FIFTY-TWO
Two days later, they flew into San Antonio, which had the closest functioning airport to the cordon.
“Are we picking up the rental car here?” Loup asked, glancing at the signage.
“Nope.” Pilar looked smug. “And it’s not a car.”
“Huh?”
“I rented us a cargo van.” She flashed her credit card. “We’re gonna pick it up tomorrow morning and fill it with all kinds of excellent presents. I was thinking TVs and computers and stuff since everything there is like forty years old. We may not be millionaires yet, but you sold a lot of T-shirts, baby. Even five percent adds up.”
Loup smiled happily. “That’s an awesome idea!”
“It is, isn’t it?”
They spent the night at an elegant hotel overlooking the placid San Antonio river. Their room even had a balcony where they could sit and sip champagne, watching people stroll along the Riverwalk.
“How far of a drive is it?” Loup asked.
“About three hours.”
“It’s so weird, isn’t it?” She gestured at the people below. “To be so close and in a totally different world.”
“Yeah, it is.” Pilar shrugged. “Out of sight, out of mind, I guess. Who are you looking forward to seeing the most?”
“Mack,” Loup said promptly. “But don’t tell T.Y. I said that. You?”
“I can’t decide.” She made a face. “I know who I’m looking forward to seeing the least.”
“Rory Salamanca?”
“Yeah.” Pilar contemplated the bubbles in her champagne flute. “I kind of have to, though. I owe him that much.”
“Yes, you do.”
Pilar tossed a grape from the complimentary fruit basket at her. “You don’t have to be so goddamn fair-minded, Supergirl.”
Loup plucked the grape out of midair. “Can’t help it.”
“Do you know what you’re going to wear yet?”
She blinked. “I hadn’t thought about it. Why?”
“Oh, c’mon! On the one hand, we want to look good, right? I mean, this is our big homecoming.” Pilar ticked off the reason on one finger, then ticked another. “On the other, we don’t want to look too sophisticated and make them think we’ve gotten all snooty. Like you said, they’re our people, right?”
Loup tossed the grape back at her. “You’re such a girlie girl.”
“True.” Pilar caught the grape deftly. “And yet I am also muy macha, sí?”
“Sí,” Loup agreed.
“So can I pick out your clothes?”
“Sí.”
In the morning, Pilar fussed over their luggage, finally settling on a yellow sundress with matching stacked wedge-heeled espadrilles for her, and jeans and a white camisole with eyelet-lace trim for Loup.
Loup eyed Pilar’s sandals. “Those are new. Looks like I’m driving, huh?”
“I can drive in these! Um… maybe.” She examined her reflection in the full-length mirror. “You like them, don’t you?”
“Mm-hmm.” Loup brushed Pilar’s hair away and kissed the nape of her neck. “Very sexy. It’s okay, I’ll drive.”
She smiled. “Thanks, baby.”
After checking out of the hotel, they took a cab to the rental facility and picked up the cargo van. The clerk was friendly and cheerful.
“You gals moving?” he asked. “Doing all the work yourself, well, that’s mighty ambitious of you!”
“Not exactly,” Pilar said absently, filling out paperwork. “We’re visiting one of the Outposts and bringing them a bunch of stuff.”
“Oh, honey!” he said in a sympathetic tone. “Haven’t you heard? You can’t just go, you need a permit. There’s a waiting list.”
“We have permits,” Loup said.
The clerk glanced at her, then did a double take. “You’re the one from the TV! The GMO!”
“Yep.”
He beamed at her. “Well, God bless you, sweetheart, of course you’ve got a permit!” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level. “What do you say I throw in insurance for free?”
“Thanks! That’s really nice of you.”
“Not a problem at all.”
They got the same reception at a big electronics store on the outskirts of the city, where salesclerks fell all over themselves to load up the cargo van with televisions, stereos, computers, Dataphones, video game players, and anything else they could think of.
“Surge protectors,” advised a skinny young clerk who turned bright red every time Pilar spoke to him. “Lots and lots of surge protectors.”
