“I wasn’t raped. None of us were. We spent the last few hours watching children die and scrubbing dirty laundry.” She swept her thumb over his bottom lip. “Guess which duty I got.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is that the truth?”
“Yes.” Tina’s voice bounced off the metal interior. “Now kiss and make-up. Some of us would like to sleep.”
Embarrassment heated Audra’s cheeks and her attention dropped to the floor. My, look at all the mud.
Eddie crouched down.
Her gaze was now firmly on his crotch. Good Lord. She jerked her attention to his face.
“I’m gonna have to insist you take off your wet clothes.” He chuckled. “I can’t have our fearless leader getting hypothermia. Not after all the trouble we went to getting you back.”
She slouched in her jacket. Must they have this conversation in front of everyone? “I don’t have anything to change into.”
“I don’t mind.”
Her palms itched. “This is not funny.”
Eddie reached for the hem of his shirt. “Today’s your lucky day, Princess.”
A flame ignited low in her belly. Was he going to strip here? Now? Leaning to the right, she glanced around the bus. Was anyone watching?
Mrs. Rodriquez sat up higher in the driver’s seat, dividing her attention between the rearview mirror and the road. Tina and Becky were turned around in their seats, watching. So were the rest of the women.
Audra opened her mouth. Eddie should know he had an audience.
In one smooth motion, he stood up and pulled the black long sleeved shirt over his head. Instead of flat abs and a dusting of chest hair, she got a black spandex bike shirt.
Becky hooted.
Tina clapped. “Take it off. Take it all off.”
“I got dollar bills in my purse,” Mrs Rodriquez shouted.
Audra flattened herself against the seat and stuffed her hand in her mouth. Lord almighty! Laughter chugged up her throat and spilled past her lips. The sound was rusty, unused. Doggone it felt good.
Gyrating his hips, Eddie spun the shirt over his head then tossed it.
Her face caught it. She clawed it off as tears streamed down her cheeks. “You are such a tease.”
He waggled his eyebrows. The leer ended on a wince. “Say the word and it’ll be a promise.”
The word bounced on her tongue. She wanted to say it. She wanted… Instead, she shook the shirt at him. “Turn around so I can change.”
“Why? You looked.” He propped a hip against the seat.
“You had another shirt on underneath.” The conversation was ridiculous and stupid. It was just want she needed. “I don’t.”
“Nothing?” He licked his lips then focused on her breasts. “At all?”
She held the shirt in front of her. She had a bra on. Not that she’d tell him. Besides, it was as drenched as her shirt. “Turn around.”
Tsking, he did as she asked. “Now who’s the tease?”
Shrugging off her fleece jacket, she scooted between the seats, pinched the wet fabric in her fingers and peeled it over her head. Clammy trails marked her skin where it touched and she shivered. Funny how she hadn’t felt the cold moments ago.
The sodden material landed on the seat with a squish.
“Finished?” He glanced over his shoulder
“No!” She sunk down until her bottom touched the floor. Poking her head through the collar, she let the warm fabric cascade down her back while she pinched her bra clasp. The elastic snapped free. She shrugged off the bra while wiggling into the shirt. “Okay. I’m decent.”
“Pity.” Eddie faced her just as she rose to her feet.
She draped her wet clothes over the seat back. Eventually they’d dry.
He eyed her lacy bra before sitting next to her. “I always was partial to red.”
Her mouth dried. This wasn’t the talk she had planned but the words were there. Jumbled but there. Despite the Christmasy greenery and pristine snow, the apocalypse surrounded them.
Duty warred with desire. Time ticked by. The battle raged then stopped. The Silvestre world had ended—taking with it the concerns of station, appearance or heritage. The shackles fell away and she practically floated.
Eddie cocked an eyebrow and doubt dimmed his smile.
Audra took a deep breath and teetered on the precipice. One more step and she’d be falling. Hopefully, he’d catch her and she wouldn’t land with a splat. “Funny, I always took you for a flesh toned kind of guy.”
