The Roadhouse Chronicles Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Cox, Matthew S.

  “Who’s that?” Abby shrank behind Kevin.

  Tris smiled. “These are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is Abby.”

  Yana snapped out of a fog at staring around at the countryside. She smiled. “Hello.”

  How the heck did he do this? Kevin fiddled with the injector, twisting a ring at the back end that caused it to chirp. “Aha!”

  “Push that little button there, and hold it against her arm for ten seconds,” said Marcus.

  Kevin grasped Abby’s bicep in his left hand, and pressed the injector down until it made a hiss. She went up on tiptoe and grimaced, emitting a long ‘eeeeee’ sound a little louder than a whisper.

  Bill, Zara, and a handful of militia came jogging up the road. Handshakes and hugs made the rounds.

  “Well, it must’ve gone somewhat okay if you’re back.” Bill clapped Kevin on the shoulder.

  “Yeah, it went okay.” Kevin picked Abby up and perched her on his hip.

  Zoe gave him a look.

  He picked her up and perched her on the other hip. “Ugh… Two of you is too much.” He feigned staggering under their weight, making them laugh.

  Tris looked up at Abby and took her hand. “The people who were responsible for Amarillo have answered for what they did. The former Council of Four―sorry three―were given the choice of exile or death, and they all opted for exile.”

  Zara gawked. “Seriously?”

  “Well, Kuroyama chose death.” Kevin shook his head.

  Abby sniffled and wiped her nose on her arm.

  “We’ll give you all a full rundown of what happened tomorrow. I’m exhausted and starving,” said Tris. “Oh, Bill… These are my parents.”

  When his arms reached critical mass, Kevin eased the girls back to their feet. “Oookay. Enough. Sixteen hours of driving.” He leaned forward a step to shake Bill’s hand. “Thanks so much for watching her. Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”

  “She’s got panic tacks and bad dreams, but I pa’tected her,” said Zoe.

  Blush crept over Abby’s face as she looked down.

  “Hmm,” said Kevin, rubbing his chin. “I don’t know anyone else with those.”

  Abby perked up with a grin and jumped into a hug. “You’re really back… I’m not dreaming?”

  “We’re here.” Kevin squeezed her. “Oh, hey Bill?”

  “Yo?” Bill turned away from a mumbled conversation with the militia and approached.

  “One, the drones are gone. Two, we found a store in the middle of Infected central. Got a ton of kid clothes.” He pointed at the Challenger. “After Abby and Zoe grab their share, what do you wanna do with the rest? Oh yeah, got a machinegun and a couple thousand rounds of ammo for the militia as well.”

  Bill laughed. “Well, keep an eye on them so they don’t take all of it… We’ll send the rest down to Clare and Mitch. They’ll get it distributed by size to whoever needs it the most. That’ll take some of the load off the people sewin’ up new stuff.”

  “Kevin! Tris!” said Bee. She ambled over and waved. “It is positive to register you on my optical sensors once more.”

  “You’re doing that on purpose.” He laughed and pulled Bee into a hug.

  Bee hugged him back. “You find it humorous when I talk like that. I like to make you smile.”

  Nikki smiled and waved at everyone.

  “Oh, yeah,” said Kevin, pulling Bill close. “Nikki over there is a Persephone. Probably get her on the militia. Might want to let some of the guys know not to play grabass with her.”

  “What’s a Persephone?” asked Bill.

  “Long story, but for now…” He nodded at Bee. “Advanced cousin.”

  “Oh.” Bill blinked. “One of those?”

  “Yep. And she’s on our side. Now…” Kevin picked Abby up again. “I need to make dinner. Hungry wife is angry wife.”

  Tris thumped him on the shoulder.

  “There still needs to be a proper wedding,” said Yana. “I insist.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” muttered Kevin. “Let me recover from one near death experience first.”

  He carried Abby inside their home, Tris right behind him. The parents followed, as did Zoe, who insisted on having dinner there that night as well as a sleepover. Bee brought up the rear after having retrieved Abby’s moccasins from the road.

