Runner

by Evie Mitchell

  And thank God she did.

  "Vote, brothers." Chief looked around the room. "All those in favour of excommunicating Prez and his woman say aye."

  "Aye," the unanimous voices heralded.

  "Seems you'll find no support here Gus," Chief leaned in. "Someone remove this fucking piece of shit and his woman from my sight. And make sure you strip his kutte and burn it."

  "With pleasure," answered Hazard, our Enforcer. He slapped a hand on Gus' shoulder. "Come on old man, you got a long journey ahead of you."

  He frog-marched the protesting Gus from the room, Ice pulling a wailing Mama behind them. Two of the soldiers peeled off, following to lend support. The door shut and all eyes went to Chief.

  "We'll call for nominations today, put it to a vote in two days," he declared, running a hand over his face. "Need a volunteer to send word to the other chapters. Can't have Gus out running his mouth."

  "I got it," Whip said, pushing up from the table. "I'll go once the girl is good. And I'll let the chapters know that fuel is on its way."

  Chief nodded. "Good thinking. Anything else?"

  "Gus' women and Mouse," Texas asked. "Whatcha gonna do with them?"

  Chief looked to Ava. "You want to take on a few more in the hen house?"

  "Hen house?" She asked, quirking one eyebrow.

  "You can call it whatever you want as long as you keep your women in line." Chief slapped a closed fist to his chest. "We vowed to keep you safe. The man who led that vow broke it. We're setting it right."

  "He broke it and yet you're letting him live," Ava said mildly. "Seems like a pretty shitty way to set something right."

  "Don't think they'll be getting off lightly, girl. Gus and Mama will be stripped naked and blindfolded. Then they'll be driven hours from here to the top of a mountain and dumped. They'll remain blindfolded and naked, tied to a tree within hearing distance of each other but not within touch. They won't be given any clothing, food, or water. No guns or knives. They'll be left there for whoever has mercy on them – be it God or man."

  Ava considered the VP. "Still think you should put a bullet in him. My experience is rats always find a way to escape." She shrugged, "But that sounds like an acceptable second option."

  The air lightened as the men around us chuckled.

  "Are we good?" Blair asked, reaching a hand down to check Ellie's pulse again. "I'd like to take her to the infirmary and get some fluids into her. It won't help the drugs, but it'll help the hangover."

  "Any last thoughts?" Chief asked, looking from one brother to the next until he was sure they were all satisfied. "Dismissed."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ellie

  The pounding in my head woke me.

  "Christ," I groaned, eyes screwed shut. "I'm dying."

  "No, just a really horrible hangover." My sister's hand brushed hair from my sweaty forehead. "You can have some painkillers in a second. You need to eat something first or you'll just throw it back up."

  I forced my eyes open and found myself in a hospital-like room. Though, it felt more like one of the makeshift clinics that had been set-up in the before, when the virus had first begun its rapid spread.

  "Where am I?"

  "This is their infirmary." Blair snorted, fluffing the pillow behind me. "Let's just say I have my work cut out for me."

  Butcher entered the room, a plate in one hand, a cup of something steaming in the other.

  "Here," he placed it on the bedside table. "Toast first, have a little tea then we'll get the painkillers into you."

  I accepted the offered toast, nibbling on a corner as my stomach rolled in protest.

  Quiet you.

  Butcher was… not what I expected. Average height but with above-average looks, he struck me as a good old boy, the kind you'd take home to momma. Definitely not the type to join a motorcycle club.

  He wore a worn, plain black shirt and jeans, his dark hair in need of a cut but not overly unruly. He was clean shaven – an unusual occurrence in this land of the hairy.

  "Why do they call you Butcher?" I asked, sipping at the weak but sugary tea.

  "Had to cut off a man's leg once at a roadside accident. The name stuck."

  I swallowed, "sorry I asked."

  He grinned, revealing a set of white, perfectly straight teeth.

  "You definitely don't look like a gang member."

  "We're not a gang," he corrected, moving to the bedside table, and pulling out some painkillers from one of the drawers. "We're a club. It's like family."