“You have a point.” Grabbing his jacket off the floor, he shook it open, draped it around her shoulders, then rested his back against the side of the bus.
She snuggled against his chest. Blessed warmth seeped into her bones and her eyes fluttered closed.
“Rest now.” He held her tightly, his fingers resting on her hip. “I’ll wake you when we reach the soldiers.”
She nodded. Reaching the military convoy didn’t matter as much now. As long as they had each other, as long as they looked out for each other, cared for each other, they’d be okay.
She’d do whatever it took for them to be safe.
Even if those things required violence.
Chapter Forty-Three
Mavis smoothed the blanket over her arm. The wool-synthetic blend scratched her fingers. With her hip, she hit the bar on the door and shoved. The wind threw it against the school’s exterior wall with a bang. Cold found any opening in her clothing and abraded her skin. Stupid, stupid man.
She grabbed hold of the metal door and tugged. And tugged. The wind died down long enough for her to slam it closed. Shielding her eyes from the glare on the snow, she stared at the field across from Winslow High School. A shadow stood vigilant, staring down Interstate Forty toward Flagstaff.
Hunching into her borrowed parka, she stomped through the snow. I’m supposed to be an intelligent woman. I should have learned how stubborn men in uniform were when I married Jack. But no…. She stumbled over the curb then kicked at the snow.
Why did she have to fall for a soldier? They were just as ornery as Jack’s Marines.
She glared at David. The idiot raised his M-4 and aimed down the freeway. Maybe he was a little more irritating. Not that she hated his loyalty. No, it was the fact that the fool was out here and his men wouldn’t be arriving for at least another hour.
If he caught pneumonia and died, she’d kill him. She tromped through the drifts. And it wouldn’t be a pleasant death. She was a scientist. There were lots of ways she could kill the fat head.
Lowering the rifle, he turned to face her. Late afternoon sunlight glinted off his sunglasses. “What are you doing out here? You should be inside where it’s warm.”
She should be inside. She should… The thought sputtered. “I would be inside if my moronic boyfriend wasn’t out here freezing his ass off.”
He tugged on his glasses and looked at her over the top of the gold frames. “You got another boyfriend?”
Did he think that was funny? No one was funny at this temperature. Her lips would fall off if she laughed. She slapped his arm with the blanket. “I’m talking about you.”
“Ah.” He pushed up his glasses. “You said marvelous boyfriend. Wind must be messing with my hearing, I could have sworn you said something else.”
He must practice his stand-up act to pass the time. “They won’t be here for a while yet. Why don’t you come inside and wait?”
“Nope. I don’t want to miss them.”
Mavis sighed. The man wasn’t stubborn, he was intractable. “How could you miss them? They’re coming here.”
“Not Robertson, Sunnie and the others.” David raised the rifle and glanced down the scope. “That bastard is coming.”
“You think Trent Powers is coming here? Where all the pissed off military are?” She should have come out sooner. David’s brain must have frozen. He wasn’t making sense.
“Oh yeah. I promised God I’d sacrifice twenty-five virgin…” he lowe
red the gun, “Daiquiris to the altar of my beer gut if He delivered the bastard to me.”
Definitely out in the snow too long. It just wasn’t natural to live in places this cold. She snapped the blanket out flat and draped it around his shoulders. “I don’t think God works that way.”
“This time He will.” A muscle flexed in David’s jaw. “That bastard murdered Singleton. He’s mine.”
To murder. That would destroy everything they were trying to build. “David—”
He shrugged. The blanket puddled in the snow. “Don’t David me. I have a right to kill the bastard.”
“You don’t under—”
“—Stand?” His lips twitched with contempt. “Singleton knocked my ass to the ground in the sandbox, saving my life. Janovich kept me sane with his stupidity.” He poked her shoulder. “I owe them. I never should have been separated from them.”
For her.
She recoiled then caught herself. No way was he winning this argument.