“Perfect.”
The bill came to over forty thousand dollars. Loup whistled softly. “How many T-shirts?”
“Trust me, a lot.”
At last the van was full. They stopped at a convenience store to pick up sandwiches for the road and hit the highway.
“Hey, Pilar? How are we gonna decide who gets all this stuff?”
She shrugged. “We’ll let Father Ramon figure it out. He’ll know who really needs it, like the clinic and the school. Maybe they can hold a drawing for some of it, give everyone a ticket.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“Thanks.” Pilar smiled wryly. “I guess this isn’t exactly the most practical thing in the world. I mean, they won’t even be able to use the phones or get the computers online until the civilian wireless tower is installed, which could take months, and no one really needs video games, but… I dunno. Supposedly, they’re getting stuff they really need, like medical supplies, from the relief agencies. I just wanted to do something special.”
“They’re gonna love it,” Loup said sincerely. “Who wouldn’t?”
“Good point.”
The closer they got to the cordon, the more desolate and deserted the landscape appeared. There was almost no traffic, only the occasional military vehicle. After a solid two hours of driving, they saw the gray concrete wall that marked the northern boundary of the cordon.
“There it is,” Pilar said unnecessarily.
“Yeah.” Loup eyed it with distaste. “Think they’ll take it down someday?”
“I hope so.”
At the checkpoint, a fresh-faced young soldier examined their permits. “Holy shit!” He looked up, startled. “Excuse me, ma’am. It’s just…”
Loup smiled. “Yeah, I know.”
He grinned. “Hometown heroes, huh? Very cool.”
“Thanks. Are we okay to go?”
“Ahh… I have to inspect the contents of the van.” The checkpoint soldier went around to the rear of the van and opened the doors. He came back looking apologetic. “We’re gonna have to search the packages.”
“Seriously? All of them?”
“ ’Fraid so.” He pointed. “Pull over there. You can wait in the gatehouse,” he added. “It’s air-conditioned.”
“They’re just presents for everyone back home.” Pilar gave him a sweet, pleading look. “We bought everything this morning. I can show you the receipts!”
“Sorry, ma’am.” The soldier shook his head, smiling. “I can’t bend the rules, even for a pretty girl like you.”
She sighed. “It was worth a try.”
They waited in the gatehouse while a team of guards unloaded the entire van and began opening package after package, inspecting the contents. Their checkpoint soldier, who introduced himself as Dave, brought them cold Coca-Colas and kept them company.
“So what’s it like?” he asked Loup.
“What’s what like?”
“Being you?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never been anyone else.”
Dave planted his elbow on the counter and thrust out one hand. “Arm wrestle me?”
“Why?”
“I just want to see what it’s like!”
“Will you let us go if she does?” Pilar inquired.
He shook his head again. “Can’t do that, ma’am. But…” He rummaged under the counter and came up with a roll of packing
tape. “I can ask the boys to make sure your presents are boxed up good as new!”
“Good enough.” Loup put her elbow on the counter.
Dave hesitated. “You want a box to stand on or something? You don’t have a lot of leverage.”
“No.”
“Okay.” He clasped her hand and nodded at Pilar. “Will you give us the count, ma’am?”
“One, two, three, go. And quit calling me ‘ma’am.’ ”
“Just a courtesy, ma’am!” Dave grunted, straining with all his might, the veins at his temples popping.
Loup eyed him mildly. “Satisfied?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Okay, then.” She forced his arm gently and inexorably down to the counter. “There you go. That’s what it’s like.”
“Wow!” Dave shook out his hand, grinning. He pushed up one sleeve. “Will you sign my arm?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah!”
“Sure, fine.” She handed him the packing tape. “Can you ask them to work quick? We’re pretty excited about going home.”
An hour later, they were back on the road.
“Sorry, baby,” Pilar apologized. “I should have thought of that. I read the regulations, but I got carried away and forgot.”
“That’s okay.” Loup concentrated on the endless, barren road. “Anyway, they were nice about it.”