  Abby stayed in the chair he put her down in for all of four seconds before she came up behind him and held on. Kevin gave her hands a quick pat where she clasped them around him, and got to work on food.

  “Everyone okay with dust hopper?” asked Kevin.

  Yana gagged.

  “What is a dust hopper?” asked Marcus.

  “I’m ready to eat the plate.” Tris rummaged the fridge. “I’ll help so we can eat faster.”

  “It’s good,” said Abby. “You’ll like it.”

  Kevin grinned to himself and fired up the stove. Abby held on the entire time he cooked.

  Tris killed Nathan again in her dreams. The seventh time she stabbed him in the back, his body morphed into a giant block of ‘beef spread,’ a staple Enclave lunch product often smeared onto pitas.

  The utter oddity of it woke her up.

  She squinted at a sliver of sunlight that leaked in from the window. Her stomach churned, demanding beef paste and pears. The idea of combining those two particular flavors made her grab her gut and gag.

  Kevin, at her side, snored with his mouth wide open.

  Wow… we both slept late. She peered at the hollow between them where Abby had spent the night. Not like either of them had the energy to do much anyway. She didn’t wake up in the middle of the night… that’s something.

  The room swirled around. Tris sat up fast, expecting to throw up, but only a cough came out. She held her head for a few seconds waiting for the dizzy to go away. Great. I get a cold. All the technology of the Enclave, and nanites still can’t kill colds. She sat on the edge of the bed clutching the mattress on either side of her legs, head bowed. Deep breaths, in and out. The beginnings of a headache faded. Okay, maybe this one won’t be so bad. Maybe that meat spoiled.

  Abby padded in, still wearing her dust hopper hide dress despite her windfall of six or seven pieces from the clothing haul. “Mom?”

  Tris looked up smiling. A tear ran down her cheek. “Yeah?”

  “Is it okay if I go to the lake to swim? Zoe and a couple of other kids are going.” She crept over, looking angelic, as if she really wanted to go and expected Tris to say no.

  The last three times kids had asked her to go play before they left, she’d hid in her room. “You want to go?”

  Abby nodded and raked her toes at the carpet. “Yeah. Can I?”

  Sounds of impatient kids outside reached Tris’ weary ears. “Will there be an adult there watching?”

  “Yes.” Abby clasped her hands in front. “Ann is gonna be there… and Cassie too.”

  A stabbing pain lanced her gut from an imaginary ten-inch long needle. She tensed, but kept it hidden. “All right. Stay careful, and come home for lunch.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Abby hugged her, headed to the door, and peered back. “Why don’t you come swimming too?”

  “Let me finish waking up first and I’ll see how I feel.”

  “Okay.” Abby grinned and darted off.

  The soft thump-thump-thump of her running down carpeted stairs faded. Children’s voices got loud for a second as the front door opened, and cut off when it closed.

  Tris sighed and rubbed her stomach. “Ow.”

  Maybe someday she’d tell Abby about killing Nathan. Her arm clenched with the memory of the knife twist. That was for Abby. It seemed inappropriate to tell an eleven-year-old about such a grisly scene, so she’d left it at saying she’d personally killed the man who sent the Virus to Amarillo.

  The need to pee swelled.

  Tris stared at her crotch. “Go to hell.”

  “What did I do?” asked Kevin, behind her.

  “Not you.” She tried to shift
her weight in a way that lessened the need to go.

  He groaned and crawled out of bed. “Shit, we overslept pretty hard.”

  “Yeah.”

  Kevin headed for the door, scratching his stomach. “Gonna slap something together for breakfast… Where’s Abby?”

  “Swimming. Ann and Cassie are watching them.”

  He nodded while yawning. “I’ll be downstairs.”

  How can he just get out of bed and not go straight to the bathroom? In another minute or three of sitting there staring at the wall, the discomfort advanced to pain.

  “Fine… fine.” She stood and swooned with vertigo. Nausea came back hard enough to nudge her stiff legs into a run.