  "You don't look like a club member, then." I corrected. I held out my hand, accepting the painkillers Butcher popped out into my hand. He passed me a glass of water and I swallowed, grimacing at the taste.

  "It's the lack of hair, right?" He rubbed a hand across his face. "Hair in wounds isn't advisable so I keep it tight." He winked, "besides, who would cover up sheer perfection?"

  Blair snorted from across the room where she was sorting vials. "High opinion of yourself."

  "Baby, you think this face is pretty you should see my d—"

  "You're awake."

  I shivered, watching Runner as he stalked across the room to my side. He looked exhausted, dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes, his mouth pressed into a thin line, hair standing on end.

  "You need sleep."

  He ignored my statement, coming to cup my face in his big hands. "You good?"

  I shrugged, "head feels like it's about to explode but I'll live."

  "The painkillers will kick in shortly. She needs to sleep. We'll continue the fluids for another cycle but by that stage she'll be good to go home." Butcher commented, checking the IV line.

  "And by home, he means to the hen house." My sister replied, crossing her arms over her ample chest, and glaring at Runner. "Not with you."

  Runner ignored Blair, his gaze like a caress as he examined me. "You wanna come home with me?"

  I hesitated.

  No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know. Yes.

  "Not today," I said, looking away. "I need time."

  His lips pressed together into a displeased line. "How much time?"

  "I don't know." I shrugged. "Enough to feel safe again."

  "And you don't with me?"

  "Not today."

  He pulled back, running a hand through his hair. "Right." He turned on his heel, heading for the door. "I'll get your things moved."

  And with that he left. The pounding in my head took second place to the ache in my chest.

  "Good girl," Blair said, squeezing my shoulder. "You can't trust him."

  Can't I? My heart asked.

  I sighed, closing my eyes, exhaustion overriding my sense, turning my limbs to heavy weights. "Gonna sleep now."

  "You do that, babe." My sister whispered, stroking a cool hand over my brow. "I'll be right here, keeping you safe."

  Safe.

  In this strange after time what was safe anymore? The only time I'd felt safe in months had been in Runner's bed as he forced me to cede all control, all worries, all concerns to him. He'd lifted the burden of being strong and just let me be.

  And in one afternoon that had shattered.

  Sleep first. We can work this out later.

  I gave in, letting the darkness enclose, finding an elusive slice of peace in the unconscious.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Runner

  "You're wallowing."

  I ignored Hazard's statement, instead asking, "it's done?"

  He slid onto the bar stool beside me, leaning on the bar and jerking his head at a prospect. "Give us a beer, would you?"

  The kid slid a perfectly poured glass in-front of Hazard. He took a long drink, setting it down on the wooden bar counter.

  When our founders had bought this place the first thing, they'd done was transform the main hall into a proper bar, complete with fridges, keg taps, and enough hard stuff to last the apocalypse. A few years back, some entrepreneurial brother had set up a homebrew station in one
of the sheds, creating liquors, whiskeys, and ciders that – if not great – were at least passable for alcohol. Thank God for them. I toasted silently, nursing my whiskey.

  The hall itself was filled with lounges, pool tables, and a few table areas. A few years ago, someone had gotten it into their mind to bump the back of the hall out. The brothers had all pitched in, installing giant bi-fold doors that opened onto a massive deck with an outdoor grilling/smoking set-up, that led down to a cleared grass area complete with big-ass fire pit.

  In the before we'd spent weekends partying out there, cooking and carousing. Tonight, the doors were closed, the mood inside sombre.

  Tomorrow we'd vote on who took over our club. I'd assumed Chief but the man wasn't interested, satisfied with his VP position, and the younger brothers were murmuring of needing new blood in this time of uncertainty.

  Either way, it's a change.

  "It's done," Hazard finally said, drawing my attention back. "Dumped him and the missus, got them situated and drove back. Makes you feel better, we made them walk up a fucking mountain in the fucking dark with no shoes so they'd no idea where the road is."