“Yeah.” Pilar was quiet a moment. “Does it still bother you? Everyone wanting a demonstration? Because it’s gonna keep happening more than ever now.”
“I know.” She slowed and pointed to a utilities truck parked beside a distant power line pylon. “Hey, look!”
“Yeah.” Pilar nodded. “They promised to bring all the Outposts back on the grid by the end of the year.”
“No more generators?”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “No more generators, no more paying the Salamancas’ blackmail prices for kerosene.”
Loup drove for a while. “I’m okay with it.”
“Electricity?”
“No!” She gave Pilar an affectionate look. “The demonstrations. I mean, speaking of prices, that’s a pretty small price to pay, don’t you think? For everything good that’s happened?”
“Yep.” Pilar leaned over to plant a resounding kiss on her cheek. “I do.”
“Me too.”
Less than an hour later, they pulled into Outpost No. 12.
Santa Olivia.
“It looks so small!” Pilar whispered as they drove past the reservoir and the golf course where no civilian had ever played in their lifetimes.
“Yeah.” Loup paused at an intersection of dusty streets. “Left here, right? Or is it the next block?”
“I don’t know. I never saw it from a car. Everything looks different somehow.” Pilar reached for her Dataphone. “Let me check the GPS… oh, that’s not gonna work, is it?”
“No.”
“I think it’s the next block.”
After two wrong turns, it all came back to them.
“Ohhh! There it is!”
“Yeah.” Loup swallowed at the sight of the Spanish mission–style church, the adobe walls and arched windows, the wrought-iron gates. “Wow.”
They parked the van in the street and walked up to the church.
There was a car in the driveway, an ancient maroon Mercedes that had belonged to Father Gabriel, who had been Santa Olivia’s last ordained priest and committed suicide before either of them was born. The hood was propped open and a lanky figure in jeans and a faded black T-shirt was bent over the engine.
“Hey, Mack,” Loup said softly.
“Hey, loup-garou,” came the absent reply. Mack froze, then straightened abruptly, banging his head on the raised hood. “Loup?”
Her eyes burned at the sight of his familiar face, the faint white scar creasing one cheek. “Hi.”
He rubbed his head. “Pilar?”
She smiled. “Hi, Mackie. Aren’t you gonna give us hugs?”
“Hell, yes!” Mack hugged them both, careful not to touch them with his grease-stained hands. “We saw the news. Everyone was hoping you’d come.”
“You saw the news? Here?”
“Yeah.” He grinned, gray eyes bright. “There was a film crew here a few weeks ago. Jaime got to talking with one of their tech guys. The guy hooked him up with a working satellite dish and a set of coordinates.”
“No shit,” Loup marveled.
“Yeah.” Mack nodded. “We set it up in the old legion hall so anyone can go watch anytime they want. Rosa Salamanca’s pissed as hell that she can’t find a way to make a profit off it.”
“I bet,” Pilar said. “Wait till you see what we brought.”
They dragged him over to the cargo van and threw open the doors. Mack stared in awe. “Jesus! What’d you do, rob a bank?”
“Nope,” Loup said. “Got sort of famous and sold a lot of T-shirts.”
“That thing about the band? No one could quite figure out what that was all about.”
“It’s kind of a weird story,” she agreed.
Mack pulled a rag out of his back pocket and wiped the grease from his hands. “Can’t wait to hear it. Come on inside—”
“Umm, hang on.” Pilar took a deep breath. “There’s something I have to do. And I kinda want to get it over with first. Otherwise I’m just gonna be dreading it.”
“Rory?” Mack guessed.
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s probably at the Gin Blossom.” He tucked the rag back in his pocket. “Why don’t you give me the keys to your van? I’ll pull it in the drive where it will be safer, then start spreading the good news.” He grinned again. “All the Santitos are gonna make money on this. The fucking Salamancas have been taking odds on whether or not you’d make it here for Santa Olivia’s Feast Day. We all bet you would.”
Loup blinked. “Santa Olivia’s Day?”