  Seconds later, her ass perched on the bowl and her face hovered over a small wastebasket. Tris hugged the plastic, waiting for vomit, but only a little trail of saliva dangled off her bottom lip. She sat for a while listening to Kevin rattle around the kitchen, savoring the absence of pain in her bladder. Again, she lurched and dry heaved, but nothing came out.

  “What the hell is wrong with me?”

  A mild pins-and-needles effect washed over her abdomen and a faint beep came from nowhere.

  Great. What are the nanites fixing? I guess that dust hopper really did go to hell.

  The little blue clock that always floated in the lower left corner of her vision, something that she’d gotten so used to she didn’t even notice it there unless she looked for it, flashed a few times and went off. Crap. Are my implants going?

  Text scrolled along the space where the time had been in bright blue letters. Digital information fed into her optic nerve on platinum wires thinner than a human hair.

  Self-diagnostic running.

  “Oh, that’s new.” She swallowed a mouthful of spit and sat up straight, feeling a little better already.

  Diagnostic Pass. No problems detected.

  “So what is―”

  Status:

  She blinked.

  Pregnant.

  The wastebasket slipped out of her hands and hit the floor with a hollow, plastic thoomp.

  “What!”

  Dual zygotes detected. Double egg release. Progress: normal.

  Tris’ scream of shock turned to a jubilant cheer halfway before her lungs ran out of air.

  38

  Nowhere Else

  Eggs made for a welcome respite from dust hopper. The damnable enormous rabbit-like critters continued to raid the farm, so they piled up in the larders of everyone in Nederland. Meat was meat, but another week of rabbit twice a day and he’d drive to Hagerman just to eat the piss-coated scorpions off the ground behind Wayne’s.

  He poked a wooden spatula around the little frying pan, hoping the electric heating element stayed on. Bill would probably want them to take a ride to Amarillo on the sooner side of later to grab more panels, but maybe he could talk them into working out some kind of thing with whatever would replace the Enclave. Having them make new ones beat taking a long ride again. He didn’t want to leave Abby behind and he didn’t want to bring her back to that place. Yeah sure, the pair of them had been inoculated, but having her return to the birthplace of her nightmares would not end well. Bill had filled him in on her panic attacks, so he’d do everything possible to make sure she felt completely safe.

  Of course, being inoculated also made him the best person to go. Him, Tris, Zara, Nikki… the four of them could handle it.

  Fuck. I’m gonna need a good goddamned excuse to ask them to have someone else do that. No way am I gonna make Abby watch us shoot people she used to know. He grumbled to himself at the sudden wonder if witnessing Amarillo purged of Infected might help her cope instead of traumatizing her more. Nah. She doesn’t need to see that.

  White caught his eye, and he glanced left at Tris creeping into the kitchen. He started to smile, but froze stone-faced at the red around her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Tris walked up to him; her sky-blue T-shirt didn’t hide much of her shape, and stopped only an inch or two below her crotch. If not for her making a face like someone had shot her dog, he’d have made a move. “Umm?”

  “Abby?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Abby’s fine. It’s not about her.”

  “Did your parents say something bad?” He tended the eggs one-handed while grasping her arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m…” She shrank in on herself and whispered, “pregnant.”

  He dropped the spatula.

  Tris’ lip quivered.

  Holy shit. “That’s fucking awesome.” He grabbed her in a bear hug. “Ack.” He relaxed.

  “You’re not going to snap me in half now.” She laughed, sniffling a bit.

  He waved his hand around in a small circular motion. “What’s with the tears? This is what you’ve wanted, isn’t it?”

  “Two.” She flashed a cheesy smile laced with guilt as if she’d run off and spent all their money without telling him. “Fraternal twins…”

  He blinked. “They joined a fraternity already?”

  Her eyebrows formed a single, flat line across her head. “Really?”

  “What?”

  She leapt into him and bawled on his shoulder.

  He leaned to the right to pull the eggs up from the stove and flicked the switch to off. After putting the pan on a cold element, he hugged her. “I’m still not sure what about this warrants crying.”