“You wanna share the pain, huh? Spread it around in a misery loves company kind of way.” She jabbed his chest with her finger. “Say mean, hurtful things to me.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did.” She poked him again. “And you probably meant them, too.”
“What are you talking about?”
A growl rolled up her throat. He was wearing that look—the kind guys wore when the pretended not to know what they did wrong when really they knew exactly the right tone, inflection and word to provoke. She hated that look. “Listen to me, David J Dawson.”
“Mavis—” He released the M-4 and raised his hands. The carbine fell against his hip.
“Nuh-uh. You listen with your mouth closed.”
He folded his arms across his chest.
What a gigantic pain in her heart. If she was any less stubborn, she’d let him win and walk away. Sucks to be him, that she wasn’t the pushover type. “If Trent Powers does come up that road, he will be arrested and tried for murder.”
“Singleton’s?”
“No. His wife and neighbor.”
David picked up his rifle and checked the interstate. “And no one gives a shit that some poor slob in a uniform dies, is that it?”
Mavis stuck her hands in her pockets. It wasn’t a perfect world. Instead of making it so, the Redaction, anthrax attack and impending meltdown had made it unbelievably fragile.
And David threatened to pop the thin skin holding it all together.
But she could give him one thing. Maybe it would be enough. “You can have the live round on the firing squad.”
Instead of answering, he adjusted his scope.
Her stomach cramped and she glanced at the road. Nothing. She saw nothing. “David?”
His finger shifted on the trigger. “I’ll be the bastard’s executioner alright.”
She shoved the barrel up in the air just as he fired.
He hauled the rifle over his shoulder, aiming the butt for her face. “Dammit woman.”
The Marines on the school’s rooftops scrambled to their feet.
She waved them down. “We can’t take him out this way.”
“Give me one good reason why not.”
“Everything we do now, we will pay for later. Everything any man or woman in uniform did in the past, we will be held accountable for.” Didn’t he see? Didn’t he understand?
“That’s nuts. We’re heroes to these people.”
“You’re a hero to the cold, tired and hungry. But what happens when they’re cold, tired and hungry in three months? Six? They’ll see those cookies you saved from your MRE as extra food. The rumors will start. The memories will surface and be twisted.”
He stomped away from her.
She ran after him. Hardheaded baboon. Like she didn’t have anything better than to chase him all afternoon. “That need for justice pumping through your veins is every bit a part of the human psyche as paranoia and envy.”
He paused and took aim.
Taking a deep breath, she planted herself in front of his gun.
Swearing, he looked up. “Get out of the way.”
“If you absolutely have to kill Trent Powers then shoot me first. Because I’m tired of fighting losing battles, of having every thing I do countermanded by stupid politicians, angry soldiers and Murphy’s Law.”
“You don’t think I will?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. He was more than capable. And given his mindset, her odds were fifty-fifty at best. “I honestly don’t know. But I won’t stand by and watch what’s left of humanity rip itself apart over that bastard.”
A hot tear leaked from her eye. Stupid cold. Not only did it cause her nose to run, now her eyes were watering.
“Dammit, Mavis…”
“Please.” She plugged the barrel with her finger. “I’m begging you.”
David’s shoulders slumped and he glanced up at the clouds. “You swear he’ll be convicted.”
Oh, thank God. She’d gotten through to him. “I’ve stacked the jury and I have the judge in my pocket.”
“There’s a judge left alive?”
“Brother Bob is a Justice of the Peace. He’s agreed to preside at a trial.”
“I thought he was a preacher?”
“He had a Bible, married people and presided over their burials during the Redaction, people just assumed he was.” Was that how Trent had slipped on a new skin? He certainly kept his Bible close enough.
The Marines on the rooftop waved and pointed West.
He set the safety on his weapon and slung it over his back. “Then let’s go arrest the bastard. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll fall a couple billion times on his way to the janitor’s closet.”