  "Should’ve listened to Ava, put a bullet in him," I muttered, signalling the prospect acting as the bartender for tonight for a refill.

  "You mean Legs?" Hazard tilted his head down the far side of the bar where Ava sat nursing a beer. She'd obviously been working out earlier, her legs on display thanks to a pair of tiny jogging shorts.

  "Mm."

  Hazard ran a hand across his face. "She like men?"

  "How the fuck would I know?"

  "Your girl didn't mention it?"

  Resentment sat in my stomach, poisoning my mood. "I had her for one fucking night. You think we spent that time having pillow chats?"

  Hazard chuckled. "See? You're wallowing." He slapped a hand on my back. "Man up, dude. You want your woman? Go fucking win her." He pushed away from the bar. "Now, I'm gonna go try my luck with Legs. See you at the vote tomorrow." He turned then paused. "And maybe while you're over at the hen house you could see to inviting them women to our cookout? Gonna be a big night, don't want our newest members to miss out."

  I grunted, lifting my glass, and letting the whiskey burn its way back down my throat.

  Go fucking win her.

  Maybe it was Hazard's encouragement or the whiskey but an idea took root. A fucking crazy one, but an idea that somehow, in this moment, seemed fucking brilliant.

  Go win her.

  I left the bar, passing Ghost who was once again seated in the shadows, his eyes on Ava and Hazard.

  He glanced at me, giving me a chin lift, before looking back at the couple, his face carved from stone.

  Poor bastard.

  Hunching my shoulders against the cool night air, I headed for the mess hall. A single light was on in the kitchen, the sound of soft chatter filtering into the dining room.

  "Yo," I called, not wanting to startle anyone.

  A head poked out over the bain-maries.

  "Runner, right?" The girl with long black hair asked.

  "Yeah, can I come in?"

  "Free country," she said, ducking back into the kitchen.

  I walked through the doors, finding a production line in progress.

  "Shit, what's this?"

  "Croissants, pain au chocolat, and custard Danishes." The woman waved her hand at the thousands of pastries. "You guys had all the fixings. I couldn't help myself."

  My mouth watered just looking at the unbaked goods. "You're a baker?"

  "Chef." She held out a hand, then dropped it, dusting it off against her apron before holding it out again. "Sorry, I'm Yana."

  I shook her hand then glanced around. "Just you in here? I thought I heard voices."

  "Oh," she blushed. "I talk to the pastry. It makes them tastier."

  I'd heard of people talking to plants and animals before, but never food.

  "Whatever works for you," I said with a shrug. "I actually wanted to steal some cocoa."

  "For?"

  I swallowed. "Gotta make something."

  "Hot cocoa or baking?"

  "Baking. Brownies."

  Yana's face split into a massive grin. "For you or someone else?"

  I shoved my hands into my jean pockets, "what's with the interrogation? You got cocoa or not?"

  "Right, so they're for Ellie." She turned, moving to a door at the rear of the kitchen. "I have a mass of cocoa. I'll give credit to you guys; you know how to prep like mofo's. This place is a goddamned dream."

  She disappeared and I heard movement, some scraping and then a muttered curse. A moment later she reappeared, holding a small cannister out to me.

  "If you want, I have fresh eggs, milk and I just made some butter. I also have freeze-dried raspberries which would go perfectly with those brownies."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Where'd you get milk from? And the berries?"

  "We brought cows with us, duh." She rolled her eyes, patting the bench beside her. "And we grew the berries and I preserved them. I'm a zombie-chef-er."

  "A… a what?"

  "You know, a woman ready for the apocalypse?" She sighed, "come on, lover boy. Let me teach you my ways."

  Under her tutelage I created a massive pan of thick, gooey chocolate brownies with delicious raspberries sprinkled across the top.

  "Perfect," Yana declared, dusting her hands. "And on that note, you should deliver these tonight while you still have time."

  I glanced at the clock, frowning. "Will she be awake?"

  "Honey, even if she isn't, she'll want to be for these." She leaned over swiping a small square from the top of the container, moaning as she bit into it.