  “I figured it out… it must’ve happened that night at the roadhouse, when we were on the way to the Enclave.” She shuddered. “I almost got myself killed while pregnant. No wonder I’ve been feeling like mothering the crap out of everyone. I guess they didn’t take my ovaries out… only some eggs.”

  “So…” He put on his rogue’s grin. “When do your boobs get bigger?”

  She punched him in the shoulder and cracked up laughing. “I’m serious… what if that failsafe didn’t exist… Or…”

  He kissed her to stop her from talking. Minutes later, he leaned back and smiled. “No what-ifs. Forget it. Calm down. It’s over. You saved the world…”

  She blushed and bowed her head against his chest.

  “At least from the Virus.” He kissed the top of her head. “We’re safe here.”

  “Yeah.”

  Gunfire popped and rippled in the distance.

  She snapped her head up and glared at the wall.

  Kevin listened to the tempo of the shots for ten seconds, and relaxed. “Militia practicing. The shots are too paced and regular to be combat… and no one’s shouting.”

  Tris moved to a chair by the table and sat. “That smells amazing.” She absentmindedly rubbed her stomach, watching him slide eggs and toast onto two plates. “We’re not perfectly safe here.”

  “Nowhere is perfectly safe.” He moved up behind her and reached around to set breakfast in front of her.

  She turned in the chair to face the table and attacked her food.

  “But…” He rested his hands on her shoulders with a gentle squeeze. “Right now, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  Tris looked back and up at him with wide, urgent eyes, a bit of egg on her lip. “You…”

  “Missed a bit.” He plucked the egg from her lip on his fingertip and held it up before poking it into her mouth.

  She sputtered and giggled.

  “You’re eating for three now. Don’t waste any.” He bent down to kiss her.

  Tris leaned back after a moment, and grinned. “You should eat yours before it gets cold.”

  He grabbed his plate from the counter and sat as close as he could get a chair to her.

  “I guess. Nederland’s pretty nice.” Tris leaned against him. “I can’t really think of anywhere else I’d rather be either.”

  Kevin draped an arm around her shoulders. She reached up and held his hand over her heart. “I didn’t mean Ned. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.”

  She blushed. “Even Dallas?”

  “Even Dal
las.” He leaned to his right and kissed her again.

  Tris nibbled on his lip.

  “Ow, hey.” He chuckled.

  “You taste like eggs.”

  He scraped more food onto his fork. “I better eat this before you take it all.”

  She half-closed her eyes. “Even on a bus in the middle of a street packed with Infected?”

  “Hey now. Let’s not get crazy.” He winked.

  Tris laughed and snuggled into him. “I’m pregnant…”

  “If you say so.” He smiled. “You think you’re ready for this?”

  “After the Enclave? I’m ready for anything.” She patted her stomach. “Well, maybe if one of them’s a boy, he’ll turn out like you.”

  “And?”

  “Then we’re both in trouble.”

  Kevin laughed. “I can’t argue that.”

  She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Kevin?”

  He peered down at her. “Tris?”

  “I love you.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she wore the biggest smile he’d ever seen on that snow-white face.

  Kevin brushed at her hair for a little while, taking in how beautiful she looked. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone in my life.”

  “More than your own roadhouse?”

  “Roadhouse?” He furrowed his brows with a rogue’s grin. “What the heck’s a roadhouse?”

  fin

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you for reading the Roadhouse Chronicles series!

  Additional thanks to:

  Mark Woodring, for his insightful editing and polishing―even if he did utterly despise the Cure pun.

  Will Stanton for making the suggestion that turned a single short story into a three-novel series.

  About the Author

  Originally from South Amboy NJ, Matthew has been creating science fiction and fantasy worlds for most of his reasoning life. Since 1996, he has developed the “Divergent Fates” world, in which Division Zero, Virtual Immortality, The Awakened Series, The Harmony Paradox, and the Daughter of Mars series take place. Along with being an editor at Curiosity Quills press, he has worked in IT and technical support.