“Your birthday? The anniversary of the big fight?” Mack regarded her. “It’s Friday. You forgot?”
She laughed. “Yeah, I did.”
“Jesus, Loup!”
“I’ve had a lot going on, okay?”
“Yeah.” His voice softened. He touched her cheek. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too.”
Mack nodded at Pilar. “Go do your penance and hurry back. Everyone’s gonna be dying to see you.”
“Okay.”
FIFTY-THREE
Outside the rustic Gin Blossom where she’d worked as a bartender, Pilar hesitated, clutching the bottle of very expensive tequila she’d brought.
“You okay?” Loup asked.
“Feeling guilty, that’s all.”
“Are you sure you want me here for this?”
“Yeah.” She nodded emphatically. “I’m ashamed of the way I used Rory. I’m not ashamed of being with you. I want that clear.”
“Okay, then.” Loup opened the door and ushered her in. “Let’s get it over with.”
The place was mostly empty and it took only a few seconds for their presence to register. Behind the bar, Joe, the manager and bartender, let out a loud whoop. He vaulted over the counter and crossed the room to grab Pilar in an embrace, lifting her off her feet.
“Hi, Joey,” she said, a little breathless. “You remember Loup?”
“Fucking hell I do!” He grabbed her hand and shook it hard, grinning. “The goddamn vanishing boxing champion of Santa Olivia!”
A handful of regulars began to converge, then halted. From the back of the room, Rory Salamanca walked forward, a pool cue in his hand.
“So,” he said in a neutral tone.
The bar got very, very quiet.
“Hi, Rory,” Pilar said awkwardly. “I’m back in town visiting for a little while. I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else.” She held out the bottle of tequila. “Look, you know how bad I feel. I brought a peace offering. It’s your mom’s favorite, the kind you can’t even get in the States.”
He regarded the tequi
la. “How’d you swing it?”
“This Mexican diplomat, Mr. Sandoval, gave it to Senator Ballantine, and I begged him… oh, just take the fucking bottle, will you?”
Rory took the bottle.
“Thanks.” Pilar relaxed a little. “You, um… remember Loup?” She flushed when he gave her an incredulous look. “Okay, stupid question.”
“No shit.” He glanced at Loup. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Loup said, eyeing the pool cue in his hand.
He dropped it with a clatter. “I was worried sick when you disappeared, you know,” he said to Pilar. “I might have been pissed as hell, but I did care about you.”
She winced. “I’m sorry. I had to.”
“Yeah, I know.” Rory sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I was stupid not to have seen it all along.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Yeah, I was.” He smiled ruefully. “You had this… sparkle… that went out after we were together. And sometimes I acted like a jealous asshole because deep down, I knew that sparkle had never been for me. I just couldn’t bring myself to believe it was for Tom Garron’s kid sister. And how the fuck was I supposed to know she was some kind of secret superhero? So.” He shrugged and hoisted the bottle. “Welcome home.”
Pilar smiled with gratitude. “Thanks, Rory.”
“Ah, fuck it.” He raised his voice. “Drinks on the house!”
The bar resounded with cheers.
They only stayed for one drink, anxious to return to the church, but by the time they left the atmosphere was happy and convivial.
“Thanks again for being decent about this,” Pilar said to Rory, kissing his cheek. “I really am sorry about everything.”
“Yeah.” He gave her a wry look. “You might want to avoid my mother. She thinks you’re a filthy whoring abomination. And believe me, a bottle of tequila isn’t gonna change her mind.”
“You can’t win ’em all,” Loup said philosophically. “After the miraculous conversion of Sabine, Rosa Salamanca’s a lot to ask for.”
Pilar stifled a giggle.
It drew another reluctant smile from Rory. “Go on, get out of here. I know you’ve got people waiting for you.”
They headed for the door.
“Hey, Pilar!” he called after her. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do this. And, um… you look really good.” This time, his smile was genuine. “Sparkly.”
[Santa Olivia 02] - Saints Astray Page 37