  "It's been over a year since we had chocolate. A year, Runner. Do you know what that does to a woman?"

  I rolled my eyes, lifting the heavy container. "Wish me luck."

  "Buddy, you don't need luck. You got chocolate. But come back when you're done. I'll need that container back."

  "You need a hand with this?" I asked, gesturing at the half-baked pastries.

  "Nah," she waved me off. "This'll be one more batch then I'll be headed to bed. I've got a prospect and one of the girls running the breakfast shift tomorrow." She smiled. "Thanks though. If it helps, I think you're alright. Which is all we can really ask for in the after."

  I huffed out a laugh. "Thanks, catch you tomorrow."

  "Remember the container!"

  I left the warmth of the kitchen, making a mental note to go find some extra blankets for Ellie. We may be in the midst of Spring, but the nights here were still cool, and tonight felt particularly chilly.

  The Hen House sat off to the far side of the main building cluster. I clocked Jo before I got there. She was hip deep in the engine bay of a truck parked beside the barracks.

  "Need a hand?" I asked.

  She shot me a look over her shoulder then sniffed, looking back into the bay that was lit by a solitary torch.

  I sighed, "I'm sorry. We should have told you."

  Jo ignored me, loudly banging a wrench against the engine mounts.

  I'm not above bribery.

  "I brought brownies."

  The banging paused. "Chocolate?"

  "And raspberry," I confirmed, holding the container up and giving it a gentle shake. "Yana approved."

  She straightened, jumping off the front bumper and sliding hands over her overalls. "Well, hand it over then."

  I pulled one free, offering it to her on a napkin Yana had helpfully included. Jo took one bite then moaned as if I'd given her an orgasm.

  "Forgiven." She declared around a bite. "They're warm, gooey and chocolatey. You bring me another batch next week and you can have whatever the fuck you want."

  I grinned, "am I allowed in to see Ellie?"

  She waved a hand off toward the entrance. "Go with my blessing, good sir."

  I found the women clustered in the main sitting area on the bottom floor of the barracks. They had an array of tubes
and jars strewn about, and multi-coloured gunk slathered across their faces and limbs, and a few with it in their hair. In the middle, sat Ellie. Her eyes widening as she clocked me.

  "I brought you brownies," I said, holding up the container lamely.

  This was a fucking stupid idea.

  "Brownies?" Audrey asked from her seat on the floor. She too had stuff smeared across her face, but instead of jars and tubes, she was surrounded by electronic parts and tiny tools.

  "Uh, yeah." I held out the box, offering it to Ellie. "It's an apology. For being shitty."

  "They're good too," Jo sang, entering behind me and side stepping the mess to sit on the one empty spot on the couch. "Gooey and a little warm."

  The ravenous hoard descended but I lifted the treat, holding it out of reach of the grasping hands. "Uh-uh," I tutted. "These are Ellie's."

  The sea of women parted, and Ellie slowly stepped forward. Despite the pink shade of goo on her face, she was still the most beautiful woman in the room.

  "Thank you," she said, accepting the box. "This is very kind."

  "Very kind?" A woman I'd not yet met repeated, one hand propping on her hip. "Girl, the man baked. And he baked chocolate. Chocolate. Hell, I couldn't even get a man to do that for me in the before. But in the after? Where the hell does one even find cocoa?"

  There were general murmurings of agreement.

  "Doesn't change the fact he didn't warn us about the drugging," Blair pointed out.

  "True," another woman returned. "But it goes a little bit of the way to making us want to forgive him though, right?"

  The group seemed split.

  "I didn't see this," Audrey said, tilting her head to the side as she frowned at me.

  "See what?" I asked, shoving now empty hands into my pockets in an attempt to keep from reaching for Ellie.

  "You. Brownies. Baking." She shook her head. "Didn't predict this. Wasn't in the scenarios."

  I glanced at Ellie, lifting an eyebrow in question. She shrugged.

  "I'd argue your scenarios need more data," one girl commented.