flavors too strong, and Anika spits out one piece of meat. Kai laughs at her reaction. We can’t help giggling at his amusement. Kai’s light is so bright and beautiful. He’ll never know how amazing he seems to us.
Shellshock (Spent Shells, #2) Page 2