She’d won. For now. But David wasn’t the only pissed off military man with a weapon and Trent Powers in his cross-hairs. “As long as no one can see his injuries…”
“With luck, the bastard won’t live long enough for a bruise to form.”
“Send up the flare. We wouldn’t want our guest of honor to get lost.”
#
Mavis stomped her feet to keep the blood flowing. The wind whisked the snow off the drifts piled along the curb and tossed it in the air. She batted it away. “If I wanted to live in a snow globe I’d have shrunk myself and climbed in a plastic ball.”
Standing on her right, David snorted. “I’m beginning to suspect you don’t like the cold, Doc.”
On her left, Lister brushed the snow from his uniform. “This isn’t cold. You’ll know cold once we get to Colorado. That wind chill will freeze the tits off a bear.”
And she would be snug in a nice warm cave, just like a hibernating bear. She crossed her arms over her chest. Given the general’s words, that might not be an association she wanted. “Everyone knows what to do, right?”
“Yes.” Lister turned to the two Military Police officers standing behind them. “We know our parts.”
“You better.” She tucked her nose into her collar. How cold did it have to be before it froze and fell off her face? “Our audience isn’t exactly going to be thrilled by our actions. They think Trent Powers is a reverend.”
Civilians and military alike lined the two lane street. Many crowded the park around the small parking lot. Huddled together for warmth, no doubt. Everyone had turned out for the reunion. Only a handful of officers knew Robertson and the others wouldn’t be joining them for another forty-five minutes.
She glanced up. Lead-colored clouds stretched across the horizon. Too bad it wasn’t real lead. They would be shielded from the radiation. She raised her mic. “Any change?”
“Background radiation is still normal, ma’am.” The tick of the Geiger counter competed with the boredom in the soldier’s voice.
“Thank you.” Mavis forced the words between her teeth. Maybe she was a little hyper-vigilant, but these people were all the eggs in her basket. One drift of fallout and humanity left the building without a ‘thank you very much.’
Brother Bob jostled her elbow and squeezed in the space between her and David. “Did I miss it?”
“No.” She turned to the Justice of the Peace. Holy cow!
He adjusted his red power tie and smoothed the creases in his black suit. Snow ruined the polish on his dress shoes. A gold set of scales was pinned to his lapel. He certainly took his job seriously.
She hoped it didn’t get in the way of justice. “Did you sign the warrant?”
Not that it mattered. Trent Powers would be arrested and tried. She just wanted the appearance of a civilian court, not a military drumhead.
He nodded and pulled a folded paper from his pocket. “I found a copy of a warrant from the JAG database.”
Mavis plucked the paper from his grasp and let the wind unfold it. Skimming over the legalese, she scanned the note for Trent’s name, the two charges of murder and the data. Everything seemed to be in order. But what did she know? Hopefully, Trent’s government-supplied lawyer wouldn’t make a fuss. “Thank you.”
Brother Bob smoothed his salt and pepper hair. “I’ve also reviewed the evidence.” He shoved his fists into his pockets. “I can’t find any irregularities in the collection. All of it should be presented to the jury.”
And it will, especially the pictures. The bodies displayed on a forty-eight inch LCD screen should sway the jury and the audience. She handed the warrant to Lister.
He kissed the paper then addressed his MPs. “Arrest the puke, cuffs and everything, then throw him in our makeshift jail. If he resists shoot off his knee cap.”
Brother Bob opened his mouth then closed it again. “Opposing counsel should be given the opportunity to interview the witnesses.”
Mavis shrugged. That was the way it worked on TV. “The Sergeant-Major can answer his questions. The witness Emmanuel Saldana and other investigator, PFC Robertson have been a little… delayed.”
Brother Bob arched an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”
“I don’t want to bias your opinion,” she lied.
A personnel carrier turned down the street. People rushed forward to get a better view before the Marines helped them back to the sidewalk.
When would they notice it was only one truck?
Redaction: The Meltdown Part II Page 38
